my little rainbow
Poor Iris is having her very first bout with the stomach flu. The worst things about it, aside from the obvious fact that my baby is miserable, are (a) my having to cancel watching baby Ingrid this morning, thus putting Jamie in a bind, and (b) my ruined, barf-covered formerly white Anthropologie bedspread.
While she sleeps, in the spirit of keeping things light so I don't cry, I decided to give a little air time to my precious Iris and her 14-month-old antics.
She has about 20 words now... everything from "duck" and "shoes" to "yeah" and "uh-oh!", but mostly she just screeches and/or bellows when she wants something. Her normal volume level is that of a freight train and is probably loud enough to wake the dead so like the well-trained Iris servants we are, we all come running when she calls. Sometimes "we all" includes neighbors or people living in the next zip code.
She sits with her ankles crossed and loves jewelry. But given the choice she'll play with cars or dinosaurs over dolls. And she'll beat you down if you enter her personal space bubble uninvited.
She eats everything. She eats all day long. When she is done eating, she says and signs "All Done," and then proceeds to grab food off of her plate (or mine) and stuff it in her mouth frantically while I'm taking her out of her chair. When I try to put her back in her chair to eat more, she cries and signs "All Done" again. It's like the poor thing knows she could spend a lifetime in her booster seat if she doesn't just decide to take a break from time to time.
I also periodically find her munching on stray Cheerios or graham cracker crumbs that she has dug out of the carpet or out from under the couch. (My house is messy. Don't act appalled, like you didn't already know that.)
Her favorite thing to do is wait for Ocean to put down whatever toy he's playing with, snatch it up and go running across the room with it, laughing hysterically while he screams, "No Iris! I don't want to share!" as he cries and chases her down.
She loves dogs. LOVES them. And she can spot them from a mile away. We were in Target the other day and she kept saying, "Dog! Dog!" and pointing. I finally looked at where she was pointing and there was an average-sized poster in the photo department with a small puppy on it. It's like she's got puppy-dar.
Yesterday she woke up from her nap crying and when I went in to her I said, "Awwww, Iris, are you screaming your head off in here?" She looked at me inquisitively, shook her head no and patted the top of her head as if to say, "No, mommy. My head is still attached. See?"
The girl can sing. She hums The Barney Song, on key. Sometimes I swear I even hear a little vibrato. She also likes to dance, walk backwards, and spin until she falls down or crashes into the wall.
She can recognize the letter X. And she says it when we get to that part of the ABC song. It sounds like "ak".
When I correct Ocean, I ask him to say "Yes, Mommy" so I know he heard what I said. Now when I correct Iris she has begun saying her version of "Yes, Mommy," completely unprompted. It sounds like, "Mama-ya." And she nods her head.
With all the potty-related praise we've been doling out to Ocean, Iris has become interested in sitting on the potty, fully clothed. She likes to grunt and then smile.
She gives kisses freely. "Mah!"
I love this little gal. She is a firecracker and a troublemaker, a fighter and a peacemaker, a lady and a brute. Life is much more chaotic, frenzied and spontaneous now that she's here. And of course we're a better family for it.
When she's not vomiting she's really quite delightful.