Mini Melt Down

Not hers, mine.

See, I called the dermatologist today to see if I could get an appointment. Soon. The creams he prescribed weren't helping, and in fact, things are getting worse. My face is feeling tight and uncomfortable.

There was an opening today. Phew.

I texted nanny and Amy to confirm coverage for Calliope, since the appointment was for 4:30. Both confirmed availabilty.

After just barely missing my stop, I quickly got back on a train coming back the other direction, and was still on time for my appointment.

And then I sat. And sat. And sat. The waiting room started out crowded, and slowly thinned. People that came in well after me got called in to see the doctor.

I started to get antsy. I read two supremely boring magazines.

Finally, after an hour, I got up and asked how much longer. The answer was five people had gone before me, and there were two more people still ahead of me. The receptionist added airily, in response to my query, "It could easily be another half an hour."

I went back and squirmed in my seat.

I was imagining that Amy would've finished feeding the girls dinner by that point, and was no doubt impatient to take her own child home to bed.

Two more latecomers got called in. With the second, I popped up and went in front of him.

"Please." I pleaded. "I'm a single mom. I work full time. I have a baby at home waiting for me. I've been waiting for an hour and twenty minutes."

And then, to my embarrassment, tears welled up.

Where the hell did that come from?

I literally cannot tell you the last time I cried. I think it was within the first month of Calliope's life, when she woke me up just one too many times.

The receptionist -- much nicer than the first one than the one I spoke to previously -- promised me it would be mere moments, and had me sit in the hallway of the inner sanctum while she peppered me with cheerful questions about my daughter -- seriously, lady, you aren't interested! why are you pretending? -- that I answered in monosyllables as I tried to get myself under control. Totally embarrassing.

A couple of minutes later, I was put in an exam room. At the time I would normally be changing Calliope into her pajamas. The doctor came bustling cheerfully in, examined me, and prescribed some new creams to try.

At the end of the visit, I explained, "Listen, you're very nice, and I love coming to see you. But I waited ninety minutes to see you. And I'm a single mom and I work full time and I just can't afford to wait this long."

Because the truth is, while this feels very whiny, it's absolutely true. I couldn't have a repeat of today. There's just no room in my schedule for it. And he listened very sympathetically, and told me that the next time I need an appointment, to tell them to schedule me on a Friday, when he does only scheduled procedures, so that I won't have to wait so long.

Phew. Otherwise I was going to need to find a new dermatologist, or stop caring about the way my face looks.

It was odd, though, how completely depressed I was at the thought of not getting to spend time with Calliope tonight. It's one of those things that I couldn't understand before I was a parent. It's one night out of, like, a million. Right?

(Oh, then I called for a cab to rush me home and it took twenty five minutes to arrive. I could've gotten home by train in that much time. I was coming out of my skin with frustration.)

I think my hormones are in flux from weaning. I'm glad I've been warned to expect some blues as a result. Still, it's an unfamiliar feeling after all these months -- since the day of the positive pregnancy test -- of sunshine.

When I arrived home, Eleanor came rushing into my arms, shouting "Abby! Abby!" to give me a huge hug. Calliope, meanwhile, was too busy tearing paper to look up at me.

I guess she wasn't missing me, then.

Tonight, though it's only been four days since we took the plunge and started substituting a muffin for the morning nursing... I upped the ante. I got her ready for bed in the living room after giving her a bedtime snack, then read three books instead of our typical two, and sang our good night song on the couch.

As I got to the end of the song, she started whimpering and saying, "No!" And then, piteously, "neh neh."

I calmly (prayerfully) answered, "You had a muffin instead of neh neh." And she was quiet!

She said "neh neh" one more time as I carried her into her room -- blinds already drawn and lights out in hopes of speedy getaway -- and again I said, "No, you had a muffin."

I put her in her crib, she whimpered once or twice, and that was it. Silence.

I walked out and started to get teared up again. Yesterday was maybe, probably, my last nursing. And I didn't even know it.

But then I remembered that it made my skin crawl last night. I don't know why, but suddenly it made me unbearably claustrophobic. So I'm not nostalgic for that. But still, it's the end of an era. If I never have another baby (and I hope to, but of course there's no guarantees in life), last night could have been my last nursing, for life.

That's a pretty major milestone.

Two Friends Take a Winter Walk

Eleanor: "Do you think these snow pants make my legs look short?'

Calliope: "Hmm, let me take a look... No, I don't think so."

"But everyone is going to notice how short we are if you don't start walking a lot faster,
Eleanor."

C

Cute Things My Eighteen Month Old Has Done This Week, and a Weaning Update

What's more fun than a non-functioning water fountain?

Daredevil sitting on the water fountain arm without support...
The cupcake hat from infancy still fits! (the velcro on the ugly
green fleece one is on its last legs so we're trying out other options)

Tenderly cradling Baby Annie during a cab ride. I think she may
have been nursing her but I didn't dare ask about such a loaded
topic.

• Calliope, wordlessly garbling, "I'm going to get you!" to the kitchen timer as she menacingly advanced her hand towards it, then tickling it.
  
• Calliope coming over and leaning against me before tilting her face towards mine and pursing her lips for an exceedingly rare (read: never happens!) daytime kiss... as I held a series of newborn babies (three babies during the course of two different days). Then she squatted down and started inching her bottom backwards across my lap, insinuating herself into my lap, doing her best to "accidentally" displace the infant located in that prime real estate.
  
• Being so delighted to have her very own cloth napkin in her lap for the first time... except when Mommy dares to remove said napkin from said lap for the purpose of wiping a small and dirty face. Cue indignant protests.
  
  The napkin was replaced and I used my own napkin to wipe her face instead... and then Calliope thoughtfully used it to wipe my face for good measure. After dinner, Calliope gave her new friend Napkin a big hug before taking it off to play in her kitchen.
  
• Well, this doesn't make good anecdote material, but now, whenever I am in the kitchen, Calliope runs to the dining area of our kitchen (a few feet away) and asks "this?" pleadingly until I figure out what she's asking, and drag a chair over so she can stand on it to watch the action. It's hard to remember that for a toddler, our most basic tasks are fascinating. Things like slicing an avocado.

I'm hoping to come straight home from work tonight to make carrot muffins with her. She continues to love cooking with me. I made a batch a week ago (without her) and they were a huge hit. I'm hoping she will like them even better when she helps to make them. They are quite healthy, with a limited amount of honey for sweetener (though I'm going to decrease it even more, maybe to half, just 2 tablespoons) and coconut oil and six, count them six eggs (since C refuses to eat eggs, this is a great way to get a little of their excellent protein into her... and they are pasture raised, soy free, and totally organic, so even better).

The muffin project is especially urgent because today was the second morning in a row that Calliope skipped her morning nursing!

I went into her room this morning to wake her -- just turning off the fan (white noise) and opening the shades does the trick -- and she bounced up and asked, "Nastya? Nastya? Nastya?" (that's the nanny). I guess she was excited to see her... and I can officially declare the clingy phase of morning routine to be over! So I scooped her up and we hurried into the kitchen to say hello to the nanny, then I offered the muffin, which she gladly accepted. I'm happy to have a suitable distraction for nursing so I think I will keep the muffins as a special treat for mornings only.

Nastya and Calliope sat at Calliope's little table while I made my tea, then I joined them and Calliope slid into my lap to cuddle while she ate her muffin. I successfully eluded her greasy hands (note to self: use less coconut oil in the muffins next time!) and she chattered away at us, delighted to have the full attention of both of her favorite adults -- a rare thing in a world where Mommy and Nanny trade off.

Calliope asked twice for "neh neh, and holding my breath each time, I answered breezily, "you're having muffin instead."

Amazingly, she accepted this response.

But oh, my heart felt a pang, leaving this morning and seeing her sweet tousseled self toddling around the living room in her pajamas, bidding me a cheerful "Bah bye!" as she got Baby Annie set up to rock in the glider. I haven't yet entered the phase where I'm glad to return to work on Mondays. I miss her each time a weekend ends.

My current idea for eliminating the nighttime and final nursing is to get her a special new cup, a Big Girl Cup (her buddy Eleanor calls her special Big Girl Cup, given to her when she gave up bottles, "BaCup"), and put warm sweetened or vanilla flavored milk in it. And to make a really big deal about the cup. Right now she refuses to drink cow's milk (or breast milk, for that matter) in a cup, and life would be so much easier if I had an alternative to offer her for nursing. So my (distant) hope is that sweetened, warmed milk might do the trick. If I can get her to make the switch, then I can gradually substitute plain cow's milk for the sweetened stuff.

I'm not at all sure this will work, but I'm going to try.

I think I may also try making the switch when we are at my mom's house in a couple of weeks for my spring break. I'm guessing that breaking up the routine might make things easier?

Please, if you have any suggestions, chime in! Particularly on how to get a breastfed toddler to accept cow's milk. But also how to drop the final nursing without tears. Mommy can't handle tears when it comes to weaning. Funny how sleep training didn't phase me (after the first round or two, once I saw how she responded so well to it) but this, well, I'm too soft.

Here's the recipe for the muffins, and a link to Hannah's blog where the recipe came from. Note: they are gluten free, in case that matters.

http://healthyfamilychronicles.blogspot.com/search?updated-max=2012-03-20T22:10:00-04:00&max-results=5&start=5&by-date=false

Carrot Raisin Muffins
(makes 12)
Adapted from the Well-Fed Homestead blog.

Blend the dry ingredients:
1/4 t salt
1/2 t baking soda (omit if doing the GAPS diet)
1/2 cup coconut flour
2 t cinnamon
Generous dashes nutmeg cloves ginger

Add the following:
6 eggs
1/2 cup coconut oil (*** I'm going to try using a little less so Calliope's hands aren't quite so oily -- that's a recipe for mess!)
1/4 cup honey (** I'm going to try halving this, as carrots are naturally sweet)
1-2 T vanilla (** 1 tablespoon is ample)

Mix in:
2 cups shredded or grated organic carrots
1/2 cup raisins (** I omit -- I can't stand cooked raisins!)

Spoon into buttered (or oiled) muffin cups and bake at 350 degrees until the tops are done. (*** I have awesome silicone muffin "liners"-- the muffin slides right out and they are incredibly easy to wash. And I don't have to oil them first. Muffin tins are a pain -- very hard to get clean, in my experience. I just set these "liners" on a foil covered cookie sheet and don't bother with the muffin tin at all.) 

For both recipes, allow the muffins to cool completely, then store in the refrigerator in an airtight container for one week (we have kept them longer and they've been fine).

Enjoy!

Glum About HappySad News

Can't be too sad with a girl like this in my life

The nanny informed me first thing Monday morning... she's pregnant. Unexpectedly, but happy about it, I think.

I'm happy for her, of course, but it was a hard bit of news to be hit with when I wasn't fully awake yet, and trying to get out the door.

I felt pretty anxious and stressed at work all day.

Then I made my peace with it. And even was excited for her.

I figured that Amy and I would get a new nanny and carry on. After all, when we'd talked about the possibility of N leaving in the past (we thought she might go back to school full time in the fall), she'd proposed that we get a new nanny and keep the nanny sharing situation going. She said she and her husband have been really happy with it. And I have been too, in case it's not obvious. In fact, I had hosted a meeting of parents of neighborhood ~18 month olds to talk about starting a preschool coop a couple mornings a week next school year. So I had been entertaining a fantasy that the girls could do that next school year (and stay with the nanny the rest of the time), and then have the preschool coop increase to three mornings a week for their three year old year, and then Calliope would (fingers tightly crossed!) secure a full day public pre-K spot in the school where I work and be able to go to work every day with me when she's four. In other words, keep her at home except for a few mornings a week until she's in public school.

Tonight I broke the news to Amy (who was traveling yesterday), who hasn't seen N since last week.

Amy looked startled, then pained. And sighed.

She also told me that she and her husband had put down a fully refundable deposit on a dreamy preschool in Manhattan, near his work. I think they did this a while ago, when N was considering going back to school in the fall.

I appreciate that she's being honest with me. But I'm scared that our idyllic life is going to change.

Yes, I know, I keep being afraid of that. Losing my job, my mom getting sick, and now the nanny.

If Amy decides to keep going with the nanny share, I think we can get another great nanny, hopefully one that still falls within our budgetary constraints. But if they decide to do full time preschool (a center) next year for Eleanor, our life will have to change a lot.

It won't be the end of the world. But I'll be sad. I love the life that Calliope lives right now -- napping in her own crib (without anyone else in the room), not having to rush her (and me, by extension) out of the house every morning. Having time for me to exercise in the morning because I don't need time to get her fed and out the door. Not having an extra stop in my commute every day on my way to and from work. Which means maximizing my time with her. Well, I suppose if I commuted with her, we'd have more time together, but I'm not sure it would be the highest quality and most relaxing time. And then, of course, the nanny we have now. She's amazing. She's been such a huge part of the girls' lives, with them since they were three months old. She will have made an impact on them in ways we will never fully appreciate, and as Amy pointed out, they won't remember her.

It's sad.

The end of an era.

An Uneasy Peace

It's been more than a week of only nursing twice a day.

But Calliope still pleads for "neh neh?" several other times a day.

Thanks to the sage advice of women on the SMC Forum, I distract -- "want some cheese" -- or acknowledge and commit to the future, "we will have neh neh after dinner."

Surprisingly, this works! So far, anyway.

I don't have the heart to make her cry by denying nursing to her, but so far, she's never pushed me. So she doesn't know that Mommy would totally cave.

I'm planning to wait on reducing further, to once a day, until she's not asking during the day so much.

I'm really relieved that I won't have to paint myself with vinegar or lemon. I think I'd nurse her until she was four before I could stomach that option.

In other news, I think I can fairly say that Calliope's high speed locomotion is now running! Roughly speaking. Slow and awkward, but running, sort of, nonetheless. Her little friend "Gah!" seemed like he was running practically as soon as he was walking, practically, but Calliope is apparently a more cautious type than he.

We go for lots of walks around the neighborhood and she's getting more endurance by the week. I can't wait until we can abandon the stroller. That appears to be a long way away, still. She turns and goes the opposite direction every few steps. Though bringing the doll stroller with us yesterday gave her a purpose -- propelling the thing down the sidewalk -- which is perhaps the reason she covered twice as much ground as usual, about three short blocks.

We went to see a ten day old baby yesterday, and two month old preemie twins today. I let Calliope warm up for a while before I held them. She didn't seem to mind, but she did come right over and pucker up for a big kiss from me, as if to say "just don't forget who's your favorite and very best baby." Normally I only get a kiss at bedtime. And then she started scooting backwards, insuinating her bottom into my lap. Luckily there was room for her and a newborn there. She was otherwise gentle and curious about the babies, if slightly alarmed when they cried -- her thumb would instantly go into her mouth while her other hand twiddled her ear.

Newborns are delicious, aren't they? I had forgotten how tiny and perfect they are. And also how much they seem like God's unfinished business. They really are just barely formed. Part of me can't wait to have another and part of me remembers how tired and awful my body felt, and realizes just how great life is right now. Still, it was awfully sweet to see Calliope gazing down at them, and to imagine her as a big sister.

Some day. I hope.

Weaning 2.0

After thinking about it and wondering about and worrying about... I'm suddenly there. I've arrived. I'm ready to wean.

It's funny how it was very sudden -- all of the sudden I was just over it.

I had originally, pre-baby, thought I might go as long as two years old but... the romance is over.

Calliope's growing well, if still on the skinnier side -- 20 pounds, 6 ounces and just over 32 inches tall at 18 months -- but she's eating a decent amount and anyway, I'm not convinced that breastfeeding is adding any calories. Probably she would make up the difference with solid food if she wasn't nursing.

So. The challenge now is that my increasingly opinionated toddler -- like, seriously, in the last week, she's becoming way more hard headed about pretty much everything -- is very attached to her neh neh's.

Right now I'm trying very hard to limit it to just twice a day. Up until now, it was supposed to be twice a day, but was more often three times a day (morning, bedtime, and right when I got home) and sometimes four times a day (on weekends -- before nap and late afternoon as well as morning and night). So now I've got a whole bag of tricks up my sleeve to distract her.

Someone on the SMC Forum gave me the following pearl, "Don't ever say 'no' to nursing. Say yes, but right after we do x. And then conveniently forget." This is brilliant advice. Saying no to her request is sure to cause melodramatic wails expressing pure heartbreak. Saying "yes, after" works much better, and at least half the time, she does get distracted. On Friday, I had a new toy for her (coincidentally). Today, the nanny had a couple of crackers at the ready. 

I'm hoping that if we can get through an entire seven day period without that late afternoon nursing, I can heave a sigh of relief and stop being quite so nervous about that habit being broken. 

Then I will have to figure out which to tackle next, morning or evening. I'm thinking morning, because I reckon I could scoop her out and rush her into the kitchen to find a banana. Maybe that would be distraction enough? I tried it once, a couple of weeks ago, and it was pretty much an epic failure, but I reckon I have to keep trying.

Do you have any brilliant suggestions? I'd love to hear them!

ETA: I just googled "weaning a toddler" and all the suggestions seemed awful. Everything from "paint your nipples with lemon or vinegar and your toddler won't want to nurse anymore" to "can't you just let your toddler wean herself when she's ready?"

It seems terribly unfair that BOTH alternatives -- weaning or not -- bummed me out.

Ugh. Have I just lost all the ground I had gained?

Eighteen Months, Or "What is 'Akhi'?"

Pictured with Baby Annie, purchased as a potty training aid, now her favorite toy

My girl has been in the world for a year and a half. Unbelievable.

The last month has been so much fun. She's adding approximately one new word a day. So far I can still keep up with them in her notebook. It's amazing to watch.

Funny, now, to remember that when she was about a year old, I was worried that she would be speech delayed because I wasn't talking to her enough. I felt like children with two parents would certainly hear more speech than an only child with a single parent who tried to talk as much as she could, but certainly got bored of pedantic one sided conversations with a silent infant. Oh, and then my "disadvantaged" child was with another silent infant and a nanny whose first language isn't English (but speaks English very well).

Oops. I guess I needn't have worried. Calliope and Eleanor seem to learn words from each other all the time. For example, in the last twenty-four hours, Calliope has just started calling all crackers "cookies," just like Eleanor does... which is especially funny given that neither of the girls know what "cookies" are. Prior to this, Calliope called them crackers, well, something like "cracker" that technically sounded a lot like "ga-ga."

So clearly she's not handicapped (verbally) too much by my solo status. Phew. Something else I can not worry about.

I don't actually know how many words she's "supposed" to have right now (I should know this from my nursing school days but I lost that knowledge in the early stages of pregnancy, never to return, along with things like knowledge of the whereabouts of my hiking boots... how DOES a person lose a thing like a bulky pair of hiking boots???) but I'm pretty sure she's fine.

It's also amazing to watch the connections she makes, connections I wouldn't understand if I didn't know her so intimately. For example, after breakfast, she points at the top of her toy kitchen and says "Ellie." Only I, and maybe her nanny, would understand that what she means... that she's pointing at Eleanor's toothbrush, sitting on top of the toy kitchen, because she knows it's time to brush her teeth, now that she's done eating, and furthermore, she recognizes that Eleanor's not there for tooth brushing after this particular meal.

Pretty amazing all that can be unpacked from a single word.

Tantrums, such as they are, are extremely short lived and usually end abruptly by way of distraction. The main thing that elicits strong negative reactions are diaper changes. She does not want to be laid down to have her diaper changed. As soon as I start, she starts to plead urgently, "Pah-ee! Pah-ee"! (That's "potty" for the uninitiated.) But she often only sits on the potty for a few seconds before wandering off (and never produces anything when I'm around, though apparently she's had more success of late with the nanny.) But as soon as I lay her back down, she pleads for the potty once again. So my rule now is that once she gets up for more than a few seconds, her "potty time" is over.

However, she's picked up a habit of screaming an unholy shriek when she's mad or frustrated, or occasionally, for no apparent reason. It usually gets better after time away from Eleanor, a weekend or longer, but gets worse after being with Eleanor again. Of course, this weekend it didn't let up at all, despite limited time with Eleanor. I generally pretend I can't hear her at all, and she usually tries another two experimental screams, to see if I notice, and when I "don't hear anything," she stops. I have a hunch this behavior may be just a little taste of what is to come as she approaches two.

She's both adventurous and anxious. God forbid I should leave her alone to go to the kitchen while she's playing in her room -- desperate tears result. Yet when we met my brother outside South Station (more on that in a minute), she stood quietly next to the car (under his care) as I loaded her stroller into the car... but as soon as she was back in my charge, she scampered off down the sidewalk as fast as her legs could carry her, giggling gleefully. She loves to run away and be chased. Which is sometimes fun and sometimes a little terrifying, as in the above example.

For the most part, though, she's easy going and fun to be around. She wants to see and help and participate in everything I am doing. As long as my expectations about my own productivity are low, we have a great time.

Our trip to Boston went quite well. I had to wake her up an hour earlier than normal to be ready for our trip, but she was in a great mood. I packed far too many snacks and gift wrapped entertainments (mostly books and toys she already owned -- many people advised me that gift wrapping makes things more time consuming and also exciting for a toddler), but I was glad to be well prepared. She loved the train, especially when I demonstrated that we could get up and walk around. After that, she wanted nothing more than to walk to cafe car and into the car beyond. She would impatiently shake off my restraining hand and toddle quickly ahead of me, careening side to side, laughing maniacally as she sprawled repeatedly.

I'm sure I looked like quite the neglectful parent as I hurried behind her, cracking up even as she went flying. Luckily no major head injuries resulted and I was at least exceedingly careful when the train doors were open.

Our best diversion was the DVD player. My friend Scott texted to ask how our trip was going; I responded "Calliope is watching a video and stuffing her face with processed food. God bless America."

She never gets unlimited screen time (rarely more than ten minutes) and had never yet had a snack in front of the screen but there's a time and a place for everything and this was the time for doing whatever I could to pass the time. Screens and puffs it is.

She was somewhat aloof -- more uninterested than anything more negative -- in my mother, who isn't a natural at interacting with children on her best day. She was more positive on my brother, once he sat on the floor and cheerfully played with her so I could work out, and actually let him carry her to the car while my hands were full of bags. And she was thrilled to play with my cousin's ten year old daughter, who patiently assisted Calliope on her numerous journeys up and down the thrilling staircase.

My cousin handed Calliope a plastic action figure -- a Samurai "guy," as she said. Calliope thereafter named every toy in the house a "guy." And then took that Samurai and rocked his tiny plastic body in her arms, saying "awww" in a loving, reverential tone. And then proceeded to pretend to change his diaper.

It's amazing what biology pre-programs in little girls.

My mom seemed well. Tired, but herself. The transfusion seemed to help, but perhaps the effects were already wearing off. Still, I know she was glad to see us, and that Calliope was a good distraction. It was good for me to see her, too.

My brother and I got along fabulously, our best ever. He was more generous with me than I remember, things like helping with Calliope so I could work out as well as organizing dinner, and I tried to repeat as a mantra "give him the benefit of the doubt," and the result was harmony. We stayed up very late on Sunday night talking, and both agreed that we want to keep working on things between us.

So the trip was a success, though indisputably exhausting. I'm debating now whether we should ride the train for our next trip or rent a car. I had hoped to stash baby clothes and the old car seat and stroller in my mom's basement but maybe it's not worth the stress of driving with my car-hating toddler.

A video of her singing along to Itsy Bitsy Spider -- she's getting a lot better with the hand signals, but I especially love the wordless warbling at the end along with the enthusiastic "yay!"

 http://youtu.be/lfI6Xo9dzrc

Language update (this is not expected to be of interest to anyone, really, but it's how I keep track for myself... to some day be turned into a Calliope Journal Book).

And "Akhi" is the mystery word. She says it quite often, in a variety of circumstances, and I haven't a clue what it means. I know this is one of those details I will soon forget, so I'm writing it down here to remind her later.


Words

1. here (when she hands me something, she says this, as in "here you go")
2. go (as in "let's go!")
3. clap ("cap")
4. car
5. diaper "da-doe"
6. bowl
7. pear
8. orange ("or")
9. apple ("app")
10. banana ("dada" -- my favorite of her baby words!)
11. cracker ("quack-ah")
12. cream cheese ("creaky")
13. pear
14. water
15. pee
16. poop ("pooh")
17. baby ("bay-bee" drawn out in an adorable lilt)
18. peanut butter ("mah" -- replaced tonight with "butter" -- I'm wistful about this)
19. book
20. bubbles
21. pop (as in, what bubbles do)
22. teeth
23. sneeze
24. E-I-E-I-O ("yie yie yo" -- like the song)
25. head ("heh")
26. belly
27. nurse ("neh neh" -- as in, breastfeeding)
28. potty ("pah-ee")
29. help ("heh")
30. all done ("elga")
31. cheese ("gheeeeeezzzzzzzze")
32. Jack ("Gah!" -- her buddy, whose name is now mentioned every time we leave the apartment, even to go to the trash chute three feet outside my front door)
33. Ellie (her nanny-sharing playmate, aka Eleanor)
34. Annabelle ("Bah!" -- her four year old idol)
35. Amy (Ellie's mom)
36. Mama
37. book 
38. "bock bock" (what a chicken says)
39. "Nah!" (what a cat says... in her alternate universe)
40. woof 
41. baaa
42. quack
43. neigh
44. moo
45. doggie
46. duck
47. Squirrel -- don't know how she knew this but she successfully identified one sitting on our fire escape, much to my amazement (and without any help from me)
48. Hi! (in the cutest lilting way)
49. Yay!
50. Bye bye
51. Umm (said thoughtfully whenever she gains access to the open refrigerator)
52. Up
53. Down
54. teeth
55. sneeze (only once or twice)
56. "me me me" (not sure this means something versus just being something fun to say)
57. And finally, this isn't a word, but whenever I say, "Can you say 'Grammy'?" she answers "Hi!" and presses her hand to the side of her head, as if holding a cell phone
58. girl -- the character on her pajamas
59. wall
60. tea
61. jacket 
62. hello
63. Annie (her doll)
64. orange ("ish" -- I don't know why, but it's very consistent)
65. mango (sounds like "yumyum")
66. money
67. bagel 
68. uh oh
69. shhh (blows on her finger and says "ffff")

Signs 

1. more
2. all done
3. water
4. food
5. bath (her favorite sign because she loves the song that accompanies it)
6. shampoo
7. soap
8. wash hands
9. change diaper
10. brush teeth (a sign that I made up)
11. tickle
12. shirt
13. shoes
14. socks
15. bubbles
16. I love you
17. help -- we use this a lot and it really heads off whining 
18. nurse (she's been doing this for a while but I forgot it last time) 

Sentence:

Just one, so far, and only said once, "Brush teeth!"

Unless you count the following as sentences? 

"Amy... yay!"

"Bagel... yay!"

Play date with her good buddies Eleanor, Jack and Eli. 

Eli and his parents are moving to Boston... we will miss them!

"Walk... yay!" 

Doing squats with Mommy's Rip 60 Straps

Calliope's "help" was the final nail in the coffin in attempting the impossible

task of assembling an Ikea miniature arm chair... thank god the nanny is better at assembling things than me! 

She wasn't too sure what to think of her first real exposure to snow. She didn't cry, but determinedly walked home
(one building away) after a mere five minutes of play.

She loves to carry things around the house on imaginary errands