Yeah!

I'm enjoying my agreeable daughter for now - I know she is going to learn the "no" word all too soon...

Ratatouille Part I

It all started two weeks ago as I was doing my morning routine of puttering around the kitchen when I heard this conspicuous noise from under my sink. The overwhelming optimistic side of me decided that must be the garbage settling, not that I ever heard the garbage settling before. On I went, shuffling my slippers around the kitchen when I heard it again. It most certainly was NOT garbage settling, and I finally admitted that there was a creature under there. That was it - I made the executive decision not to open the doors to my lower cabinets for the rest of the day. After all, the creature just might come flying out of the cupboard at me with red beady eyes, take a bite out of my neck and paralyze me. One just can't take these chances with a baby in the house.

That evening Sam got home and did his manly duty of checking under the sink at the request of his ridiculously cowardly wife. No mouse or rat was present, but a hole chewed through the drywall under the sink left no doubt that there had been one. Eeps! My creative husband's solution was to find a piece of cardboard, soak it in the nastiest stuff possible in the garage, and pin it up over the rodent hole. "Eat through that, Sucker," was Sam's thought. I decided to take a different approach and went out the next day to buy some mouse traps and bait. I was quick to hand over these goodies to Sam as I still had vowed to not enter the rodent-cave and therefore assumed no responsibility. And so under the sink they went, still in the shopping bag, just waiting for the rodent to be curious enough to chew the packaging eager to gnaw to its death.

The following Monday I awoke at 5:15 am to the slamming of the door leading to the garage. It was slightly on the early side for Sam to be up, but whatever, and so I rolled over and tried to sleep. Slam. Slam. Errrrrch. Thump. Slam. This had gone on for about 10 minutes when my morning fuzzed brain registered that these noises were not Sam making a lunch. I, Jenni-zilla, wresteled my robe on and marched down the stairs to give my husband an eyefull of the consequences of not letting me get my beauty sleep. My jaw dropped as I rounded the corner to the kitchen. There was Sam, mop in hand and bucket by his side, standing in a pool of water that extended from the kitchen all the way to the family room.

"Your rat is back," Sam cursed bitterly.

He then showed me under the sink where yet another hole had been chewed through the drywall, and the size of this hole clearly indicated that our hungry critter was indeed a rat. Next Sam showed me where the rat had proceeded to chomp away at the hose leading to the dishwasher, thus the pool of water we were wading in. Ironically, the bait had been flooded by the water and the mouse traps would have been useless by their size.

We then started mopping up the mess and began to discover our laminate flooring was bubbling and water was squeezing up through the cracks as we walked. I was quickly discovering what I was going to be doing for the rest of the day. After we completed mopping up the water, Sam headed off to work leaving me with my imagination running wild.

Part of my brain envisioned Remy (the chef rat from Ratatouille) cooking in my kitchen at night, which in a way would explain why I constantly find more leftovers in my refrigerator than I expect. The other part of my brain imagined this friendly culinary rat morphing into a huge villainous rat during the daytime while Sam is at work. This evil rat has oily black fur, a long pointy snout, gleaming razon sharp teeth, and tummy bulging over his feet full with food from my trash can. Oh yes, the red beady eyes also complete this vision as well.

Much to my delight, my rat visions and anxiety about home repair were subsided by the fact that our friend Nathan was in town for the day. He helped pick out and install a new hose for the dishwasher. We also picked out rat traps and bait which got a lot more attention from Sam this time around. With traps set and bait positioned, Sam and I laid our heads to rest on our pillows that night.

The next morning we woke up to a bait dish that had been visited by hungry creatures, but the rat traps had not been touched. Was this the end of the rats? Only time would tell…

The Face

Nora has been expanding her range of talents. Most recently she has discovered how to blow spit bubbles, mastered her "Indian war cry", and has become obsessed with making "The Face". I think the best way to describe the face is a pug snort with a touch of adorable. Her favorite time to make the face seems to be during a meal, sometimes getting us all sidetracked and forgetting why we had her in the highchair in the first place. Here's a cereal smeared version of The Face from this morning.

Learning to Share

About two month ago Nora and I had gone over to a friend's house for a play date (a term used very loosely since Nora was hardly mobile at that point). We had Nora sprawled out on her blanket with her toy and she was having a grand time interacting with the adults. Here comes Riley in the room, a jolly little two year old who loves Nora (or "No-No" as he first called her), ready to play with the baby. As Riley approached, Nora cautiously swept her toy close to her chest for safe keeping. Apparently Nora considered sharing her toys with Riley as a no-no.

A few weeks later Grandpa Buddy had taken Nora on a walk through our garden. Grandpa refers to these as "species identification walks" where he lectures on the different fauna they see and Nora touches and plays with leaves, branches, and flowers. Upon return from their walk, Nora had clasped in her tiny hands a pretty little flower. Grandpa brought Nora over to me and was encouraging her to give her flower to me. Nora kept her a tight grip on that flower showing no intention of giving it up. My father helped her extend her arm toward me and I picked the flower out of Nora's hands thanking her kindly for the nice gift. Out came the lip and her eyes welled up with tears. I have the feeling she wasn't really bringing that flower in for mom.

I'm starting to get the idea that we need to work on sharing a bit. It's just so tough for a little girl!

Watch out world, here I come!

Now that Nora has mastered the art of crawling, she seems to have gotten this silly idea that the next step for her is to get up on those feet. She just looks over at me with a mischievous grin, her eyes telling me, "Look Mom, I'm going to be walking in no time!" Meanwhile, I'm thinking, "Oh super duper!" But hey, I am proud of her. Unfortunately all of her curiosity and bravery often leads to tumbles and tears.

Earlier this week she was sitting up like a big girl on our hardwood floor playing with her toys. I was walking past her, and she followed me with her head and before we both knew it - WHAM - she had fallen over backwards and hit her head. Oh the water works! I picked her up and then she spied some super cool newspaper sitting on the couch which brought the drama to an immediate halt.

Her other favorite trick right now is to crawl into some tight spot she can't get out of. Like while I was writing this, she crawled between the ottoman and the love seat and made an immediately turn to wedge herself between the couch and the love seat. There she was a howling and flailing until I came and plucked her from the tight corners. And now she's off again, diaper butt on the move, seeing what else there is to discover.

First Vegetables

Grandpa decided on Saturday night that Nora should try something to eat other than cereal. Carrots it is! Watch the video and decide for yourself if carrots were a hit.

Bring on the Lucky Charms!

Last night was a big step for Nora as we attempted her first solid food. At first she was much more interested in figuring out what dad was doing with the camera, so while it was easy to get the spoon in her mouth, it was going down her face more than her throat. It only took a few tasty bites for her to discover the "Mmmm" factor and soon she was eagerly grabbing for the spoon and bowl for more. What a good eater!

Victory smile!