It's breakin' my heart, baby!

That's my sweetheart.  She is the most precious sweetie in the world.  And she would never do anything wrong, right?  I.wish.

Alice has developed a new habit: dropping food off her tray.  She drops food off her tray with great intention, grabbing a piece of cheese in her fist, stretching out her arm past the little tray, opening that hand, and letting the cheese faaaall to the floor.  One piece after the other.  We have worked on this food-wasting, disobedient habit, but not much has come of it. I'll sit with her as she stretches out her arm, about to do the dirty deed, and take her wrist, saying "No," then bring her hand back to the tray.  There came a day when I could see it in her eyes -- something clicked.  I said, "No," and Alice stared at me, then shook her head.  "That's right, no-no.  Don't drop your food, Alice.  Keep it here, on your tray."

Since this recognition of "no," Alice has decided to test the power of this word.  Does mom really mean it? She repeats the food-dropping ritual, and I repeat the "no" ritual -- and it has become just that: a ritual!  I knew the day would come and I was dreading it... today happened to be the day that "no" was not enough.

Alice had a tray full of sweet potato chunks smothered in coconut oil.  After a few bites, she decided that dropping them would be more fun.  The ritual ensued and I took her wrist, put it back to the tray, told her no, and offered up the food to her lips.  She shook her head.  Then she eyed me with those knowing eyes, reached out her arm, I gave a "No, Alice," and just as she opened her hand to let that little potato drop, I hit her hand.  It was really more of a firm tap, but it was enough to send the message.  She looked confused and brought her hand up and looked at it, then looked at me.  She didn't look sad, but her eyes were watery -- she was one confused baby and I was one crushed mommy.  Before my heart burst into a million pieces, I brought her face to my lips, kissed her forehead, and said, "I love you."  I took another piece of sweet potato and asked if she was all done.  Her confusion disappeared and she ate the potato, then signed that she was all done.

It was only a few seconds of a first and most mild discipline, and it took seconds for Alice to move on.  She got the picture, didn't drop her food, and was done.  But, my goodness, talk about the worst.

I know that enforcing our words and protecting Alice is one of the most profound ways to show Alice we love her, but that doesn't make it any easier.  Seeing her obey her parents in the Lord will be the greatest reward.

Love you, babsies!  Quit dropping your food, mmkay?

Alice is a super hero(-ine)!

As I sat Alice on the floor of her room tonight, surrounded by many books and a few scattered toys, I wondered how many times I'd be able to blink before she dove into playing while I collected and put away her things.  Like every day, Alice had made sure to play the part of a small tornado during her "room time," leaving me to make it like new before putting her to bed.  But the little baby surprised me.

I picked up her books, stacking them in front of me, narrating to her as I went.  "And then we take the books from all around and we put them in a pile and we rest them on the shelf." She watched intently.  Her eyes went from the books, to my hands, to the shelf.  I had almost gotten all of the books when Alice began looking on either side of her -- her eyes landed on a toy.  It was a big toy, too heavy for her to carry, but she tried very hard to pick it up.  I assumed she wanted to play with it, but pretended she had intentions of cleaning and said, "Thank you!" as I put it away.  Her chubby face held its thoughtful expression, and she looked around some more. This time, her eyes landed on her socks that she had yanked off earlier.  With her two tiny hands, she fisted the socks up, leaned forward, and dropped them in my hands.  I suppose my heart has become far too melatable because, in that instant, it turned to mush.  First, I was amazed that her little one-year-old mind could catch on so quickly.  Second, I couldn't get over how sweet her desires were to be a part of whatever it was mommy was doing.

After I said "thank you" more times than necessary, with more enthusiasm than necessary, we called Daddy in and showed him Alice's new skill.  Then we all clapped (Alice, too, of course) and smiled soooo big and said "yaaaay" for soooo long.  Everyday is a party in one-year-old land!  It's a good land.

Alice and I have a chat

Alice is sitting on my lap, having just nursed.

"Alice," I ask, "do you want some more?"  She looks at me for a few seconds, clearly in thought, then shakes her head "no."  Doubtful that her head-shake is anything but a coincidence, I ask, "Okay, are you all done?"  Alice smiles and confirms her head-shake by waving her hand in the motion that means "all done."  "Okay!  Do you want to go nigh-nigh now, or do you want to get down and play?"  She gives a little jerk of excitement and says, "DAH!" while turning away, ready to get down.

And that was the longest conversation I've had with Alice.

P.S.  For those of you wondering why I bothered to ask if she'd rather go to bed or play, it's not uncommon for her choice to be "nigh-nigh." :)