Life is funny, isn’t it?
How things repeat themselves, generation after generation.
We find ourselves repeating the time-honored tasks that our own parents and grandparents performed when they were new parents.
And now, Lily, like generations of baby-mommies before her, has finally become obsessed with assessing the status of her children’s bodily functions.
Now we’ve mentioned before that Lily LOVES baby dolls. I don’t know if I have made that clear enough on this here blog, but she LOVES baby dolls.
Loves ‘em.
For real.
As an aside, she also loves REAL babies.
Well, mostly she just points at them and shouts, “baby! baby! baby!” but the love is there in her eyes – you can see the deep caring in her soul as you repeatedly shush her so that she doesn’t wake the sleeping baby that she’s pointing and hollering at while trying to peer into the supposedly safe cocoon of its baby carrier. You know, the baby whose mother is looking politely but ever-so-worriedly at us?
In any case, as many of you know, the life of a new mommy seems to revolve around baby’s eating of food or eliminating of that food, and Lily has adjusted to her role as little mommy to a whole gaggle of baby dolls quite handily.
As far as she can tell you, no matter what kind of toy she is playing with (as long as it has eyes, I think - I’m guessing this is somewhat of a criteria for her since we have yet to have this issue with blocks or balls…note that I said, “yet”), then odds are good that eventually the “baby” will, for lack of a better word, “poo-poo.”
Errrrr…aren’t you glad you stopped by today?
I’d guess you’re about as thrilled as I am after having changed Lily’s bath baby’s diaper about 20 times during the same bath.
One of her favorite phrases these days is, “poo-poo; chane-chane,” (poo-poo, change-change) which she declares repeatedly throughout the day while brandishing the offender in the direction of the nearest adult. She then expects you to pretend to change the baby’s/Elmo’s/puppy’s/monkey’s diaper. You get bonus points for using a real wipe, diaper, and changing pad. If you ignore her, she’ll drag the stuff out by herself, and make a valiant attempt to diaper her charge by putting a diaper on its face.
I’m worried there might be something in the water, because babies often require a dozen diaper changes one right after the other. It’s a wonder we haven’t been investigated by the health department.
So anyone want to come over and help?
If you sit still long enough, I promise that Lily may even try to check your diaper for you…
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Speaking of babies (and speaking of you, dear blog reader, who had their cursor poised to click “send” on a nasty e-mail berating me for depriving you of actual PICTURES of the diaper-changing tot), here are some pictures I took of Lily this afternoon while she wrestled/loved on my/her Annie doll (or as we affectionately call her, “Anh! Anh! Anh!” – said in a semi-irritating tone similar to the grating tone she used to use to say “Elmo” before she got the hang of that one).
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She sure is gentle!
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Her red companion is Muno, from Yo Gabba Gabba. She LOVES “mu mu.” She lost him yesterday at Costco, and even though we did get him back, she talked about it for a long time afterwards. “Mu mu…los…los (lost)…oh no!…fi-fi (find)…mu mu…fou-fou (found).”
Oh, happy day.
Seriously.
You don’t know how hard it is to find Yo Gabba Gabba merchandise.
See that glorious hair coming in? We’ll be needing hair bows any year now!
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Annie fights back, and appears to be winning at this point.
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Lily apparently vows to get vengeance, and impersonates a pirate. Scary.
Clearly, a break was needed.
Why is my child 8 feet tall?
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And so freaking cute?
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But OH-SO-innocent of whatever it is you were going to accuse her of. :-) Look at that sweet face – I love this one.
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She has SO much personality, this little peanut.
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This is her, “no. I will not smile” face. She was sort of annoyed at the camera at this point.
Annie is, as you have probably guessed (unless you are my husband), a giant Little Orphan Annie doll. She was made for me by my paternal grandmother back in 1983.
Let’s pretend I was born that year, okay?
I loved this doll, and am so pleased that she is in such good shape and that my own daughter can now enjoy her.
Thanks for making her, Granny, and thanks for hanging on to her all these years, Mom!
And thanks, Lily, for not ripping her limbs off.
Yet.
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