Potty Training

Last week I thought it would be a grand idea to meet my friends at the library for a play date.  As I chased Chloe through bookshelves, up the stairs, down the stairs, and past the vending machines, I quickly realized that leaving the house was a terrible idea.  Chloe wanted to play with anything that wasn't a toy.  It wouldn't have been so bad, but I had to chase her around with a baby in tow. 

About 20 minutes into the play date Chloe made herself a very poopy diaper.  Worst.  Possible.  Scenario.  Chloe hates having her diaper changed - especially poopy ones.  Most poopy diapers end with both of us in tears, because the whole event is just so horrible.  Sometimes I manage to talk her through it with a game or a song, but most of the time poopy diapers mean kicking, thrashing, screaming, and crying.  For me, it meant leaving the room to recharge my patience, and questioning whether 9:30 a.m. was too early to pour myself a heaping glass of red wine.  Anyway, so after 15 minutes of chasing my poopy pants toddler around I was sweating, nearly crying, and feeling defeated.  The other parents were giving me the stink eye or the oh-dear-I-have-been-there-and-I'm-so-glad-it-is-you-and-not-me look.  Assholes.

When I finally managed to get Chloe and Abram into the bathroom I realized I had grabbed Abram's diaper instead of Chloe's.  I sprinted to get Chloe's diaper.  The second I got the dirty diaper off, Chloe popped up and flipped over, effectively smearing poop all over the changing table and wall.  This is why we never touch anything in a public restroom.  She proceeded to throw the world's greatest temper-tantrum.  I strapped her down to the table and changed her diaper with fury.  When we were done we both needed a hug, but not from one another.  I told my friends I had to go.  I'm not cut out for this stay at home mom business.  I don't know how they do it. 

That day I told Chloe that was the last poopy diaper of hers I was ever going to change.  And I meant it.

Day 1:  Epic fail.  The day started out at 5:00 a.m. since this is the time Chloe is waking up again these days.  Paul kindly woke up with her and let me sleep in another hour.  We decided on going cold turkey with the potty training.  Maybe it isn't the best method, maybe it is.  But it is certainly our style.  Just take it away.  No remorse.  Except there was remorse.  The day was full of remorse.  First thing in the morning Paul had Chloe throw her diapers away.  She was really excited to throw them out and wear big girl underwear.  He gave her a "potty watch" to wear, and she was thrilled.  A potty watch is an as seen on tv thing.  The watch is shaped like a little toilet and plays music and lights every 30, 60, or 90 minutes to remind her to try to go potty.  We set the watch to 30 minutes.  When I came downstairs at 6:30 with Abram the first thing Chloe did was run over to us, squat down, and pee on the rug.  Fail.  We brought her upstairs to take a bath.  Now if there is one thing Chloe knows is that you are NOT to poop in the tub.  Paul and I were both in Abram's room, which is right next to the bathroom (our house is really small so you can pretty safely walk to the next room and still hear everything that is going on) and were checking in on Chloe intermittently.  Maybe 30 seconds had passed before Chloe fell quiet.  When I walked in the bathroom the bathtub water was brown with poop.  Fail.  After that Chloe peed on our bed.  Fail.  Later she peed in Abram's jumpy seat.  Fail.  She peed her pants another six to eight times.  Fail, fail, fail, fail, fail, fail.  There was a whole two or three hours where she just screamed bloody murder from the toilet.  It was the serious hyperventilating type of crying.  I told Paul I feared we might scar her for life.

Chloe on Day 1 of potty training.  If she could give me the middle finger, she would.  She chose to wear her potty watch/tether on her ankle Lindsay Lohan style. 

The only victories of the day happened after her nap and before bed.  After her nap I banished her to the toilet where she screamed and cried.  She wanted to get off the toilet, because she had to pee.  I realized that this process would go a lot better if she were given a choice.  I had Paul bring down her little potty chair and let her choose to go on that or go on the big potty.  She chose her little chair and said "Chloe potty."  She pointed to the big potty and said "Mommy potty."  Two seconds later she peed.  YAAAYY!!!!!  Later that day I bought some jelly beans for a reward.  She saw them just before bed and threw a temper tantrum because she wanted them.  I told her to go on the potty and she could have them.  Sure enough, she whipped down her pants and peed on demand.  Then she pushed out two more little pees before bed because she was so excited about peeing on the potty.  We decided it was all or nothing and put her to bed in underwear.  The Pull-Ups just look too much like diapers, and we thought it would be confusing.

Day 2:  Chloe woke up at 5:15 a.m.  I practically flew out of bed to intercept her.  I was amazed to see her pants were dry.  I practically threw her on her potty.  She sat there all sleepy-eyed, and we read a book.  About five minutes later she peed on the potty.  She was super excited, and so was Mommy!!!  I did feel sad for Chloe shortly after when she ran over to the wipes on the floor and said "I want my diaper now."  I told her we threw them away, but she said "NO!"  She cried a little.  I asked her if she needed a hug and she said yes.  I told her I understood that she missed her diapers.  I called in the reinforcements (my Mom) for Day 2.  We spent most of the day in the bathroom with Chloe sitting on the potty and me and my Mom thinking of different ways to entertain/bribe her.  Despite our watchful eyes, she somehow managed to pee her pants in the ten combined seconds of the day that she wasn't being watched.  Both times, however, we caught her mid-pee and stuck her on the potty to finish.  Later that night our friends, The Klassens, brought us dinner.  Chloe loved playing with Harper, and she even stopped playing once to go potty.  Unfortunately, as the night progressed Chloe drew out one pee over several "accidents."  I think she peed herself five times in a row while playing with Harper.  Later that night she went potty on the toilet and we put her to bed.

Day 3:  Chloe woke up at 5:00 a.m.  She came in my room.  Again, I flew out of bed, but it was too late.  She was peeing while standing up, which is better than peeing the bed.  Despite a rough start to the day, peeing on the potty seemed much easier. We only had a couple of accidents and we didn't have too many full-on temper tantrums about using the toilet.  We took a two hour car ride back home and Chloe peed on the potty before we left and when we got there.  By the evening Chloe was peeing on demand (yes, just like a dog). 

Day 4:  Chloe woke up dry at 6:00 a.m. and told Paul she needed to go potty.  Chloe had a big day playing with her Papa and Grammy and her cousin, Andrew.  She didn't have any accidents.  Later that day she went to her Aunt Kendra and Uncle Chad's house.  She had a great time playing with her cousins Oli, Avery, and Tay.  Paul and I went out to dinner with our friends, Kellie and Jeff and Ryan and Kylee, and Chloe and Abram stayed with Kendra and Chad.  Over that time Chloe pooped on the potty.  Kendra said she started to pee her pants a little on two occasions, but quickly ran to the potty to finish.  She slept all night with Oli and Tay in a twin bed, because she is a big girl.

Day 5:  Chloe woke up dry at 5:00 a.m. and told Paul she needed to go potty.  We went to church that morning and then went to spend the day at Doug and Bob's house.  Chloe had only one accident that day where she started peeing her pants.  We caught her and she ran to finish on the toilet.  The biggest victory came when Chloe ran up to me and said, "I need to go poop!  I need to go poop!"  We ran to the potty and, sure enough, Chloe went poop!  I don't think I have ever been more excited about poop in my whole life!

Day 6:  Chloe woke up dry at 6:00 a.m. and told me she needed to go poop.  She still has a hard time distinguishing between pooping and farting.  So she tooted on the toilet and peed.  Big girl.  I took her to daycare today so that the other kids could cheer for her when she went pee on the potty.  This is going to be her last day at daycare.  Sad face.  More on that later.

For the most part we are just taking Chloe to the toilet every 2-3 hours.  Sometimes she doesn't go, but most of the time she does.  If she really doesn't have to go she gets pissed.  Yesterday she told Paul she didn't have to go then she said, "I'm not a baby, Dada."  We still have to pull her pants down and sit her on the potty, because she is kind of little to be doing that.  She has yet to tell us she has to go pee herself, but we hardly let her get to that point. 

When Chloe is peeing on the potty she gets the most hilarious look on her face, because she is really concentrating and listening for the pee to tinkle in the toilet.  She gets a huge grin on her face and exclaims "Yaaaaay Chloe!!"  She also says "Yaaaaay ____" to whomever is peeing on the potty.  She gives "knuckles" then "five" then some sort of chicken wing maneuver that the kids must have taught her.  It is so cute.  She flushes by herself and runs to go play.  No more horrific and embarrassing diaper changes.  THANK GOD!!

I am so so so proud of Chloe for being such a big girl.  I feel so happy to have accomplished potty training before I have to go back to work, but I also feel so sad to know that my little baby is getting so big.  I felt so sad for her knowing that she missed her diapers, but now she seems really happy to be done with them.  She is always talking about how she is a big girl.  And she is a big girl... but I think she'll always be my sweet baby.

The Mode Life: Update

It has been a while since I have linked any of my posts for The Mode Life to my personal blog.  Here is what I have been up to over there:


Featured Contributor: Cassie Tithof

Finding My Way Back To You

Don't You Hear Your Dog Barking?

Mean People Suck

Rodent Wars: Three Tips to Prevent a Mouse Infestation

Hunting Is for Girls: How to Find the Perfect Hair Stylist

The Name Game

Gluten Free: The New Eating Disorder?

Yay! Pee Water!

Chloe is at an age where sometimes she likes to be in a different room when she is playing.  Like any human being, she just likes to have a little privacy from time to time.  She is also at the age where we trust her to do this.  We peek in on her every so often, but for the most part we trust her. 

The other day Chloe was playing in the kitchen.  Paul and I were in the living room just around the corner.  We could hear her clunking around and we were taking bets on what she was doing.  Paul said he thought she was playing under the sink.  The cabinet below the sink is Chloe's favorite spot in the house.  It is her little clubhouse.  She hides in there all of the time and she hides stuff in there all of the time.  If you are ever missing anything like a single boot, a mitten, a pan, or your keys, chances are you will find it under the sink.  Anyway, I said I thought she was playing in the pantry, which is her second favorite spot in the house. 

After a few minutes I decided to go see who won the bet.  Nothing could have prepared me for what I found.  I stopped in my tracks and said, "Paul, come here.  It is worse than we could have ever expected."  We have a bathroom in our kitchen, and to my dismay Chloe was standing over the toilet grinning ear to ear and dunking her baby doll over and over again in the water.  I ran and got the video camera.  I figured she had been playing in the toilet for at leave five minutes... what's another 30 seconds? 

When I walked up to get a closer look I realized that the toilet hadn't been flushed.  She was playing in PEE WATER!  There was water and toilet paper all over the floor.  It was horrible!  Paul grabbed her and took her straight to the bath tub.  I mopped pee water up off of the floor, tossed her baby doll in the trash, and bleached the bathroom from floor to ceiling. 

I hate to admit that it was me who didn't flush, and I ALWAYS flush.  The thing is, I can remember not flushing, because the kids were sleeping at the same time, and for some reason I thought this would wake them.  You know those moments in life when you see a cup sitting on the edge of the table, a box of Kleenex on the floor, or pee in the toilet?  You think to yourself, I really should do something about that or else in about an hour there is going to be a broken glass, a thousand tissues, or PEE all over the floor.  But for some reason you are too lazy to push the glass three inches, bend over and pick up the box, or press the lever to flush the damn toilet.  I had that feeling when I didn't flush the toilet, so I got what I deserved.  I'm just sorry my kid had to play in my pee for five minutes for me to learn my lesson.

Something Cool

Something really cool about Chloe is that she is not a girly girl in the slightest.  I love that about her.  I know that some of it has to do with the fact that I don't dress her that way.  I think I was the only Mom on Facebook who didn't post a picture of her daughter decked out in pink and red and hearts and ribbons on Valentine's Day.  The thought of putting Chloe in a Valentine's Day outfit never even crossed my mind.  Honestly, if I had tried to dress her up in ribbons and bows she would have ripped them off and stuck them to Griffin's ears, anyway.  But I think a lot of it just has to do with her unique personality. 

For her birthday Chloe received a princess dress from my brother and her Aunt Shantel.  I wondered if she would play with it.  Paul put the dress on her the next day and told her to go show Mommy.  When she walked into the kitchen to show me she was walking very carefully, like she had explosives strapped to her chest.  She was poking the dress and making what I would describe as a "yucky face." We took it off of her and put it on Griffin instead.  She found this to be hilarious and far more enjoyable than wearing it herself.  Clearly, Griffin loved this, as well.

I wouldn't call Chloe a tomboy, either.  She loves shoes of all kinds.  I catch her on a daily basis trying on my shoes or Dada's shoes.  She thinks her pink sparkle boots rock, and she loves nothing more than when I bring her home a new pair of shoes.  She'll wear her new shoes around the house all day long.  She even wears her Cabbage Patch doll's shoes around.  Those "shoes" are basically just little plastic circles, and she walks around on her tip toes just to keep them on her feet. 

There was a brief phase - two weeks, maybe - when Chloe liked wearing her pink tutu.  I couldn't get it off of her.  She hasn't shown any interest in wearing it since.

Chloe loves a lot of "girly" things like baby dolls.  She has so many baby dolls, and she is such a good mommy to them.  She loves to change their diapers, take them for walks in her stroller, give them bottles, and read to them.  She also loves singing and dancing.  She loves a lot of "boyish" things, too.  She loves playing in the dirt, jumping off of the couch (and getting serious air and distance), farting, and pretend burping.

Even her animal sounds are boyish.  One day when I went to pick Chloe up from daycare I had the kids all playing Simon Says.  When I had the kids roar like a lion the two girls and one boy basically spoke the word "roar."  Chloe, on the other hand, let out a deep, gravely, ROOOOOOOAAAAR. 

I don't know.  She is just hilarious to me.  I love that she is somewhere in the middle of girly girl and tomboy.  I suppose that she is exactly like me.  I suppose that we are in for trouble.

Something really cool about Abram is that he looks just like his Dada.  I think if you were to shrink all 73 inches of Paul down to a mere 24 inches, the result would be Abram.  There is something truly amazing about getting to be in love with your husband as well as a little tiny version of him. 

What is even cooler is that Abram has Paul's personality.  He is so chill and happy.  He only cries when Chloe hits his head (this happens more than I would like since she is always jumping on us when I feed him) and when he is hungry.  I would say the only times that Paul is in a bad mood is when he hits his head or is hungry.  This morning Abram woke up with a wet diaper that had soaked the front of his onesie all the way up to his neck.  I couldn't tell he was that wet, because the pee didn't soak through his fleece jammies.  I was shocked when I went to change him and found that he had such a dirty diaper.  He didn't even fuss about it!  It is like he doesn't want to burden me.  He just wants me to be happy.  Just like Paul.  I love my guys!

Abram's Nursery

Let me start by saying poor Paul.  Since Chloe's nursery was never fully finished, I had some big ambitions for the tiny room we were going to call the new nursery.  I wasn't going to half ass it this time around.  It all started with Baby Drew, my co-worker, Andrew's, new baby.  When we went to visit the baby we got a sneak peak of his beautiful nursery.  The nursery had a very cool faux wainscoting that Andrew had did by himself.  He claimed the process to be quite easy.

I figured, hey, my husband is handy, I'm sure he could crank this project out in a weekend.  But when your house was constructed in 1926 nothing is ever easy.  Our floors were slanted, the walls were bowed, and we didn't have good studs available on which to nail the boards.  Overall, it turned out to be a huge undertaking.  My Dad came down to assist, but it still took a whole day to get the boards on the walls. Here is the project in Phase I.

Now, one of the many problems Paul ran into was that the boards couldn't be nailed to the wall, but instead had to be screwed to the wall. This was okay since we were going to be painting the boards anyway, but this also meant that the screw holes would need to be filled with caulk. Paul filled all of the holes and lined every board with caulk. When the caulk dried it had sunk into the screw holes. So then Paul had to fill the holes with plaster, which then needed to be sanded. The boards and the entire room needed to be dusted and cleaned before he could paint. Here is the project in Phase II all cleaned up and ready for Phase III.

Complete with four beers on the window.

Phase III was paint.  Paul and I HATE painting, and since I couldn't help him the task was even more daunting.  First he had to prime the entire room.  A few days later he painted the bottom half of the room white.  He then painted the top half of the room tan, and then finally finished by repainting the ceiling white.  The painting process took him a few nights.

We decided to order replacement windows for the room.  The room is super tiny if you can't tell from the pictures, yet it has three windows and a door.  Yes, I said a door.  We think its purpose is for bringing large items into the home like mattresses and bed frames.  At least, that is what we use it for.  That and shooting squirrels with an air soft gun.  I couldn't think of a great way to cover the door, but decided to take one of the window coverings from our bedroom and use it over the door as if it were a window. 

Anyway, two of the windows had large cracks in them and were painted shut.  All of the windows are single pane, so you can imagine that the room is quite cold.  I spent a little extra for custom, cordless blinds.  Our windows are not a standard size so it is difficult to find a window covering on the cheap.  Regardless, I got a great deal on the blinds online.

Originally, I was thinking of a "little monster" theme based on a cute vinyl wall decal I found on Etsy, but when we finally got the room all painted I didn't think the theme fit.  We decided to do a woodland animal theme instead. 

I bought these prints from an Etsy shop.  The designs were so cute and perfect for the room.  I couldn't think of a way to recreate the idea without it looking like total crap so I spent the extra money to order the prints.  It took far to long to receive the prints, but I'm happy with them in the end. 

I have to admit that I sort of ripped off the idea for these little animal pictures from the same Etsy shop that I purchased the ABC and number prints.  We basically just redrew the images onto cardstock, cut them out, and glued them to more scrapbook paper.  We stuck them in a frame and whola!  We saved at least $60, and didn't have to wait a whole lifetime for them to ship.

We reused Chloe's changing table and replaced the pink changing pad cover with a navy cover. I purchased a few storage cubes from Target that can be reused later when we replace the changing table with toy storage. 

I didn't waste my money on a crib bedding set this time around.  Instead, I purchased two sheets from Target with the matching crib skirt.  My Mom made us a few blankets, and we are all set for bedding.  We reused the Target rug we had in the room previously, but worked very hard scrubbing it clean.  We have had it for nearly four years, and it had really seen better days. 

To say the closet in this room is small is an understatement.  Still, we tried to make the best of it by adding some storage cubes and baskets.  I also had Paul jam this tiny, old dresser into the closet for more storage.  It was a cheap alternative to buying custom closet organizers and looks just as good in my opinion.

Paul isn't a big hunter, but his dad is, and he donated these antlers to the cause.  I never thought I'd want deer antlers in my baby's nursery, but I thought it would be cute in this case.

Abram - 1 Month

Wow, I'm already late on Abram's first monthly update.  I haven't written down anything from the first month, and since everything is just a blur in that first month, I'm not sure what I can recall.

Let's start with this.  At birth Abram was 8 pounds, 11 ounces and 20 inches long.  At six days he was 8 pounds, 13 ounces and 20.5 inches long.  At three weeks, Abram was 10 pounds, 9 ounces, and 23.25 inches long.  I swear those first two weeks Abram ate every hour.  At one month he is closer to eating every 2-3 hours. 

Sleep has been the word around here.  Abram gets lots of sleep during the day, but for the first few weeks refused to sleep at night.  I swear we would bring him upstairs, set him in his bassinett, and the very second Paul and I closed our eyes Abram would start to squeak and squirm.  The very second we put him down for bed he would come down with a serious case of gas.  It was like he knew exactly when we were trying to sleep.  I tried leaving the light on, sleeping downstairs with the light on, sleeping downstairs with the light and television on, swaddling, pacifiers, etc.  Nothing helped. 

Because we had a two year old sleeping just steps away in the next room I would end up holding Abram.  I think I held him all night the first three weeks of his life.  When it came to having a two year old awake or a two week old awake, the lesser or two evils was the two week old.  But, since we are huge advocates of NO KIDS IN BED, I realized this was unacceptable behavior.  The past two weeks I have been sleeping downstairs with Abram.  He sleeps in his chair now, and is finally figuring out his nights from his days.  On the nights when he decides to be wide awake for two full hours, I just flip on the television and hang out.  It is better when you just accept it.

The first two weeks Abram wanted nothing to do with Dada.  He thought everyone who held him was the milk lady.  He has since figured out that I am the milk lady, and Dada is a really cool face at which to look.  Abram loves looking at and being held by his Dada.  It is hard for me to just "hold" Abram since he always wants to eat when I'm holding him.

Abram loves his pacifier.  YAY!  We tried so hard to get Chloe to use her pacifier, but she always spit it out.  He doesn't much like to be swaddled, but he does love to be wrapped in a big, warm blanket. 

We had newborn pictures taken of Abram when he was about a week old.  This one is my favorite.  I used it on the front of our announcements.  Brooke Coffman Photography is amazing!

Abram was in newborn diapers and clothes for about a week, but has moved on to 3-6 month clothing and size 1 diapers.  He used to poop nearly every 1-2 hours, but he is down to just a few times per day.  I'm going to write this knowing that the minute I hit "publish post" things will change, but Abram has never once peed on me.  Everyone told me that I would get peed on every time I changed a boy diaper.  Abram has peed on Paul before, but never on me.  I hope that doesn't change!  He's my good boy.

You know, I just have to say that aside from the sleeping, Abram is the BEST baby.  He is so chill.  He only cries when he is hungry.  He loves being held and loves to cuddle.  He rarely has gas anymore.  Breastfeeding was so easy for us.  He latched on immediately, and I never once had the need for a lactation consultant.  Breastfeeding was so hard with Chloe.  It took weeks before we even got the hang of it.  She had gas all day every day.  Her farts were so loud.  She cried so much that I could hardly put her down the whole day.  I remember putting her down for a nap on her stomach for a while or else she wouldn't take a nap the whole day.  Abram will sleep pretty much anywhere, and when he isn't sleeping he is just taking in the scenery.  He never cries when he has a dirty diaper and never cries when I change it.  Chloe hated a dirty diaper as much as she hated having it changed.  I can't believe I used to tell people that Chloe was a "good" baby.  I had no idea what a "good" baby was!  I'm glad that Abram is so good, because Chloe continues to be the challenging one. 

Here is a picture of my big, sweet boy at 1 month!

Chloe - 2 Years Old

I've started writing this post on January 24, 2012.  I'm not sure how long it will take me to write it.  Today is Chloe's second birthday.  Two years ago today I was probably taking a walk around the block, taking a bath, eating greasy Chinese take-out, or watching the Titanic as I labored with Chloe.  That's not true.  I would have been doing that yesterday.  Two years ago today I was probably cuddling with my teeny, tiny 6 pound 8 ounce baby girl.  I was probably frantically calling a nurse in the room to watch me every time I attempted to nurse her.  I was probably thinking I never want to leave the hospital, because someone should be watching Chloe's every breath even when she was asleep.  How would I manage to keep her alive at home?  Two years later Chloe is very much alive.  She is full of life and energy and attitude.  I can hardly keep up.

At two years old Chloe weighs about 27 pounds and 3 ounces and is 34 inches tall.  She wears size 2T clothing and size 4-5 diapers.  She has a size 6.5 shoe.  She became huge nearly over night.  It took me changing and dressing Abram for two days in the hospital to realize that my baby girl is no longer a baby at all.

At two years old Chloe can communicate almost all of her wants and needs.  She speaks mostly in sentences, and she can understand everything we ask her to do.  Whether she actually listens is another thing.  She learns new words every day and usually after the first time hearing them.  Something funny Chloe is saying right now is, "No, Abram, that's Mommy's boobie," and "Abram eats boob."  I was worried for a long time that she remembered breastfeeding given her obsession with boobies.  For a long time she would just talk about everyone she knew and their boobies.  "Papa has boobies?"  "Dada has boobies?"  "Griffin has boobies?"  But she is so bewildered by my breastfeeding that I'm certain she doesn't remember the act at all. 

Chloe is still very advanced in the motor skills department.  She can scale any wall or piece of furniture.  Between stools and chairs it seems there is nothing that is unreachable in our house anymore.  We let Chloe go from the upstairs to the downstairs all on her own.  We even trust her to play upstairs or downstairs alone if we are on the main floor.  Sometimes she likes to play on her own like that, but usually she grabs one of us by the finger and says, "Come on, Mama, play kitchen (which is actually pronounced more like chichen) downstairs."

At two years old Chloe likes to play with her kitchen the most.  She loves to "cook" food for us and serve it up on a plate.  She waits eagerly as we pretend to eat it.  Everything is "really hot" and as she gets more and more excited things get "RE HOT!!  REEEE HOT!!"  She loves to play Mr. Potato Head.  She always makes a perfect potato head with perfect anatomy and then at the last minute she will stick an ear on top of his head or eyes in the back of his head.  It cracks me up.  One time she made this super happy boy potato head and said "Papa!" and then she made this evil looking girl potato head and said "Grammy!"  Sorry, Mom, but you know that was hilarious.  She also likes to play blocks.  She asks you to build a house so that she can knock it down.  She loves books.  She'll sit in the corner and read books to Griffin or to her babies.  The crazy thing is that she babbles on about actual things that are happening in the book.  When I get a new book she will listen carefully as I read it the first few times, and after that she can tell almost the whole story based on the pictures when she reads it to herself. 

Chloe loves watching Monsters Inc., Finding Nemo, Lion (Yi-on) King, Dora, Diego (Eggo), Sponge Bob (Bunge Bob), and cartoons (toons).  She asks to watch each of her three favorite movies on a daily basis.  I don't mind watching Monsters and Nemo, but for some reason Chloe only watches Lion King up to the point where Mufasa dies.  She always loses interest right as Timon and Pumba debut.  I swear if I watch Mufasa die one more time I'm going to fall into a deep depression.  So I try to steer clear of Lion King whenever possible.  Here is a picture of Chloe and her friend Zane watching Toy Story.  I pledge allegiance to the television...

At two years old Chloe can count to 14.  She knows all of her shapes including octagon and pentagon.  She knows all of her colors and can sing her ABC's (though not perfectly).  She knows tons of animals and their sounds.  She even knows some really weird animals.  She knows all of her body parts including things like heart and thumb.  She is always surprising me with the things she knows.

At two years old Chloe's ultimate favorite thing in the world is not a thing at all, but a person.  She is still obsessed with her Papa (my Dad).  She also has a deep love for her Grandpa (Paul's Dad).  She loves her cousins, and when she is playing I hear her talk about Oli, Ave, and Tay.  One morning she said to me "I miss Avery.  Oli?  Tay

Chloe loves to dance.  She loves The Laurie Berkner Band and she can sing the lyrics to most of her songs.  I love watching her dance to the music.  She has always been a great dancer and always moves with the beat.  She loves to dance with her Dada who is also a great dancer, but whenever I try to dance with her she usually gives me a look of disgust, puts her hand out to single stop, and says in a firm voice, "stop."  She can sing the words to all of the songs I sing to her at night or in the car.  It amazes me.

At two years old Chloe loves to hold her baby brother (under strict supervision, of course), put the pacifier in his mouth, rock him in his car seat, and watch me change his diaper.  She always asks to help.  She can sometimes be too much help.  Baby brother is not amused by having his pacifier shoved in his face when he isn't even crying or while he is sleeping.  He doesn't love being mauled with hugs and kisses when he is trying to sleep.  He doesn't love having blankets and toys put over his face (nor does Mama approve of this behavior), and he doesn't love having things thrown in the direction of his head when she is mad that he is breastfeeding, because "I want juish, NOW."

Obviously, I could go on forever about Chloe and what she is up to these days.  I'm going to cut this post off now since I've been writing here and there for a month and still have more to say.  Chloe, Mommy loves you so much.  It has been so much fun staying home with you, though I think my hair would fall out if I did this full time (it would have all kinds of Greek yogurt, play dough, and boogers stuck in it).  You are seriously hilarious, and I feel so blessed to be your Mama.