authoritatively certain

A recent trip saw we-the-family enjoying a long car ride and the subsequent conversation that usually happens on longer than your average trip to Target car rides.

We'd been camping and discussing the wildlife we saw on our adventure.

Cardinals, snakes, orb weavers, armadillos, raccoon, and squirrels.

"Mama, are squirrels food?" asked Boo's big sister.

"Well," replied Mama, "some people consider them a food source".

"Mama?" she asked again.  "But, Mama, do *we* eat squirrels?"

"NO!" shouted the baby, without pause, from the backseat.

The rest of the family was shocked, stunned into silence and then laughter.

It was the loudest "no" we-the-family have ever heard.  In fact, it could possibly have been the loudest, clearest, statement of anything we've heard from our tiny Isla.

And she is, of course, correct.  *We* do not eat squirrels.
"Iwah nah eah woowuhs".

a sweet little sleeper

On November 29, 2011, Isla slept through the night.*

She was five hundred and five days old. 

She was 72 weeks old.

She was sixteen months and seventeen days old.

Sixteen months and seventeen days is a really, really, reeaaaally long time to go without solid sleep.

A really long time.

In case you missed the point, it was truly a really long time.

We-the-parents were so tired.

We could not remember our days or nights.

Sometimes we couldn't remember how we got home or what we did the day before.

A lot of times we couldn't remember much more than our names.

So when November 29th came along, and Isla slept all night long, we were so thankful.

So fearful.

So thankful.

So. Tired.

It took a bit for us to adjust.  And then the fear set in, that we would do something to mess it up.  To mess up our sleep.  To mess up her sleep. (Though truth be told, she seemed fine without it - amazingly fine, energetic, happy, healthy.) 

And so for the first week, we couldn't really rest.

And then time went on, and she continued to sleep.

And we started to sleep.

And life was so different in so many ways.

...

Then, only a few, short, months ago, we began having difficulties in the sleep department again.  Isla would not go to sleep.  She screamed and screamed and cried herself into fits.  She bruised herself on the crib as she thrashed around, angry that we'd put her to bed.  She refused to settle with any sleep method we tried.  And so night after night, she ended up in the arms of one parent or the other - most often her Dadoo's - and there she would stay, and sleep.

This is when our fear returned.  

You have to imagine our worry.

It was Five. Hundred. Five. Days.  

Five. Hundred. Five. Nights.

We felt we couldn't do it again.

We might not make it.

For sure, we-the-parents would never recover.

And what of our poor kids?

And so the previously mentioned transfer to a 'big girl bed' began.

And it has been a.ma.zing.

Isla has been AMAZING.

She is such a little sleeper!  She had a moment of unhappiness before we realized she was trying to ask for the light on, but once we worked through that, she was fine.  She is fine.  She sleeps.  Hard.  

Each night, we tuck her in, close her door only halfway and turn on the hall light.  We kiss her and hug her and give her the 'memes' (babies) she needs and whisper how we love her and leave her in bed.  And each night, she goes to sleep.  

Sure, there are moments when she doesn't.  There are nights, as there are with every young child, when she awakens, afraid of something, and needs to be comforted.  But she always settles back down, into her own bed, onto her own pillow, under her own blankets, into her own two-year-old dreams.

We are so thankful.

We are so proud of her.

What a sweet little sleeper.

...

*From the time she was small, Isla averaged between 3 and 5 hours a night of solid sleep.  Usually, she slept from half-past midnight until sometime around 5 in the morning, waking for food in the middle..  In the midst of these long months, there were a few nights where she slept six hours without needing any food, diaper, or comfort from her parents.  But even on the 'good' nights, Isla was never in bed before eleven p.m., and she needed assistance at least once a night.  While most parents we know have had the 7 p.m to 6 a.m. stretch of all night sleeping since their babies were quite small, we have never achieved this.  All night for us, until last year, was roughly four hours of uninterrupted sleep.  

**How old was she?
She was 43,632,000 seconds old.
She was 727,200 minutes old.
She was 12,120 hours old.
Yeah. It was a LONG time.

a carnivore

"Meahhh.  Baawwl."

That's the phonetic pronunciation of Bun Baby's new favorite food.  Her own very deliberate articulation of those words is much cuter than one could convey with words.  Some diligent parent ought to record it. (Seriously, I just had to backspace the words "video tape" before the "it".  O.L.D.  But I digress.)

She had her first taste of the ball-o-meat at a Sunday night church dinner - the kind complete with butter beans, homemade breads, meat in both loaf and ball forms and a variety of macaroni and cheese.  These particular meatballs were smothered in some kind of yummy brown gravy, and the bitty boo ate them like candy.

Ever since, she's enjoyed them at home, too, albeit without the yummy brown sauce.  And she eats them with gusto, shoving the entire ball into her mouth at once.

We-the-parents are so pleased that Isla has added something to her daily diet of pasta, salad dressing and shaky cheese, and continue to stock a large stash of the turkey-ball variety in the freezer.

In other meat-related updates, Isla also enjoys Thai pork chops with jalapeno, honey cured ham (thinly sliced, no bread), and Jimmy John's roast beef.

Don't be left out! Enjoy your own meatball here.

out of the crib

and into a bed. A Big Girl Bed. A bed that big girls sleep in.

But she is only two.  Two and a few weeks.  Still so little.

It had to happen.  She has been miserable sleeping for nearly all of her life, and we couldn't think of continuing the scream-fest that has been her bedtime much longer.  We also couldn't think of continuing the sleep-on-daddy-fest that has been ongoing for weeks, too.  The little couch in the playroom just isn't big enough for a grown man to sleep on, much less a grown man trying to hold onto a wiggly-even-in-her-sleep two year old.

So last night, we-the-parents raced around to the mattress store and the general store and picked out and picked up a twin-box-spring to go beneath the twin mattress we already owned, and a brand new set of Big Girl Bedding.  After dinner, we-the-family got her all set up.

And last night, sweet baby Bun, all of two years, one month and eighteen days, slept in her Big Girl Bed.  All night long.  Without waking once.  Even though we had to enter her room twice after we'd put her down (think hard to turn door knob, squeaky no matter what we do to them hinges, feet that are louder than we mean them to be, etc.)  - once to get the cat out and a second time to cover her up.

Not a peep did she make.  All night.  There was just one thunk, and that was it.

This morning, sometime after eight (!), the bitty Bun woke and cried.

As her mother tried to wake her big sister, who'd asked to be the first to greet the baby in the morning, there was a tiny knock at the little sister's door.

From inside the door.

And when her mother opened the door, there was the bitty Bun, standing in cold bare feet, with a cold little neck and cold little ears and cold little hands and carpet marks on her face from the spot on the floor where she'd spent most of the night.

She even walked me over and pointed to the exact place where she slumbered.

Guess we should've entered a third time to check on the thunk.

Sleep sweet Big Little Two Year Old Isla.

two.

Twenty-four months (and a few days as of this post) cute. And cuter by the moment.

Poosie-pants, as she is often known around here, is currently napping happily in her crib.  She has not quite recovered from her birthday celebrations which included a week's worth of beach days, time at the park, special one-on-one time with her mama, new dresses, shopping for a new ball, lunch at her favorite island haunt with her sweet friends, playtime with her Dadoo and big sister, a trip to the bookstore, "skebbie", her favorite movie ("woof-woof"), a boat ride with those same friends, candles, a crown, cake and a pile of presents.

In the words of her big sister, 'May we present,  ....... Isla!'

an animal lover

Though not necessarily animal-loved in return.

Isla has always been fascinated by animals.  And like most toddlers, she loves to look at picture books whose pages are filled with fuzzy, furry creatures.  She's a very good animal-caller and we-the-parents are so proud to say she can tell you what a fish, bear, lion, cat, dog, fox, bee, bird, mouse, rooster, chicken, baby-chick, duck, horse, elephant, turtle, giraffe, monkey, tiger, cow, sheep, pig, bunny, frog, zebra, squirrel and koala say.

She's loved to watch her pet cat Rèmy since she was born, but now, as she finds surety on her small feet, she loves to follow him, chase him, corral him and pet him - very gently and sweetly - anytime she is able to catch and terrorize persuade him to join her for some play.  Most of the time, Rèmy complies, and so the bitty-bun is able to get her fill of furry fun.

In addition to her love for Rèmy, Isla also find great happiness in seeking out and waving to 'woof-woofs'. She spots them from her stroller during her morning ride, from her car-seat as she rides along to our favorite store, from her seat at restaurants, from her perch on the playground swing, and each time she shouts with joy, "WOOF-WOOF!  WOOF-WOOF!".  Her chant is repeated over and over and over until someone near her acknowledges the presence of the pup.

During a recent visit to North Carolina, bun-baby had the opportunity to spend some quality time up close and personal with her grandparents' Westie.  Chloe the dog was a fascinating subject for Isla, and yet Chloe did not find Isla equally so.  Isla followed the dog around, giggling with glee, trying to get in a pet, laughing and chasing when Chloe tried to escape (on her own tiny legs) from the tiny-legged girl who kept sneaking up on her.  In the end, it was a bad situation for everyone, as Chloe, annoyed and bite-y was retired to the sun porch.  The dog, used to a pampered life of freedom, spent the remainder our visit quarantined.  On the other side of the glass, Isla lamented the loss of her fluffy pal, "oh-NO, woof-woof".

Now, daily, at mealtimes and bedtimes, Isla adds her own line to the family prayers ...
God bless Averie and Isla and all our friends and family . . .
And woof-woof.

a little bit of a talker

It's taken twenty months, but the bitty-bun-baby is beginning to speak.  It's cute. It's exciting. And it's challenging for all parties involved.

"Isla, say 'blackhawk'. Blaaaaaaaak-haaaawwwwwwwwk. Say it. Say it, Isla. Say blackhawk."
"Mama, she won't say it," says her big sister.

"Ilawah!  Ilawah! Ilawah!" says the baby.  "Ilaaaaawaaaaaaaahhhh!"

"UGH!" says Mama.
...

The thing is, it takes us* so long to understand what it is she's trying to say that by the time we realize she's saying, "Isla walk", we've already carried her or strolled her through the entire outing.  And by the time she figures out how to say what she needs to convey in a manner we can understand, she's worn out with frustration and the whole incident usually ends in tears.  Most often hers, sometimes her mother's.

Still, she's talking.  If you're interested, (and how could it be possible that you aren't), her vocabulary includes the following:
Mama, Dadoo, Aowee, Rem, thank you, you're welcome, yeah, no (thanks to her big sister), applesauce, pasta, meow, woof, quack, I'm tall, bubble-bubble, I'm slow, Isla, walk, God, all things, amen, vroom, augh-guh (aircraft) and the aforementioned blaugh-guh (blackhawk).

*By us, I of course meant we-the-parents.  Her big sister has no trouble understanding exactly what it is Isla wants and has no hesitation about translating:

"She wants to give me her ice cream, Mama. She wants to share it with me."
"Isla says she wants to go to an eating store."
"Mama, Isla thinks we should have movie night."

a do-it-yourself-er

And feeding herself full-time with varied success.  Though she can pick up and eat pasta all on her own with minimal mess, her favorite food to consume with no adult assistance is applesauce.

On a related note, applesauce is extremely difficult to remove from carpeting.  It also sets up to a super-glue-like consistency if left sitting on a hard surface overnight.

Look at that cute little face ...