Lady Bug Likes to Look

What's better than rediscovering the joys of your Hallowe'en costume? Watching your alter ego hurdle across the tiny, not-so-silver screen. Lady bug, lady bug...jump, jump, jump!

It's getting very difficult to capture video of Morgen doing anything. As soon as the camera comes out, she runs to the videographer's shoulder, leans in, and says "See Morgen!! More Morgen!!" Of course, with Morgen behind the camera, there isn't much of interest in front of it...although I suppose the shots of abandoned toys strewn across the living room floor do make a sort of statement.

Morgen and the pants

Morgen is a funny, in-between size right now. She's too big for the twelve-month pants, and too small for most eighteen-month pants. So we run out of workable outfits pretty quickly, and we need to do laundry more often than we'd like. Enter the jumper. Somehow we always save these things for our last desperate attempts at dressing her before we cave and do the laundry.

When Morgen was small, before she could jump, or walk, we had a pink jumper that we loved to put her in. It was warm, and it was cute. Ok, it was still pink, but as I've said before, I've given up on avoiding pink things...mostly. The point is, it was a jumper, and it fit her for a very long time through many of her earlier awkward growing stages. Let's call it Pinky.

We now have two jumpers that we bought second hand at the same place that gave us Pinky. Morgen likes the red one, but she has worn it so often that it has developed a small tear that I need to mend...and if I can't be bothered to do laundry, I'm certainly not going to get right on that domestic chore...Morgen dislikes the other one, the blue flowery number pictured here. I can't imagine why. Oh, wait, maybe because it's a little odd-looking?? At any rate, she refused to put it on this morning until I told her it was a special outfit called a "jumper" that is made to help people jump higher. If there is one thing Morgen likes, it's jumping. Should I still be feeling guilty for sending her to school in something she didn't want to wear? Or for manipulating her into putting it on in the first place?

We have a friend who's first born child refused to keep clothes on for about the first three years of his life. Visits with them were always fun, and usually included this little person gradually disrobing to the point of complete nakedness (no diaper even) while doing more and more gymnastics about the living room. Morgen has lately wanted to get rid of extra layers, for example, she insisted on taking her dress off this weekend (after all, she had tights and a shirt underneath it), wants to stay naked after her bath (doesn't even like the towel, which she used to enjoy) and this morning's incident may be an indication of struggles to come. She's becoming more particular about what goes on her in the first place. I'm guessing that the number of "special" outfits I can come up with will not match her will to assert control over her clothes. So, should I give up now? Maybe I'll just do the laundry tonight. Or maybe I'll just sew up her red jumper. Decisions, decisions.

Names, Games, and Togas

"Daddy's name is....Gavin!" Morgen said last night, running between her father and me with a hospital card in her hands. Daddy had just explained that the card she was trying to give to him belonged to her mommy. He showed her the white lettering and said that it spelled Mommy's name, not his. He didn't tell her what his name is, but he did mention mine when he was spelling it out for her.

Leaving aside the fact that Morgen knows our names and still manages to call us Mama and Daddy most of the time, she is speaking in full sentences! Did you notice that part? Full sentences.

It's been a while since I've mentioned this, but it's still true...our daughter is soooo advanced.

Oh, and she likes to play dress up with her daddy. With mommy she just sticks to peek-a-boo....I guess he looks better in a toga?

Tent! Tent! Tent!!!

Morgen finished dinner early yesterday. She was too busy calling for her tent to eat anymore. She then proceeded to run around and/or hover anxiously as her father and I squabbled over who knew best how to put the thing together. Not that we were really squabbling. Everyone knows I've been camping more than Gavin...ok, maybe we squabbled a little bit. But most importantly, the thirty-minutes between the end of dinner and the beginning of bed and bath time were spent in the great indoor-outdoors last night. Morgen discovered the joys of static electricity, played peekaboo through her tent window, and tried to use the inside tent wall as a slide - good thing we're on the ground floor, and that Morgen's diaper has lots of padding. I don't think our neighbours would have appreciated all the thumping, and the kid's bum would otherwise have been very, very bruised. I think she'll be ready for the bouncy castles next time there is a street festival - but if we do take her camping in a real tent, we'll have a lot of explaining to do about how not to knock the thing over.

Blueberries and Pony Rides

Morgen has been busy the last few weeks. And I've been lazy. I feel much more tired and cranky at this point in the pregnancy than I did the first time around - and while that is no excuse for leaving our distant friends and relatives wondering if Morgen would ever climb down from the swing set, it has contributed to my lack of enthusiasm for the blog.

So here are two quick shots: one of Morgen looking happy with her dessert (semi-frozen blueberries), and one of her shouting "yippee!" while taking her first ever ride on a pony. His name is Spur. When the ride was over, Morgen said "Thank-you Spur," and "Bye-bye Spur!" and then she pointed to the next pony and said "That one!" We had to explain that, unlike the swings in the park, you don't get to ride the ponies one after another until you've tried them all...she took that pretty well, all things considered.