An Introduction

I’ve never considered myself a writer. When pressed, I can usually turn out a well written assignment. Writing for fun? Never. However, I’ve realized that our little nuclear family has been separated from the rest of our extended family for almost five years. Weekly phone calls aren’t much of a connection. Izzy is almost 15 months old, and her grandparents haven’t seen her since Thanksgiving. So, in an effort to keep everyone in the loop, I’m taking up this blogging thing. We’ll see how it goes. Even if no one reads these, I will at least have chronicled some of the small stuff that is so easily forgotten. I am going to begin with the present (why not?) and wander through memories or past things as I remember them.

Right now, Izzy is just waking up from her morning nap. After changing her diaper, she likes to stand on her changing table and play with the dimmer switch. She’ll pull the switch up or down and look at the light when she does. What makes it really cute is that she whispers, “Wow” in a serious voice as she does this. As we move into her playroom, there are toys galore scattered everywhere. She plays with some of them, but really likes the adult things. The car charger for one of our old cell phones is a particular favorite. Don’t ask me why. She’ll crawl around with that in her hand forever. The remote control for the TV and Juan’s old TiVo unit. She can turn both things on and mess with settings I can’t even access! However, when she wants to watch a movie, fix whatever she messed up, or demand something in general, out comes the Tim Allen impression. You know, the ,”Huh?” that he made famous? Well, imaging that about three octaves higher in pitch coming from a 15 month old dictator.

The “huh?” coming out of her mouth is a request (demand). It is up to us, her minions to figure out what it is and cater to her. She graciously gives us about five seconds to figure whatever she wants from us out. Than the “huh?”s become louder, higher pitched, and closer together; “Huh? HUH? HUH? HUH?!!!!” No pressure or anything. Right.

Speaking of the Baby Dictator, some pretty insistent “huh?”s are paging me to her room that she has been quietly destroying for the last five minutes. She probably wants me to open the closet door because she’s pulled everything out of the drawers and needs new order to destroy. Until the next installment. . .

Ciri

Five minutes later: Quick update: I actually found her in our bedroom. She had pulled the clean laundry to be folded out of the basket, climbed in, and was awaiting transportation in the Royal Chariot. Obviously, I should have used my mind reading powers to deduce that she was expecting me to shuttle her around.  Oy. The Royal Chariot(s) deserves its own post though. I’ll make it the subject of the next update.