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Last night, before bed, Buttercup was singing to me.  Her little voice is so soft and sweet.  They do a variety of songs in her Play and Learn class, and she was singing Row, Row, Row Your Boat.

“Row, row, row my boat
gently down my street.
Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily,
life is sleep.”

The fact that she replaced “dream” with “sleep” knocked my socks off, I’m amused and delighted :)

The toddler music class we’re investigating for after the holidays is looking more and more appealing.  They’re a nation wide thing, and I’m hoping that once we have the tour, I’ll be pleased.  She has such a musical lineage; it’s important to me to start her early.  They teach classes for all ages, so the class could grow with her as she gets older.

Her daddy plays the guitar and piano in ways that make me weepy.  The first time my mother heard him play the piano, she decided he was okay to marry ;)  His guitar is beautiful and bittersweet:  it always makes me think of places, as if they describe landscapes.  I’m very proud of him, how musically talented he is.  His brother plays the guitar and bass, too.

My mother plays piano, the cello, and a little guitar, and my brother plays the piano and guitar.  I used to play the cello, but it’s been broken for so long, I don’t know how I would do, anymore.  I can play Ode to Joy on the piano, which is somehow in my mind all I needed to know:  a gal should know how to play one song on the piano, in case 17th century British people come to call :)

In regards to Buttercup, she picks up songs so very quickly.  She knows all the childhood classics, and she’s ready to perform.  When the family was here, I put on some of her favorite songs, and she danced and danced, singing as she went.  When she’s a little older, I want to practice a big performance to do during the holidays.  I have a Sound of Music scene in my head about it :) 

I realized, when my brother was here, he played Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star on the piano, and next birthday party:  I’m getting all my musicians together to perform for the little ones!  I’m very excited about this, and if I have to drag everyone into it kicking and screaming, we are going to have a concert for the babies!

The biggest thing I love about being with Buttercup is the teaching.  Every day is a lesson on life, the world, and learning.  It’s my job to make it all exciting, interesting, and help her learn how to be a “big girl.”  It’s a challenging time of life, but I really wouldn’t have it any other way.

I think the most complicated factor with staying home with her has been making sure that she’s getting all of the social time she needs.  Or at least it was.  Thanks to the mother’s group crafts, field trips, and meetings, story-time at the library, a class she’s taking, and all the play dates we have been going on, I think she’s getting more than her fair share of social interaction. 

We might start her in a music class later in the winter, and there’s always ballet.  I love being able to do this huge variety of classes with her:  she’s always thrilled and showing off for me.  Everyday, it’s someplace different and new for her to raise baby hell.

She’s also thriving in her alone time, where she plays peacefully in her room during quiet time and before bedtime.  I’m proud of her for that, being able to chill out and do her own thing.  She’s never been super clingy with me.

We’re still looking for a preschool that we can afford and that we like.  It’s a difficult balance.  We’re on a variety of lists for the “good” places.  We’ll see how it goes.  For now, I’m just going to keep on with our routine.  She’s happy, and I’m happy.  What else could matter?

Making deals with Buttercup has become quite a challenge lately.  When baby meltdown commences, I’ll tell her if she does what “Mommy says,” she’ll get a cookie.  Most of the time that works.  What I didn’t realize is that Buttercup has begun to use my tactics against me :)

We bought a jar of pickles the other day, those little delicious kosher dills.  I really like them, and so does Buttercup.  In fact, I think she likes them more than any of her other favorite foods.  I truly think she could have eaten the whole jar in one sitting.  However, I’d been fending her off by saying, “Just one more!’  That worked for day one.  By day two, Buttercup was saying, “One more, please!”  Oh, no.  It’s the please that kills me:  we’ve worked so long on saying please.  Now, when she does it, I have a hard time saying no.  Needless to say, the pickles are gone, and I’m not buying anymore for a while!

The parentals and Grandma brought me another set of Old British Castles.  Today, I had to wash them and find a place to put it all in the cabinets.  This involved archiving other china and rearranging extensively.  At first, the project appeared to be impossible.  All I could envision was Buttercup chucking china all over the kitchen floor.  It actually worked out really well.

She got a huge kick out of matching up all the bowls, sandwich plates, and dinner plates with each other.  She was very gentle.  The set came with an adorable set of “fruit saucers.”  They’re small and dainty bowls.  Buttercup is crazy about them and declared them to be, “Mine!”  I think they’re just perfect for her, too.  She can have her raisins, cereal, cottage cheese, and all that jazz in those little bowls.

What surprised me was how well she handled it all.  Her fine motor skills have kicked it up to a new level.  She slowly eased the bowls into each other and gently stacked the plates.  She’s become such a big girl, and it still surprises me daily.

Yesterday, Buttercup was a on a tear of funny things to say.  All day long, it was one thing after another.  We were in the backyard in the afternoon, and she had on her heart sunglasses.
“Are you a cool cat, Buttercup?”  I was teasing her, and she looked over her shoulder, just as saucy as she could be.
“Meow, meow!”  Oh, she made me laugh.

Later, she started insisting there were elephants in the basement.  She threw up her little arm, like she does to make an elephant trunk.  I asked her what elephants were doing in the basement, she paused, looked up at the sky, and definitively announced, “Hiding!”  I told my dad about it later, and he laughed, because last week he had said in front of her, “That’s as likely as elephants in the basement.”  She’s a riot, this one.  I can’t believe the imagination, the memory, and the sense of humor my little toddler’s talking has brought to light.

Yesterday, Buttercup was running around the house saying, “I wish, I wish, I wish.”  It was terribly sweet.  Our conversations have been getting more detailed, and I love that.  Every morning when we wake up, I ask her what she dreamed.
“High!”
“You dreamed you were up high?”
“Mmhmm.”
“What were you doing up high?’  She looks up at the light fixture.
“Light!”
“You were up high as the light?”
“Yeah!”  She turns around to see where the dog is and points at her.  “Woof, woof.”
“Gladys was up high as the light too?”
“Yeah!  Glady too!”

With every step forward she takes with her speech, I find it all gets a little bit easier.  Nothing pleases her as much as being engaged in conversation.  When the Grannies come over, Buttercup sits at the table with them eating her lunch, telling them what she wants on her sandwich.
“Turkey.  Ham too!” 

I was listening to her while she pushed JoJo, her doll, in the swing.  She was speaking for herself and JoJo, carrying on a whole conversation.
Buttercup:  Otay!  One, two, three!”
JoJo:  Up high!  Trees!”
Buttercup:  Otay!  High!  One, two, three….!”

I love to watch her play with her dolls, loading them up into the playpen, taking them out and putting them into the stroller, tearing around the house, coming back and dumping them back in the playpen so the other dolls can have a ride.  She’s very busy, so many babies for her to take care of… :)

“If You Were My Bunny” by Kate McMullan is one of my all time favorite children’s books.  Little Buttercup and I read it right before bedtime.  It’s a mix of poems and reworded classic lullabies, and it’s just fabulous.  I cannot remember who got this for us but thank you!  It starts out like so:

“If you were my bunny
and I were your mama,
I’d pick you out from all the other bunnies
and nestle you beside me…”

We read the first part, and then it goes into that Mama Bunny’s song, which kills me.  One of the reasons is that Buttercup has learned to sing along.  She sings the last word in each line.

“Hush, little cottontail, don’t you hop.
Mama’s gonna bring you a carrot top.
If that carrot top should wilt,
Mama’s going to bring you a clover quilt.
If that clover’s buzzing with a bee,
Mama’s going to bring you some dandelion tea…”  Buttercup sings so softly, and I slow down at the end so she can say, hop, top wilt, quilt, bee, and tea.  She loves it, smiles so shyly.  I think she’s proud of herself.

It’s so funny how much Buttercup mimics me.  The other day, I was calling across the house for Daddy.  I said, “Honey!”  Buttercup stood up, leaned forward, and screamed, “Hoooooooonnneyy!” at the top of her lungs.  I have to be so careful now, she’s vocal.  There are several words that sound remarkably profane, and every time she says them, I cringe.

Beach:  This sounds like the obvious.
Shoes:  For some reason, a hard consonant has come into play at the end of this, and it really does sound like that s-word.
Duck:  There was a while there were the d-sound didn’t quite make it into that word.  God help me.

What makes this all the more painful is that Buttercup finds a word and delights in it over a period of days.  So, one week it’s “UCK!  UCK,” in front of the grandparents.  Odd little moment there.  “She’s saying duck,” I elaborated carefully.

Her two biggest phrases are, “Okay, Mommy!”  and “Me too!”  She really likes saying “too.”
“You want to go to the store, baby?”
“Daddy too?”

It’s made things easier in a lot of ways, her speech explosion.  I can understand so much more of what she wants, because she can tell me.

Potty training Buttercup has been the easiest thing in the world so far.  After so many challenges, this is simple.  She’s basically done it herself.

Since she was about 20 months, I started sitting her on her potty once or twice a week.  Once she did something, I praised her to the high heavens.  I didn’t really pursue it until her second birthday.  After that, I just took her diaper off and put the potty chair out.  She’s barely had any accidents.  She meanders over to her potty, does what she has to do, and applauds herself when she is done :)

Here’s what helped us:

Potty Chair w/out Lid:  The lid scared her.  It continually fell forward and hit her in the back.
Reward:  Buttercup loves strawberries w/a passion.  Every time she goes in the potty, she gets half a strawberry :)  Bribery or reward?  You decide.  It worked for us.
Big Girl Panties:  We went to the store, and I let pick out her favorite selections.

There are few other things we’ve done that have helped.  I decided a while back, I’m not training her in front of other people.  When we have company, the diaper goes back on.  She got really upset when she had an accident in front of the Grannies, and I decided it was a no-go. 

In terms of “making it to the potty,” I’m gradually moving the potty further and further away from the room we are in.  At first, of course, we were attached to that potty chair at the hip.  Now, we’re almost to keeping it in the bathroom, no matter where we are in the house.

As for outings, same thing as company, until she’s fully potty trained, I’m not going to take her out without a diaper on.  I don’t want her to feel ashamed or embarrassed.  Potty training really has to be super positive.

Something to note:  I have heard it’s a LOT harder to potty train a little boy, and every child is different.  With Buttercup, she was ready.  I would not let anyone push you into potty-training before you or little one is ready.  Same goes for too late, I’m not on the mommy-train that says mommies who potty train early are bad.

Finally, as my boss says, “It’s proactive, not reactive!”  Sit little one on the potty after they’ve had a big drink or you know they have to go.  So, we’re doing well so far.  She can even get up in the middle of the night and use her potty.  We’ve had a couple accidents, but so far it’s been smooth sailing.  Thank God.

Buttercup was head-over-heels far more capable than other little ones her age group from the time she was 1 to about 1 1/2.  She was in the 90th percentile for her height and weight.  The little imp was able to do just about anything that most of the little ones her age could not do.  She always had control of herself.  Buttercup never rolled out of bed, hardly ever fell down.  On the playground, she had mastered some of the play equipment before children twice her age could.  It’s who she is, enormously physically capable.  So obviously, I could let Buttercup play on the more expansive equipment where the other toddlers couldn’t.  Of course, I always had two hands ready to catch her, if she did fall.  It’s part of a mommy’s job, to anticipate disaster.

On the other hand, she was slow to become an avid talker, especially in front of people.  She’s our first baby, and I think that’s relatively common.  Anyway, we talked to our pediatrician about it, and he looked at me like I was nuts and told me she was right on track.  But, nevertheless, I got enormously jigged up about it because of people pressuring her to talk.  The pressure made it worse, and Buttercup began absolutely clamming up in front of other people.  In private, she would talk to me and Daddy, saying her words bravely, brightly.  All the same, I continually got the, “Why isn’t she talking more?” thing, always right in front of Buttercup, who understood exactly what they were saying.

Now, she’s in the 75 percentile for her height and weight.  It all slowed down, that massive leap in strength and physicality.  She’s gotten braver with her talking, and she’ll tell you all about it.  My theory is simply that her early growth spurt led her to just be massively more interested in the way the physical world works, less in communicating.

Buttercup has long amused me by practicing her facial expressions in the mirror.  Well, she still does it.  Vain as a peacock, this one.  She holds her baby dolls in her arms, rocks them in the mirror, watching herself with a pleased smile.

It’s terribly cute, and she loves it when I walk her past the mirror, “Who’s the most beautiful girl in the world?”
“ME,” she roars it out triumphantly.

I think the mirror has taught the little imp how to be even more cute, because she’s gotten ten times more adorable over the past week or two.  Her little face pouts, smiles fetchingly - and she just looks generally like a little girl who knows how to get her way.  It’s remarkable.

Along the coming of the most horrible word in the world, “MINE,” she’s also been saying please.  It comes out like this, “Peas.”  It breaks my heart apart.  I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to say no to “peas.”