A Bug Blog Year

It was September 27 of last year when I first started this blog. So, it's been around for a year. I haven't posted every week. I stopped the Writers' Wednesday and Family on Friday posts back when transitions and computer woes made keeping up with three updates a week too much of a hassle.

I can say the blog is still alive, if for nothing else, to chronicle my daughter, the Bug. I guess it also keeps the Russian spam commenters busy. (You wouldn't believe the number of spam comments I get to delete _every_ day.) I know they're Russian because Blogger tells me which country each view originates from.

It's been a crazy year. Started out with me being a write-at-home dad, then Wifey and I needing to switch roles, my work requiring me to move to the opposite coast and spend five months away from my family, getting them moved out here and into a routine, and now they've been back on the west coast for over a month (shortly before my previous post in August) since we found out that Grandma has cancer. The good thing is that Wifey and the Bug can be there for Grandma and Granny (my mom) is there to help as well.

The Bug has improved greatly in her walking, climbing, and dexterity. She attacks every challenge of baby-proofing Grandma's house with an enthusiasm unknown to mankind. It's become safe enough that the Bug requires being chased around the couch until she's worn out enough to sleep through the night. Requires. You'd think multiple trips to the playground and beach walks would be enough.

Her vocabulary has been expanding as she examines one's mouth intensely to discern how one can create such clarity of sound. Her versions of what few words she likes become sing-song and surrounded with her own language that sounds like Hindi mixed with Korean.

Earlier today she off-handedly said, "all done." Her astonished mother called her out on it and sought confirmation. Apparently, once the Bug realized what she said she was stunned into a wide-eyed, slack-jaw stupor in her high-chair. Recovered, she spent much of her bath time rehearsing the phrase.

Now that a year has elapsed for this blog, feel free to peruse the archives for ones you may have missed or ones you'd like to have another look at.

Brushing Bug Teeth

I guess it was a few weeks ago now (around the time that the Bug's teeth came out like popcorn), that Wifey and I felt like it was time to get her first toothbrush.  The Bug agreed wholeheartedly.

What the Bug doesn't appreciate very much is taking the toothbrush away.  She'd brush for half an hour, if we'd let her.  We're left with either trading for something, or waiting for her to put it down so we can snatch it up without her looking.

The toothbrush has become a pacifier of sorts.  If it weren't a narrow spire of plastic perpetually protruding from a not-too-careful toddler's mouth, there'd be no problem letting her hold on to it all day.

Some credit may be due to the Very Berry toothpaste we got for her.  (Is she really brushing her teeth with sugar?)  Doesn't much matter, though.  We wouldn't want to discourage a good habit anyway.

Last week, Wifey and I were on the couch watching the Bug slow down on her evening play.  We mentioned something regarding it looking like time to grab her toothbrush.  As soon as she heard the word "toothbrush," the Bug stood up, laughing, and toddled her way to the bathroom as fast as I've ever seen her go, jibber-jabbing all the way.  She didn't even look back to see her mom and I saying through dropped jaws that we've reached the spelling stage.

To The Letter

Recognizing the the Bug loves to play with magnets, wifey and I decided to splurge on a two-buck set of her own (after a couple nice clay ones broke). The set is, or should I say, was, the English alphabet.

I almost managed to arrange three neat rows before tiny Bug hands raked through them with gusto. They make a satisfying crash of plastic on wood as surprisingly few wind up under the fridge. Since we have cats, retrieving toys from such dark, narrow passages never takes much time or trouble.

So well received were these magnetic letters, that other toys needed to be carried to the kitchen for joyous communion. Not all toys could make the grand opening, so the Bug thoughtfully organized a tour of several choice letters at a time.

Only so many letters can fit baby fists. What's a girl to do? Oh, right. A couple more letters can ride comfortably inside one's mouth.

Such letter carrying behavior adds an equally amusing and concerning element to her newfound habit of alternately waving her arms whilst making growly noises, much like a b-movie dinosaur might.

Remind me to write about her toothbrush next week.

Silly Sneezer

Excluding my sneezes, the Bug finds most sneezes amusing. Not fall-out-of-your-high-chair-with-half-a-noodle-coming-out-of-your-nose hilarity. But, worthy at the least of a smile and probably not to exceed a giggle with applause.

At some point recently, she made the connection between the phonetic spelling of a sneeze in her books and the actual percussive phenomenon. Now a certain amount of every play time involves fake sneezing. With a series of drawn out "aaaaaaaaaaaaaathu's" and appropriate responses.

However, I'm calling her first word, "uh oh." She knows it when she hears it, she says it quasi-appropriately, and I can't quite make heads or tails of the Hindi-esque babble she ordinarily runs with. (Or maybe it's Urdu... I would definitely need a different alphabet to spell it out.)

We have confirmed molar sightings. We're finding it rather hard to keep up with such things. The Bug has proven rather splendid at grinning and bearing it.