Because not everybody has their own personal island…

On a whim we decided to visit a sea island off the coast of Florida – just a short drive from Jen’s house.  We had heard it was gorgeous, and it did not disappoint.  Miss Squiggles fell asleep on the drive to the beach, so she missed out on collecting beautiful shells by the ocean.  Tim stayed with her in the car while the rest of us went exploring.

When she did wake up, she was completely underwhelmed at the significance of being on Amelia Island.

But she loved the outdoor restaurant we visited for lunch, mostly because she got to sit between her cousin and Aunt Jen.

The rest of us enjoyed the palm tress and ocean view.

The fresh seafood was awesome as well, but we snarfed it down before I thought to take any pictures.  Highly recommended: Sliders Grill.

How about you, you, you?

Since we were in the neighborhood, we enjoyed the beautiful day by going to the Jacksonville Zoo. 

At first I was surprised that the zoo cost about twice as much as the New England Zoos.  But it turns out that the Jacksonville Zoo is about a hundred times better than ours, so it was worth it.

We started out with Squiggles in a stroller,

But she found this degrading and demanded to walk like a dignified human.

And eventually decided that she was big enough to be in charge of the stroller.

We saw lots of animals,

Relaxed a bit,

And took a ride on a red “choo choo.”

But the biggest hit of the day was the splash park.  We didn’t pack a swimsuit, so we let Squiggles run around in her onsie. She was in heaven.

We had one tired girl at the end of the day.

Georgia on my mind

We took a mini vacation to visit Tim’s sister Jen.  As soon as I looked out their back window of their beautiful home, I knew I was going to like Georgia.

And as soon as Squiggles saw the “Splash,” she wanted to stay forever. 

We spent a couple hours every day doing just that… a lot of it.  Miss Squiggles abandoned her cautious ways and kept jumping in the pool… regardless of whether anybody was prepared to catch her.  Luckily, we were never more than a couple inches away.

Squiggles is lucky to have awesome cousins on both sides of the family.  She adores Jen’s boys and follows them around squealing.

It took both me and Tim following her constantly to keep the girl from drowning - it turns out that pulling yourself in and out of a pool every five seconds requires an agility not compatible with being large with child and she insisted on going back and forth from the big pool to “another one pool” (the hot tub).  Crazy baby.

When we weren’t in the Splash, we enjoyed the warm sunshine by the poolside.  Mostly we enjoyed it by eating and such, but also by squirting each other.

Since arriving back home, Squiggles has asked to go to “Jen’s Pool” a finity times a day.

Public Service Announcement

I consider myself somewhat of an expert on graham crackers, partly because several years ago I listened to an NPR program  regarding the snack (named after the Presbyterian minister who invented them in the hopes that it would suppress carnal urges in youngers), and partly because I think I may hold the world record for graham crackers consumed by a single human.

I love them.

My sister-in-law Jill and I used to sit around her kitchen table eating graham crackers and milk while catching up on gossip, current events, and politics.  We would each have one or two.  Packages.

As a sickly preggo, I’ve abandoned most of the foods I love most due to my condition of despising nearly all organic matter; fortunately, graham crackers and milk are one of the few snacks that I can still genuinely enjoy – usually at 2:00 am when I’m up for my nighttime meal.

I have realized that not all graham crackers are the same.  This is a recent revelation.  Some go stale the moment they touch air, and some disintegrate on immediate contact with milk.   I think I’ve tested them all now, and the results are in:

Nabisco Honey Made Graham Crackers are by far the best with regard to taste, durability (you can sneeze comfortably while dipping without worry that you’ll end up with graham mush), and longevity – they come in very sturdy packaging that prevents the elements from prematurely aging the crackers.

Happy dipping.

Sunlight on our shoulders

Today marked the first post daylight-savings day of the year.  I think even Mother Nature hates the program – she celebrated its end by giving us a 73-degree afternoon.

Squiggles and I celebrated by taking a walk to our lake, an activity we both love.  I try to let her set the agenda on these outings.  I let her get as dirty as she likes (which is quite dirty) and be as brave as she wants.  Of course I’m close enough (and the water is shallow enough) to fish her out of the lake if needed. It is a perfect little ecosystem for her to explore both nature and her body’s abilities.

We spend a lot of time here, mostly throwing rocks in the water.  But sometimes we like to just have quiet moments and ponder our smallness in the universe.

I’d kill to know what she’s thinking about in the picture below:

Today we were here for so long that Squiggles started taking rocks from the water to throw back in the sand:

This led to another activity – perusing the shore, collecting special rocks, and putting them into discreet little piles here and there.

And then we got to just climbing rocks and exploring a bit.

Sometimes I feel a little sad that we’re having another baby because I know I won’t get to have as much leisurely one-on-one time with Squiggles.

When I told her it was time to go home, she very maturely said, “Buh-bye water, buh-bye rocks,” and ran to her stroller.  But we hadn’t gotten very far before she asked to go back. 

I told her we could go again tomorrow.

My two-year-old newborn (alternative title: A mother in denial)

Last night after we went to bed, I was watching Squiggles on the baby monitor. I started crying softly (as I am want to do several times a day), and said, “She still looks like  a tiny little baby, don’t you think?”  Tim was half asleep and said, “Yeah sometimes…”  I said, “Can you believe she turns two tomorrow?”  At which point Tim was fully awake and (almost) slightly emotional.  “No… I can’t,” he conceded.

She is still tiny, barely a couple pounds heavier than she was a year ago.  She still sucks her thumb and up until a few weeks ago was still nursing (yeah, I’m one of those).  She follows me everywhere and sobs if she thinks I’m cross with her.  She’s still my itsy-bitsy baby, right?

But there are signs that she is drifting away, gaining the defiant  autonomy that I desperately desire and despair, simultaneously.  The other day we were at a sandwich shop, and she kept trying to climb on the table (to better spy on the family just over the separating wall).  Tim kept telling her things like, “No arms on the table,” and “no feet on the table,” and “no legs on the table.”  Finally, she threw her arms backward, airplane style, and launched her belly onto the table with her legs reaching toward heaven – careful not to let any forbidden limbs make contact with the wooden surface.  Tim (usually a stickler for discipline) and I laughed so hard we almost cried as she concentrated very seriously on holding her pose.

Today I picked her up from preschool (ahem… daycare) and was trying to strap her into her carseat.  She was sucking her thumb, as usual, and would not release it so that I could get her arm through the strap.  “Hey Bug,”  I said, “You need to let me put your seatbelt on.” 

Without removing her thumb, she shook her head and calmly said, “No, Mama.”

“Just for a second, then you can suck your thumb again.”

More head shaking.

“Just let go for one second.”

At which point, she glared at me and partially removed her thumb just long enough to say, “Thumb stuck!”

Yes, my sweetest little love.  You are so little, just keep sucking that thumb and never, ever, ever grow up and leave me.