Favorites, Vol. I

May I just say: I am kinda liking this blogging thing. It has been a much needed creative outlet for me in my current life stage, in which most creative avenues are roadblocked by fiscal responsibility or apartment management. Granted, those avenues are fairly frivolous and include things like "why can't I paint my apartmennnntuh?" or "why can't I buy cuter clothessssuh?" but still  a girl needs an outlet. And writing has been just that, so thanks for playing along.

THEN Grace went and wrote this adorable a couple weeks ago and reminded me that there were a couple other reasons I wanted to start blogging. So now you must be subjected to the "milestones" portion of this feature presentation, but really it's more like my favorite things. About Jordan and mothering and raindrops on roses, etc. I'll go easy on the sap, that gets sticky. And I'm sorrrrry, I know, I need to learn to control my photo urges, but this post is pic heavy so proceed with caution.

1. Chowhound
Jordan eats everything. It's one of her defining characteristics. But it's not just that she eats everything, she eats a LOT of everything. It's kind of like she senses a food crisis, goes into panic mode, and pile drives through whatever she can get her fat fingies on. Observe:

2. Saturday Night Fever

I have countless video clips proving that Jordan is a shorter, dorkier, more spasmodic John Travolta circa 1977. But you don't need those. Nor do you need the pic that I was sorely tempted to attach of Jordan unabashedly, unashamedly, completely unclothedly dancing like a crazy; my 2026 self didn't want to give 2026 Jordan another reason to hate me in her teenage angst stage. But this

is easily G-rated and also includes a cutest cousin ever cameo, and features Jordan Monster Potbelly.

3. I think I may be raising a son. Jo-Bug has shown zero interest in dolls, dress-up, or similarly feminine endeavors. However, she is staunchly anti-hair growth and loves to play cars all the livelong day

this is her feigned patience stance while I take my sweet time snapping a photo before pushing the car back to her.

4. Her Father's Daughter

a) I only have 14 trillion photos of how cute Sean and Jordan are together. But I think I need not say more than these: 

 4 pounds 11 ounces, a few hours old, and the complete center of her dad's galaxy.

short buddy, tall buddy.

b) The ease with which Jordan picks up the tricks Dad designates appropriate to teach her is slightly disconcerting considering they in know way further her mental development. I propose to you that they actually hinder it: 

• "bonk": "Jordan, hit yourself on the forehead and whisper 'owwwww'!"; "Sure no problem Dad, and I'll do it over and over and over again, and lose 3 or 4 brain cells with each whack."
• "get Dad a beer": she hasn't the strength to open the fridge on her own, but Sean cracks it and Jordan swings it open, retrieves a beer from the bottom drawer, hands it to Dad, and dutifully closes the door. Like a trained collie. This trick is quickly followed by:
• "cheers": Jordan grabs her sippy and Sean has his freshly procured beer, and they clink their bottles together like drunk Irish pub buddies.

In the meantime, I'm working on basics like "one, two, three!" or "Jordan can you say mama?" or "Jordan where's your hair?" and am usually greeted with perplexed glares and/or annoyance on the part of my young.

*to be fair and for my own records, Jordan has successfully located her eyes, nose (or rather the inside of it), ears, "big fat belly" (Sean's title), ears, lips and hair in the last couple of weeks. She also says "mama" but only after much cajoling (and not by way of addressing me, only by way of showing off a trick) and she vastly prefers to say "dada" on repeat.

5. But Her Mother's Daughter too

Jordan is a hit-or-miss car person. Sometimes she serenades me from the backseat or enthusiastically reads me her fave boardbook "Are You My Mother?" (yes Jordan, I am. Don't you dare go thinking that condescending Jersey is.) Other times, the car seat is THE END OF THE WORLD!! But we've found a remedy for the apocalypse. Jordan flails her right arm above her head aimlessly until I grab hold of her squishy hand

and even though steering becomes awkward and my arm goes into a coma after about 45 seconds, I can't say I'd trade this for pretty much anything.

6. You Better not Pout

Jordan has taken a page from the Days of Our Lives  script of late and put on quiiite the show when something offends her. If I refuse her a third sugar cookie, force the toothbrush on her molars, change her diaper when she's not in the mood, or look at her the wrong way, the bottom lip juts out impossibly, the nose scrunches up and the eyes close forcefully and dramatically in her best effort to squeeeeeze out a tear. I have yet to capture the face in its full glory - a sight to behold, truly - but these are close:

I think the offense here was "Jordan your eggs are almost  ready, just a couple more minutes."

Also note her baby rosacea that flares up when she's upset. And here:

 it was "Jordan stop sucking on the dustpan."

Current word list:

dada * mama * baba * hi (sing-songed in an octave higher than I thought possible for human vocal chords) * byeeee * yeah * uh-oh (to everything) * owwwww * Otsssss (for my sister Audrey) * Meh-yee (for Sean's sister Mary and my sister Mary) * Zu (for my sister Sue) * myyyy (mine, oh that one's fun) * ecks (eggs) * ice (eyes)

Current signed language:

please * thank you * more * I'm sorry * waves hi & bye * sign of the cross (ok, she just throws her arm diagonally in front of her face) * laces her little fingers together for prayers

Friends, believe me when I say that I could go on for pages more. I'm cutting myself off at 6. I have a few not favorites too, and I'm not saying that mothering is always a slice but dang, this is a pretty fun ride. If you have littles, you know what I'm sayin'. It's great right?