Birthday Game

Fiona has a new favorite game which she first started playing in San Diego. We're not sure if she picked it up at day care or from a video Nonni and Pop have of Tigger getting a party in the Hundred Acre Woods, but Fiona loves to play "birthday."

She starts by shouting out "Birthday! Birthday!" Then everybody, including Fiona, has to put a "hat" on his or her head (i.e. the nearest stuffed animal, a napkin ring, etc.) and sing the happy birthday song (which Fiona has picked up) before blowing out the (imaginary) "candle" on the "cake" (some other nearby object, like a napkin).

As soon as we're done, Fiona wants to start right over, with everybody putting on hats and repeating the song.

I hope she isn't expecting a real birthday too soon -- she's got another 4½ months before she turns two.

I am he as you are he as you are me...

Fiona has figured out who all the regular visitors in her family are. Whenever she's with people she knows, she likes to go around the table pointing them out ("Nonny!" "Mommy!" "Pop!" "Daddy!"). The one name she won't give us, however, is her own. Granted it's three syllables long, but it's mostly vowels, she can make the "F" sound (see "frog", below), and she can say a few three syllable words ("elephant" primarily). But every time we ask, she starts pointing at other people ("Nonny!" "Mommy!" "Pop!" "Daddy!")

Over the weekend, we were looking at pictures on our china cabinet. Here's how the dialogue went:

Me: Who's that?
Fiona: Gramma!
Me: Who's next to Grandma?
Fiona: Gappa!
Me: (taking another photo) Who's that?
Fiona: Mommy!
Me: And that?
Fiona: Daddy!
Me: Who's the baby?
(silence)
Me: That's you! Fiona. Fiona.
(silence)
Me: Who's that?
Fiona: Gigi!
Me: And what about this one?
Fiona: Nonni! Pop!
Me: (going back to the Fiona photo) And who's this?
Fiona: (thinking, then pointing to herself with a big smile) You!

I know figuring out who is "you" and who is "me" is a tricky concept for young children, but I'd prefer to think we have a child with a budding sense of Buddhist philosophy. We are all one, right?

Pooh Toys are NOT for Sharing

Andrea tells me that this morning when our cleaning woman arrived with her daughter Elena (who's the same age as Fiona), Elena ran straight for one of Fiona's stuffed Tiggers. Fiona's never much liked the fact that Elena gets to play with her toys on cleaning days, but apparently Tigger was just too much. Fiona instantly started crying and yelling "Tigger! Tigger!"

A quick pickup of other Pooh toys apparently staved off the problem for now and Elena is currently playing with toys not inspired by A.A. Milne.

Yes, we do seem to have created a monster.

Boo Boos

No sooner had we returned from vacation than I managed to drop a glass in the bathroom and cut the top of my right foot on a bouncing shard of glass. One trip to the ER and three stitches later I've been left with a huge bandage around my foot and the inability to chase my daughter around the apartment the way I normally do.

Fortunately Fiona's a quick study. This morning she woke up and looked at Mommy and said "boo boo" while pointing to her right foot.

We're Back

We had a good couple of weeks in San Diego visiting Nonny & Pop--we even got away for a few days while the grandparents babysat. 48 straight hours without Fiona was something of a record, even if we did spend the entire time quoting Winnie-the-Pooh and wondering how our daughter was doing (fine, it turned out). Fiona went to the zoo (again), and was very excited to see the elephants. She also got to do some more swimming in the pool and increased her mastery of going up and down stairs (she's even started doing some of the two-step landings standing up!) She did very well and both flights, although she wasn't going to do anything so foolish as sleeping when she could be awake, climbing all over Mommy & Daddy, and wearing us down as we tried to keep her from climbing into the aisle. We're trying to get her back on east coast time (not too quickly, since we're enjoying sleeping past 6:45 a.m.) and weaning her off the round-the-clock Pooh DVD diet that indulgent grandparents allow but cruel parents don't.

My favorite story took place while we were off camping and Fiona was staying behind in San Diego. Nonny & Pop held a small party for their friends to show off their granddaughter; apparently, Fiona spent most of the time walking around the (covered) pool carrying a balloon that somebody had brought for her. After dinner, Fiona was put back on the ground to play while the adults tried to have a conversation. Fiona knows what her post-dinner routine is, however, and poked Nonny on the leg to tell her it was "bathtime." Nonny told her that they'd do it in a little bit, but that she should go ahead and play for a while. Fiona took a walk around the pool and then came back to Nonny. This time she told her more forcefully: "bathtime!"

I guess parties are all well and good, but you can't keep Fiona from a chance to play with her bath toys.