One of Nora’s new favorite games involves clothes pins. In Spain, most people live in apartments and almost no one has a clothes drier, so everyone dries their clothes by hanging them from their balcony, which is often overlooking an internal courtyard of the building, not the street. As a result, every Spanish house has a bag or basket of clothes pins on their balcony. The game involves her mother placing her on a window ledge to the balcony where we keep our clothes pin basket. Nora proceeds to pull clothes pins out of the basket and throw them on the floor, expecting her mother to pick them up. They have a great time playing this game.
At least she picks them up at the end with her telekinesis.
My long term readers will be pleased to notice that the little nubbin of cactus we tore off the original has grown and is producing flowers for the first time this year.
Somehow we already have a wardrobe full of infant clothes, the vast majority with an undeniable feminine theme. Marga handwashed the set that will probably be taken to the hospital to clothe our daughter for the first time. Here they are drying in the sun. They don’t actually have black stripes on them, those are [...]
Nora continues to look faaaa-bulous in all her new clothes. Today she hit a milestone: she had her first real laugh. She’s been smiling a lot more lately, but this was an actual “ha ha” giggle. Needless to say, her mother and I were overcome with joy. I think the reason that it’s so difficult [...]
Okay, Media. Let’s get one thing straight: The only time you should use the article “an” with the adjective “historic” is if you are not pronouncing the H in “historic” like some British people do. Think ‘enry ‘iggins. Got that, Media!!?!? If I ever see any of you that misuse this phrase crossing the street, [...]
She has a great follow-through, and I think I can almost understand her when you play her verbiage backwards, but aren’t you a little concerned about rewarding contrary behavior?
http://www.erik-rasmussen.com/ Erik R.
Much to her chagrin, I refuse to play this game with Nora. A couple times a day she leads me out onto the balcony and points up at the ledge for me to put her up there and play.
Maybe that’s the problem we’ve had in understanding her! We’re listening to her words forward!
I’m dreading holding my daughter’s hand while she gets a dental filling tomorrow. She, in her blissful naivety, is actually looking forward to going to the dentist.