No, that is her chair

She looks so old in this photoIt’s been awhile since I offered a Gabrielle update. Here are some recent highlights:

– She’s really taken to her Dora chair. We bought it for her just after her birthday. She quickly recognized it as HERS. She’ll grab her cup of milk or some kind of bite-bite and head on over to her chair to plop down and enjoy. Occasionally, when the baby throne is vacant, I’ll make a big show of going nite-nite. I’ll lay down on the floor and use her seat for a pillow. She’ll amble over good-naturedly and proceed to basically sit on my head. Not so much sitting, but walloring just enough to get me to move. She does this with no screaming or anger, just quiet confidence. She KNOWS she’s taking a seat whether I like it or not. It’s her chair afterall.

– Mexican food = severe diaper rash. It doesn’t matter the quantity. We know not to go there.

– She definitely understands the concept of “No.” Just ask her:

“Do you want to take a bath?”

“No,” she says matter-of-factly, shaking her head back and fro, back and fro.

“Do you want to go nite-nite?”

“No,” again, shaking the head.

“Do you want to give daddy a hug?”

“No.”

“Do you want momma?”

She just stares. She knows “no” isn’t the answer she wants, but hasn’t yet grasped “yes.”

– Cows are “moooos.”

– Back last month we spent a weekend at my dad’s. He has a bass mounted on a living room wall, and he took great joy in pointing it out to her and saying, “fish, fish.” She would just stare. She never echoded. A couple of days later when we were back in Boone, we went to Mike’s Inland Seafood for dinner. As soon as we walked in, Gabby spied a flounder on the wall and ran to it pointing saying, “Fisssssh! Fisssssh!” The first time she encountered live fish in a fish tank, she reacted like pop rocks with coke. Her favorite book now is the one about the goldfish.

– After a summer break she’s back in day care three days a week. Unlike in the spring when she stayed just mornings, now she spends eight hours away. It hasn’t been a problem. She loves “school” and all the teachers, and they all like her (or so they say). Amy looked into a different day care and actually signed Gabby up before ever setting foot in it. Upon doing so it wasn’t long before she set foot out. Fifteen minutes and she was in tears. Nine tiddlers were boxed into a space the size of a walk-in closest. One boy screamed nonstop and unattended while elsewhere another boy was pulling some other boy’s hair. The “workers” there didn’t do a thing but verbally chide them, “Don’t cry now” and “that’s not nice.” Amy reacted as if they were chanting “Kill the pig, slits it throat, spill the blood.” She grabbed Gabby and left without a word. We learned good day care should never be taken for granted.

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