Sometime in the last couple of weeks, my baby has turned into a little girl. She talks in complete sentences. She sings songs. She imagines things. She acts out scenarios with her stuffed animals and dolls. She prompts us when she wants something: "Want some breakfast, baby?" she says, sotto voce. When we repeat her question, she responds with an enthusiastic "Okay! How about...oatmeal!"

The other morning I was making some scrambled eggs for breakfast. When I put them in on her high chair tray, she ate a couple of bites, and then said, "Wanna cookie, baby?" I didn't bite. "No cookies for breakfast, Charlotte," I answered. She paused. Then, enunciating every word and speaking loudly, as one does to a foreign speaker, "A cookie. OATMEAL. RAISIN. COOKIE."

I laughed, but I didn't give in.

She is a toddler now, and she knows her mind. She has a strong will, and she lets you know about it.

"NO DIAPER!" she'll shriek on the changing table. "Be naked! Be naked, and run around!"

I encourage her to go potty in the toilet. "No potty inna toilet," she says. "Potty onna grounds."

When it's time to eat, I tell her to go over by her highchair. "No eat inna chair," she insists. "Eat onna steps."

But just as frequently as she is trying and tiresome, she is the sweetest little girl I've ever met. When I go to get her out of her crib in the mornings, she usually greets me with a big smile and a "Mama's here!" The other night, while she was running around upstairs before bedtime, I lay down on the floor of her bedroom. She stopped in her tracks, and made a beeline for me. "Mama...my mama," she said softly. She lay her head down on mine, cheek against my cheek. She stroked my hair with one hand and hugged me with the other, all the while murmuring "mama, mama."

And in this corner...

We have a t-shirt wearing bulldog. Yep, that's right...an acceptance from University of Georgia today!

Uh, this is getting more complicated than I anticipated. I have eight more schools to go (got a perfunctory waitlist from OU today) and the ring is getting crowded. Not that I'm complaining!

Maintain Radio Silence

I'll assume from the lack of acknowledgement, let alone response, to my last post that y'all patently Do Not Want the Tigs to pack up your niece/granddaughter/no-relation-but-still-love-her Charlotte and move her to the godforsaken country of Western Massachusetts. I know, I know. I already google-mapped it and I know it's far away. Just rest assured that all the results are not yet in, no decisions have been made, etc. So stay tuned.

Also, how do you think the UMass Minutemen would fare against the Salukis or the Jayhawks? I mean, he looks pretty fierce and all in that photo. He's got his sleeves rolled up to expose his biceps, no doubt strengthen'd by years fpent fhoveling manure on ye olde horfe farm. But you know that behind that logo he's wearing knee-breeches and tights. Not too encouraging.

In other news, today is Charlotte's 20-month birthday. We spent some time watching movies of Charlotte from a year ago. Holy cow, she's grown up! I mean, I know she had, but...wow. She went from this chubby little squealer to a real-live walking and talking toddler.

She loved watching the movies, too. She laughed along with her baby self, and pointed out people she know when they came onscreen. Maybe we'll start a new tradition of watching old Charlotte films more regularly.

I spoke (posted?) too soon...just received an email acceptance to University of Massachusetts-Amherst!

Charlotte just told me she wants to "color a-picture a-Johnny Cash a-doggie bones." I'm sure that's just the thing a deceased music legend wants!

No new news on the grad school front. I keep waiting until I have exciting news to post, but that's apparently not happening, so I'll return to my usual format of humorous Charlotte quotes.

Charlotte has a message for you:

No, not "I love you." The message is "grrrrrr." Look at that face! It's the best I could get her to smile this morning.

Happy Valentine's Day from all of us.

Salukis vs. Jayhawks: A Deathmatch

Yesterday I got an acceptance from the University of Kansas. I think I'm going to make decisions based on imagined wrestling matches between university mascots. So, who do you think would win: a weird, permed-eared dog, or a jaunty, mythical shoe-shod bird?

One down...

Twelve to go. I got my first grad school response today--an acceptance to Southern Illinois University in Carbondale. In addition, I've been nominated for a doctoral fellowship (which I'll find out about March 7). It's a good start!

Will it make me check my mailbox or inbox with any less frequency? Probably not.

I'm usually gone to school when the mail truck arrives. I don't have office hours on Fridays, so I'm sitting here, checking my email while Charlotte colors pictures on the floor behind me, when it pulls around the bend. "The mail is here!" I squeal to Charlotte, who says "yep," unimpressed, and returns to her coloring. I am waiting impatiently for the mailman to unload everything and leave before I throw on my shoes and coat and run out to check.

Last month, I finished the final of my thirteen Ph.D. applications. And while it is still a bit early to be expecting responses, I am a woman obsessed. Every phone call, every email, every thin envelope or fat 9x12 could be a potential yes or no. Every time I approach the mail box, mail key in hand, my heart starts racing. This really isn't healthy.

***

Well, I'm back. Nothing. Junk mail never seems so junky as when you're waiting for something really important.

She's a Lady

Charlotte can't get through a meal these days without barking out commands: "Clean a-hands! Clean a-hands!" I dutifully wipe her hands off so she can continue to pick up mac-n-cheese pieces with them, or yogurt, or eggs, while she clutches her utensil in her other hand.

This morning she woke up with a runny nose, so it's "Clean a-hands! Wipe a-nose! Maaamaaaa!"

I'm thinking of setting a formal table complete with finger bowl for Her Majesty.

Last weekend, Jeff, Charlotte, and I headed to Chicago. Technically we spent a majority of our time in Palos Heights, at Trinity Christian College, from which Jeff and I graduated. I was invited back to participate in the Dan Diephouse Graduate Studies Conference, as a panelist and presenter. I had a great time doing so, in part because I realized that I've become a real self-educated expert on the process of applying to graduate school. It was also amazing to be back on Trinity's campus with my daughter. Only eleven (!) years ago, her father and I were sneaking off to the baseball dugouts to neck or holding hands surreptitiously in chapel. Now we were taking turns chasing our rambunctious toddler around the cafeteria or chapel or new cafe (of which I am extremely jealous).

I have two favorite memories from the weekend. The first was after the breakfast panel discussion on Saturday. Students, alumni and faculty were mingling after the panel adjourned, talking casually and catching up. I walked back into the meeting room at one point and found my former undergraduate advisor, who is now the department chair, and a new English faculty member crouching on the floor, coloring pictures with Charlotte.

The second was at Shedd Aquarium later that same day. My parents and brother plus Mindi joined Jeff, Charlotte and I for a trek downtown. I had decided weeks ago that gray, slushy February would be the perfect time to check out one of Chicago's indoor attractions; the rest of the city and tri-state area apparently felt the same way, as the museum was packed. But we forgot the crowds as we witnessed Charlotte's awe and excitement over the fishies, turtles, penguins, and octopi. I got choked up when she was sitting on my lap, watching the dolphin show. I kept pointing out the dolphins as they jumped out of the water or flipped their tails. "Do you see him?" I'd ask. In response, Charlotte would nod, too entranced to respond. Later that night, she recounted to all of us in the van what she'd seen. "A-dolphins...ina POND! What doing? Dolphins JUMPING! A-dancing! Ina water!"

Are all 19-month-olds this entertaining?

Some days Jeff and I just sit, watch and listen to Charlotte as she provides her funny, random running commentary on the world. We went out for a walk yesterday. The second we're out the door it begins.

"It's a birdie! A birdie, a-flying! A-a-a-fly AWAY in a SKY!"

"We walk...a-weird. We walk a-weird." (This is her interpretation of a song with the lyrics "We walk through the world.")

"Mama alright. Dada alright." (I have to admit to playing "Surrender" by Cheap Trick for her once or twice. It's part of my running mix. She's picked this part of the song up.)

Someone drives by in a car. "Hello, car. Hello lady. Lady...a-driving. A car! Noisy car!"

Right now Charlotte is eating ("Mmmm. Delicious oatmeal! Funny Grandma [the Quaker on the box]!") She stopped in the middle of a bite and said "Charlotte kiss mama?"

I was happy to help.

Found it!

The cord to the video camera, that is. Watch Charlotte's new video here. Pay particularly close attention at 3:51 and 4:55--you might need to turn up the volume. We're so proud.

I don't know if my haggard, weary expression, rumpled hair and smudged glasses, or coat thrown hastily over my pajamas clued her in. More likely it was the fact that it was after midnight on a Saturday night at Wal-Mart, and I was buying a humidifier and Vicks Vap-o-rub.

"Somebody sick at your house," the checker, whose nametag said "Sheryl", said. It was a statement, not a question, but I answered anyway.

"My baby," I said, feeling every bit as weary as I looked.

***

Charlotte is sick. She's had a persistent, hacking cough for a while now. I'm ashamed to say how long. I guess it started as a normal cold before Christmas. Then, she seemed momentarily better when we got back to Ohio after the New Year. But I'm wondering now if it never actually went away.

Last week she had a fever, and some diapers whose contents were suspended somewhere between the states of liquid and solid. This weekend, her poor nose was so stuffed up that she would snore herself awake almost hourly at night, and wouldn't nap at all. Hence the midnight humidifier purchase. If she's still as bad tomorrow, we'll bring her to the doctor.

What is it about sick kids that makes everyone bust out their horror stories? If my baby has a runny nose, I want to hear "common cold," not "my nephew had that and they thought it was nothing and it turned out to be THE BUBONIC PLAGUE!" Charlotte does not as of yet have any supperating buboes, so I think we dodged that bullet. But, seriously, why, people? I'm worried enough rocking my baby back to sleep for the fifth time that night. I don't need to be worrying about pneumonia or the whooping cough or anything else I can't do anything about until daybreak anyway.

Now watch: we'll go to the doctor and she'll have pneumonia. If you need the address to which to send my Mother of the Year award, just email me.

I know, I know...it's been a week and I haven't posted anything. I KNOW! I have this GREAT video of Charlotte that I'm going to put up here just as soon as I can find the cord I need to download it from the camera. I know it's around here somewhere...

What Charlotte Does These Days When Asked To Smile: Photographic Evidence

Exhibit One: The Squinty Wince:



Exhibit Two: The "Underbite":

Exhibit Three: The "Bulldog":

Pardon the unedited nature of these shots. These are the raw files from today's 18-month photo shoot. I took nearly 40 frames and got only one shot where she was sitting up relatively straight and looking in the general direction of the camera with her eyes open.

A conversation

The scene: Breakfast. Charlotte has moved on from her first course of scrambled eggs with ham to oatmeal, although she still has a piece of ham on her shoulder. I am eating oatmeal as well.

Charlotte: (muttering to herself) Delicious. Delicious.
Charlotte: (out loud) Hi, mama!
Mama: Hi, Charlotte! How are you?
Charlotte: (silence)
Mama: How are you, Charlotte?
Charlotte: Ooh, ham!

Moments later:

Charlotte: Hello, ladies!
Mama: (laughing) I can only assume you mean me. So, hello!
Charlotte: I'm fine!
Mama: I didn't quite ask yet, but that's good to hear.
Charlotte: Fine! Good! You?
Mama: I'm fine, tha...
Charlotte: (interrupting to bellow) DELICIOUS HAM!

Tonight, Jeff, Charlotte and I were all out for a walk. One thing Charlotte likes to do is greet people she sees with the name of someone she knows. Typically, she goes for the closest approximation. So any gentleman over the age of 65 is Dick, the name of our apartment office manager's husband. Guys are generally Uncle somebody (Awesome, Mark, or Steve). Girls are typically Becca, Mindi, or, for a pair of ladies, "aunt Katies."

Tonight, Charlotte pointed ahead of us on the bike path and said "two aunt Katies!"

"Uh, no, Charlotte," I responded. "That's just one person. And he's a guy. He's not even one aunt Katy."

But I thought I had more time!!!

Charlotte has a new favorite word. That word is "no." This is her standard response, even when she actually wants something, a time when the answer for most people would be "yes," or "sure," or even "hey, why not!" A typical conversation:

Mama: Charlotte, are you hungry? Do you want some mac-n-cheese?
Charlotte: No!
Mama: Are you sure?
Charlotte: No! No (less certain now). No no no (melting down, waving arms around wildly).
Mama: Uh, okay, let's get you some food.
Charlotte: (while running to the high chair) No! No no no!

Or this one:

Mama: Hey, Char-char, let's take a bath*!
Charlotte: No! No bath.
Mama: Yep, it's bath time. We can play with your cups!
Charlotte: (while climbing the stairs to get to the bathroom) No! NO CUPS!

I know this is normal. But what I don't understand is, I thought it was normal for a two-year-old. You know, two? When demonic little imps take over the once-angelic form of your child, and you're left with a quivering wreck of a toddler who can't tell you what she wants but can only emphasize that what you're offering is definitely NOT IT.

The thing is, Charlotte is 18 months old. A year and a half! That's not two, imps! Leave her alone!

*By which I mean, "You take a bath." I don't get in there with her or anything.

Happy New Year!

One of my resolutions for this site is to start a couple of regular features. One that I am starting today is the weekly photo of Charlotte. It's sometimes hard for me to think of things to write, so I took a page from my writing instructor's book: write a description or evaluation of an image. Describing a photo of Charlotte (why I like it, why I took it, what's going on in it) is a great way to tap my memory.

So here's the first one, kind of a cheat since it's from last week, but cut me some slack! I was on vacation!

This is Charlotte, all bundled up and enjoying the fresh snow in Iowa. You can also kind of see the downed branches on the trees in the background from the major ice storms that moved through the Midwest in December. Charlotte didn't stay out for very long--long enough to watch Nana Deur build a tiny snowman, but it was pretty cold.

One thing this picture makes me think of is the book Snow. It's one of Charlotte's favorites, and occasionally she busts out some of the lines from the book, like "Oh yes, oh yes" (which in the book is followed by "I do like snow.") or "Come out! Come out!" ("Come out in the snow!").

Also, the way she pronounces "snow" is pretty adorable. It's hard to describe, but it sounds a little bit like "no" but with kind of a nasal thing at the beginning. That's how she starts any word that begins with the "sn" sound: "snake" is "nake," "snail" is "nail," etc.

Speaking of pronunciation, remind me to tell the story of the way Charlotte says "fork." I bet you can guess!