Friday, March 6, 2009

Things That Go Bump...

I'm a light sleeper. I wake up with the wind, cat fights, Danny's snores, my bladder and the occasional rumble of my tummy. I've been this way since college and motherhood hasn't lessened my nocturnal awareness. If it happens in or near our house at night, I know about it.

A few weeks ago, around midnight I was awakened to a cheerful voice in the darkness. I sat up and closed my eyes, all of my concentration focused on hearing the source of the talkative, upbeat sound. Finally, I got up and followed the conversation into Reagan's bedroom. Our little princess was in her usual slumbering pose--all four limbs spread out, no socks on, head back, snoring louder than her father across the hall.

I tiptoed around Reagan's domain in search of the now annoying and increasingly loud voice. I checked the bookshelves, the closet, the bed itself. (Todd was purring softly but he wasn't talking about photography. I'd finally been able to determine that the chipper voice was babbling on about picture taking). In the corner of Reagan's room loomed her toy box. I began to dig as quietly as one can through race cars, Thomas the train figures, a collection of old cellphones and a spinning top. I piled items on the floor until I realized it was the voice of Barbie that had disturbed my slumber. Reagan's grandparents gave her the pink Barbie camera I mentioned in an earlier post. Miss Legs herself was saying phrases like, "Smile for the camera! This one is for the yearbook! Can you make a funny face?"

No one had turned on the camera. She just decided to communicate with the other toys or something. Maybe the camera is really a portal into Barbie's world. I don't know. I do know that I could not shut it off (thanks Papa and Nai Nai) and I couldn't get it to stop talking! I set it up on the shelf, all alone, not touching anything and waited for it to turn off automatically. No such luck. I frantically tried to remove its batteries but that required a screwdriver and apparently I'd left mine in my other set of pajamas.

Finally, in an act of sleep-deprived desperation I put the camera on a shelf in the garage where I couldn't hear it from inside. The cats woke up and stared first at the camera and then at me as if to say, "What the..." but I left before they could finish the sentence.

Kissing Like a Princess

You know how Reagan likes to kiss. She bestows smooches like some people smile. She's pretty free and easy with her lips, I readily admit that. It's never really concerned me before because after all, she's 2.5 years old, positively adorable and has ceased that animal cracker drool she used to slop around when she gave out kisses. She's really not disgusting about it at all anymore. She's a pro.

Yesterday Reagan and I watched "Aladdin" which is one of my favorite Disney movies (I have maybe 10 favorite Disney movies; I'm a huge fan of the "old" ones). When Jasmine and Aladdin kissed, Reagan leaned forward for deep analysis. Then she announced that she wanted to kiss like a princess. She talked about that kiss for a good 10 minutes off and on as the rest of the story unfolded.

When Aladdin and Jasmine kissed again at the end of the movie, Reagan leaned toward me and whispered very solemnly, "Mommy, Reagan kiss my Judah like that." I said, "What?" So she repeated her declaration. I said, "Well, sweetie, Judah has to want to kiss you back and I don't see that happening any time soon. That kind of kissing is for grown ups." Reagan listened to me (or at least pretended to) and then she said, "Reagan kiss my Jackson like that." I couldn't help it. I laughed. "Reagan! Are you going to kiss both Jackson and Judah?! That's not going to fly with those boys. You'll have to pick one boy to kiss." Reagan sighed. Then she said, "I don't think so, Mommy. My Judah and my Jackson love Reagan."

We do not worry about Reagan's self confidence, in case you're wondering. I think I'll put "Aladdin" on the shelf for awhile.

Sunday, March 1, 2009

Say Cheese...

Reagan's daddy is really into photography and his daughter is a very willing model for him on a near daily basis. We knew she knew what went on for the subject of a photograph. She cheeses it up quite willingly. We didn't realize, however, that she's also been paying attention to the other side of the camera.

Tonight I was grant writing (so what else is new?) and Danny was folding clothes and doing chores around the house. Reagan flit between her parents, singing songs, riding in the laundry basket, eating an orange and generally being adorable.

At one point I saw Reagan pull Danny's tripod from the office closet but I thought nothing of it. She's played with it before.

Minutes later I heard my daughter chirp, "Say cheese, Mommy!" I turned around and she'd set up the tripod on her own. Perched on its top was her pink Barbie camera. Reagan was hunched down behind the tripod, eye squinted, finger posed over the "click" button.

Look out Ansel Adams.