C has been deliberately working on her “L” sound. (Right now it’s the typical toddler “W”.) She understands that her tongue needs to be near the front of her mouth to make the L. So she will stick out her tongue and blow exaggerated raspberries wherever the L should be, to wit:
Me: What do we see at the airport?
C: AirpPPPPBBBBanes.

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C got upset this morning when she zipped up her shirt and pinched a little skin. Ouch! She cried for a long time. She must have had some tears stored up—she seemed to go on longer than a little pinch was probably worth. As she was winding down from being really upset we would ask whether she wanted to [random distracting activity]. She would say, “No, I’m still sad!” and bury her head dramatically in her lovey and weep.

Then she wanted to lie down on our big pillow with a blanket over her entire body. I was reminded of a certain sister who once angrily stomped off to her room with every intention of staying there For the Rest of Her Life—“Maybe I’ll even die in my room!”

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C’s favorite book is I’m a Big Sister. We came home this afternoon and she sat herself down on the couch and started reading it to herself. She knows the whole book by heart! The cuteness of hearing her “read,” Someone new is at our house. Do you know who it is? It’s our baby! I’m a big sister now! cannot be measured with existing technology.

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C is weighing in on the name debate. In keeping with the admonition not to give a toddler too many choices, I ask her which of our current top contenders she likes best. “Do you like Dorothy or Margaret?” She says, “Dorothy. Dorothy’s my baby.” Well all righty then!

I later remembered that Dorothy is Elmo’s fish on Sesame Street. I’m also told that G-mommy read her a book about a donkey named Dorothy. So, the jury's still out.

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I’ve shared this with some family already, but while we were driving home from dinner last night she asked from out of nowhere, “Where’s Aunt S?” (This is the aunt dying from cancer/kidney failure). We said, “Aunt S is at home.” Then she said, “Aunt S is with Margaret.”

We haven’t decided on that name or anything... but a part of me wonders whether Aunt S was in another level of consciousness last night, somewhere hanging out with our baby. Well, why not.

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Also, and I don’t normally communicate with specific individuals through the blog, but this is for my mom…

I sing a silly version of Rockabye Baby, a version I made up that doesn’t involve a plummeting baby. (Yeah yeah yeah, I know we sanitize way too much in our culture, and it’s healthy and normal for kids to hear fairy tales and stories about the Big Bad Wolf and other age-appropriate bogeymen, er, bogeypersons. Sue me.) I came up with the alternate version on the fly, in real time one night. It ain’t great poetry, but she likes it.

Anyway, C’s favorite part of the game is to substitute random people and objects for the Baby in the song, e.g., “Rockabye flashlight in the treetop.” Tonight she asked for her MaDear:

Rockabye MaDear, in the treetop,
When the wind blows, the cradle will rock.
When the bough breaks, the cradle won’t fall,
And Mommy will keep her safe from all.

So, Mamala/MaDear, C picked you tonight. And yes, the bough’s going to break. But don’t worry, you will stay safely nestled in that tree, supported by the Great Mother. We said so.