Pyrobaby!

The MIL and I took Shake out to see her first fireworks show, tonight, and the girl made me the proudest mama ever. She sat so nicely watching the show and there was not one tear, shriek, wail or peep from her. There were a few exclamations of, “OOo-ooo-oooooo!” and her fingers did end up in her mouth while she clutched Blankee, but that was about it. She watched the entire show and was still smiling afterwards.

The child is going to be blowing things up in no time, I just know it. Perhaps I should really be worried, but at 10 months, her reaction gives me the warm fuzzies.

I’m still reaching for those elusive 120’s.

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Yeah, so, today was Shake ‘N’ Bake’s (and my) first experience with Gymboree and while the Shake had an absolute BLAST, I spent the time trying not to look like I was a’feared for my very life.

I’m socially inept, people. I’m paranoid when in a group of yuppie females who are all around my age. I don’t like clowns. And the Barnyesque music was the cherry on top of the sundae that was my own personal Hell for today.

After we’re done with the last two weeks that I paid for, I believe I shall find her somewhere else to play. A park, maybe. One without clowns. Those are free.

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And now for the meme! Tag, I’m it:

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I shouldn’t have looked.  The kid has more clothes than she’ll ever be able to wear.

Just for fun, I thought I’d post a video of Mr H playing with his beloved car.

I’m sitting here at my computer with the little girl playing happily on the floor beside me and out of nowhere, Windows tells me that it’s detected a new USB hardware device of an unknown type.

What the heck? I didn’t plug anything in…

I look over to my right and there, on the floor, is the girl with the end of my camera’s USB cord in her mouth. The other end was still plugged into the computer.

I wonder if she can store all my mp3s.

That’s the word of the day.

Shake ‘N’ Bake has been saying it for days but I mistook her Babyish for “Dad”.  She’s got “Dada” down pretty well and so whenever I heard “Dat” I would shake my head and tell her, “Dada’s at work.  I’m Mama.”

Today she sat on the floor shaking her little musical TV remote up and down repeating, “Dat! Dat! Dat!” and it dawned on me that it wasn’t “Dad” but “dance”.  Whenever music plays, Mr. H and I will clap and say, “Dance! Dance! Dance!” but it seems she’s associated the word with, “Play me some music, Woman!”

Here’s a chocolate-covered baby.

Listening to:  Beatles — I’ve Just Seen A Face

Granted I’m not putting us into the poor house, but The Child has a better wardrobe than I do. I absolutely adore the Urban Explorer and Little Lady lines from Old Navy. The colors don’t assault my senses and the patterns aren’t overly cartoonish. And don’t even get me started on Baby Gap. *squee!* I’ve never been so girly about shopping. Granted Shake’N'Bake could probably care less what she’s wearing as long as she’s comfortable and not freezing to death, so getting such adorable clothing is completely useless. The same goes for toys; am I buying them for her or am I really buying them for myself?

Here’s to hoping our next little one is on the pink team or else we’re going to go through this all over again with the boys’ collection.

We’ve cut our first tooth.