Thursday, November 21, 2013

The Gift of Grace

Gracie. Gray-bo. Gray. Baby G. Grace-a. Gracie-Grace. Gracellina. Gracer (that's Grandma's). Gracie Girl (GG). Grace Robin. GRD (pronounced GERD). Graceland. Grace Face. Jacie (that's hers).

"Jacie's! Jacie's juice! Jacie's bear! Jacie's mommy!"


Sweet baby girl, Grace. Feisty, sassy, smart, twirly whirly, Curious George loving, binky obsessed, Gracie.

"GEORGE!" She sits on the couch and screams at the blank television screen, willing him to appear. When he doesn't, she yells it louder and tries harder with her tiny mouth to pronounce the word correctly; perhaps mommy didn't understand the first five times she said it. "GEORGE... Mummy, mummy? GEORGE!"

She was so tiny, so wobbly-footed, just... ah, was that just a year ago? With her first taste of cake, it seems, a new burst of Grace Face.

Pre first cake ever: "Hey, what's this 'chocolate' business all about?"

Post first cake ever (her bfriend Matthew is clearly thinking,
"I'm intrigued and bewildered and certainly a little embarrassed for her... but I still love this girl!")

She'll attack you with her love, hugging you to the floor, kissing you with wide open mouthed tonguey (yes I said that) kisses that go on far too long (and that). You hold her and she squeezes you  tightly. You kiss her, she stares straight into your eyes and kisses right back.

When I hold her, I inhale her.

(I think Daddy would have to agree.)

(and Uncle Scott)

(And Grandpa)

(And Grandpa)

(And Noah)

All those boys. Wait, but where's a picture of Uncle Paul loving Grace? Huh...

Oh, here's one of Paul sitting next to me when I was outrageously pregnant with Gracie. Pretty much the same level of adorable and at least as touching as the above photos.

She's developed a very efficient language of many two word phrases that more than gets her by each day.

"Next chu" = I want my little body to be sitting on the chair next to you or right up on your lap. Now, please.
"Up high" = I know I need to try and resist grabbing for my binkie to the best of my abilities, so in order for me to successfully do this, please put my binkie up high so that I cannot see it and therefore stop craving it.
"No sleep!" = I see you, mommy and/or daddy, resting your head on the back of that chair. I see your eyes half closed after a long day. I'm here to tell you that you will NOT be resting as long as I am anywhere near you.
"Hold You" = Hold me
"Hug You" = Hug me
"Help You" = (You get the idea)
"Right back" = Usually said 30 times an evening as she slips out of the very adult chair she "sits in" at the dinner table, as she refuses to use a high chair ever again.
"Two books" = I'm just going to get it out there right now, before we start reading, you are not going to get away with reading only one book. There will be multiple books read to me at this time.
"Little more" = I loved that cake and would really appreciate a second helping.
"Noah Noah" = I need my brother. Where is he?

She is fiercely attached to Noah. We arrive to pick him up at school and she screams into his classroom, "Hi Noah! Hiiiii Noooooah!" She sees his lunchbox sitting off to the side out of his reach and yells "Noah BACKPACK!" in fear that he may miss it and leave it behind.

Sometimes, she gets so excited about a thought that she talks more quickly than she can find words and instead her lips just move really fast with the sounds of the words trailing several beats behind.

She can sit sweetly with a brush and (try to) gently brush my hair, but then hurl herself off the couch, screaming with joy, following up with a somersault (surface does not matter; kitchen floor seems to work). She'll sit silently in her car seat on a drive, quietly sucking her binkie, but you better not stop at a red light because she will immediately demand, "Go! Go! Go!" She looks a bit younger than she is, I've been told, her face the same baby face as she has always had, cheeks a bit smaller, hair only one soft layer. And yet she believes herself to be far older. Ask her how old she is now and she comes up with the same answer each time... "Four".

She stores binkies in secret places, it seems; you remove one and another appears as if out of thin air.

She loves baby dolls and truck books, shopping with her *own* grocery cart, everything about shoes (she will bring each of us our shoes when leaving the house), coloring (on paper, walls, important bills), doggies (from a distance, unless they're stuffed). She loves books, especially when she's sitting "next chu" and you are both "cozy" (she says that, I love it).

She gets mistaken for a boy (because of her hair), but oh, she is my little girl.
wearing one of my own baby dresses

Her eyes don't rest until she is sleeping (and even then, the slightest noise snaps them open), and they explore the world, measuring its meaning in her mind.

Am I being obnoxious yet? Probably adding another video is too much.

November 19th, Full Moon. She's two.

She really doesn't understand what a birthday is all about yet. (Why on earth the all-of-a-sudden presents and this cake? Why am I blowing at fire? I like the birthday song, but why is my name being inserted now?) I bought her a book, "Happy Birthday, Bunny," which in a very sweet way attempts to explain to the little birthday bunny why the festivities, why all the noise? She asks questions and gets answers along the way, but near the end, the little one asks the question that sinks my heart and resonates through this week of Grace.

"What do you mean that time just flies?"

I love you, baby G, my super Gracie Robin girl. Happy Birthday.

P.S. Just kidding, Paul. I did find this.