Every week, every day, every moment, it seems like she is doing something new, something impressive, something cuter than oughtta be allowed, something sweet, or something beautiful that I never want to forget. And I am so afraid that I am going to forget all of these little things that make me ridiculous and happy and cause me to call her daddy on the phone every five seconds.
This morning, before I left for work, she slung her arm around me, patted my back - just like we were a couple of old dudes at the Elks Lodge - and she says, "Home? You an me?" And then she went back to "brushing" her teeth, where brushing equals sucking all the water out of the bristles. And she says bristles, by the way. Bristles and paste, man. That's all she needs. She even mimics how her daddy spits into the sink afterwards, and then she requests a "dink of water."
When K first woke up this particular morning, after greeting me with smiles and a sleepy "mornin," we had to go from window to window to find "HORSE!"
While looking through the dining room window, we did not find "HORSE!", but we did find "CAT!" Charlie (named for his black, Charlie Chaplin mustache) and Moe were horsing around in the driveway, so I asked the baby, "How many cats do you see?" And she says, all confidence and smiles, "two." Brilliant? I think yes.
She is such a good, sweet baby. She thrives on her schedule and knows what's coming next. On the way home yesterday evening, she asks me from the backseat, "Baff? (bath) Me an you?" She knows that, when we get home, we'll take a bath and get ready for bed. We spent the rest of the car ride home singing. She just sang a bunch of mumbled jumbo, and when the singing stopped on the radio and the talking started, she would start singing "Happy Birthday." Only, she sings this: "happy day...happy day...happy day...."
In honor of the last post, which circled around wild hogs and hunting, I should share what my baby thinks pigs "do." If you point to a picture of a cute little pink piggy and ask, "What's this?" she says "pig." Then, ask her what the pig SAYS. Several weeks ago, she would have tried her hardest to make a snorting sound. Now? She grins, tugs on her earlobe, and SQUEALS! Can you believe that mess? Daddy has taught her well. Can't wait to see what her future little people school teacher thinks when they review animal sounds, and she is the only one that thinks pigs squeal from hog dogs instead of just saying "oink." Then again, she will most likely be surrounded by other country babes, so perhaps she WON'T be the only one!
She never ceases to surprise me, either. A weekend or two ago - man, time is FLYING!! - we went to the local cowboy church, because she was getting her first belt buckle for the play day rodeo series they just finished sponsoring. I know you're wondering what in the WORLD could she have done in the way of a rodeo to win a buckle? Well, they had three events and had to participate in at least three rodeos from the series. She did stick horse barrels, boot racing, and goat tag pulling. Of course, with all these tiny people running around, standing in stunned wonder, and sitting down in the deep dirt, the mamas and daddies looked like Jell-O herders. It's incredibly entertaining. All the babes got buckles for this age group.
I wasn't sure she'd participate or enjoy it, but she did! She wasn't intimated by the arena, the deep dirt, the lights, the other kids, the goat, or anything! So I guess I should have been prepared for her to do splendidly at the buckle ceremony, which she did, but I never thought she would sit on the steps of the church with a crowd of kids, all ages, long enough to have her picture taken.
But she did! Dad just sat her down, and she spent the time looking above her, behind her, to her right, and to her left...just quietly checking everything out, with her hands folded in her wee lap!
Most nights these days, K is putting herself to sleep in her crib. No more rocking to sleep at night for this mama.
The nights when I do still get to rock her to sleep - when she's so super sleepy - I hang on way too tight and way too long!
On the nights when she puts herself to sleep, I tell her it's "night-night time" and that Mama loves her, Daddy loves her, and Jesus loves her. Then, we put her down, kiss her forehead, and tell her good-night and "love you" once more. She always whispers back "ni-night." The whisper is over the top dramatic, and it takes all of my self-control not to laugh or smile before I'm out of the room.
She's so used to the who-loves-her-litany that she fills it all in herself now:
Me: "Night-night, Katie."
Me: "Yes, Mama loves you."
Me: "Yes, Dad loves you."
Me: "Yes, baby, Jesus loves you."
During bath time several nights ago, K started splashing up a storm, sending waterfalls over the side of the tub and rivulets around the base of the toilet. Dad just happened to be in the room, too, and he told Katie, "Looks like we're gonna need to use the shower curtain to keep all your water in the tub." And then he pulled it closed, and she went on splashing.
Ever since, if she gets it in her mind to do a little splishity-splashin', she'll tell me: "Curkain, Mama. Curkain." So I close the curtain for her, and away she goes!
I guess it's obvious from this scroll that I am completely smitten with this baby girl. No wonder mamas and daddies keep havin' babies...I feel like I've finally been let in on the secret....