Photo taken by my mom

Annalie is frowning because we asked her to smile. Right after this picture was taken, she cracked up because she’d done the opposite of what we asked. I think the joke’s on her because it’s an adorable photo anyway.

When we were at my Aunt Janet & Uncle Larry’s house, Annalie kept calling Janet “Grandma” and Larry “Grandpa.” Larry said, “Eh, she just sees an old guy with gray hair and thinks, That must be a grandpa!” Then he told us how one of my cousin’s kids used to call him Grandpa too, and it bugged my cousin so he would tell his daughter, “That’s not your grandpa, that’s Uncle Larry!” So she started calling him “Uncle Grandpa.” Then we blew Annalie’s mind by telling her that Janet and Larry ARE a grandma and grandpa, and that their twelve grandkids are her second cousins, most of whom she knows well and plays with every time we’re in Omaha.

I asked Annalie if she wanted crunchy or smooth peanut butter on her sandwich. She put her hand out, palm down, and moved it back and forth in a continuous motion as though she were running her hand along the surface of a table and said, “Smoooooooth, please!” I found that hilarious because I talk with lots of gestures. That’s the first time I’ve seen her use such a classic one, though.

This morning while we were lounging in our pajamas and watching Zoboomafoo, I mentioned to my mom that we should try to hit Target to get Annalie some more pants. When I packed to come here, I could only pack two pairs of long pants for Annalie because she outgrew all her other pairs over the summer. I told Annalie the only solution was for her to stop growing. Without taking her eyes from TV she said, “Mama, don’t you want me to grow up and have even better manners?”

When we left the house this afternoon to head to my cousin’s house, it was snowing. Not the fun kind that comes down in big fat flakes good for snowballs and snowmen, but the kind that comes down in tiny hard pellets and barely accumulates at all. Annalie was still very excited that it was snowing. As we drove down the expressway she watched the snow and exclaimed, “I just love winter!”

As we drove along we talked about how November is technically still fall, even though in Nebraska it feels like winter sometimes; and how you can look for other clues to see what time of year it is, like Halloween pumpkins or Christmas decorations. We talked about how the weather in Nebraska can be unpredictable. I explained that if something is unpredictable you don’t know what’s going to happen next. Annalie replied, “So, if I don’t know what’s going to happen it’s unpredictable, and then when I know it’s predictable!” I’m not sure but that might have been the first time I’ve heard her reason out a new word and its definition.

At dinner this evening Rachel mentioned that while cleaning her basement recently she came across her set of Little House books by Laura Ingalls Wilder. That led to me mentioning that HalfPintIngalls has a twitter account.

Annalie seems to still be on Pacific time. Our first night here she was up till nearly 1am. Last night she was obviously tired and in bed at 8:30, but didn’t give in to sleep till 11:30pm. (But then she slept till 9am which she NEVER does. Silver lining!) For those keeping score at home, tonight she was out at 10:50. If the trend continues, tomorrow she’ll fall asleep right around 10. By the time we go home she’ll be on Central time and then our problem will be keeping her up past 6pm.

I’ve taken tons of photos but have not downloaded them yet. I’m lazy, I’m busy, I don’t have my laptop, the only computer in the house is in the room where Annalie is spending hours each evening going to sleep.

There is leftover Godfather’s Pizza in the fridge, and some yummy dessert pizza too. I know what I’m eating for breakfast!

We were all rather loopy and snappish by the time we got to Omaha at 9 o’clock this evening. Annalie and I just spent three full days driving halfway across the country with my parents, and this was my view for much of the time. Well, Annalie wasn’t watching movies the WHOLE time. She actually shut the DVD player a lot and colored or played with toys or told stories to herself or just watched the scenery. What she didn’t do was nap. I napped more than she did. I whiled away the daylight hours in the not-nearly-as-spacious-as-our-minivan’s backseat, crocheting or reading or playing with Annalie. Once it got dark I drove, since my mom doesn’t like driving at night and my dad’s night vision isn’t what it used to be. We had one small collision with what we think was a blown tire—it was dark, I was driving, we saw nothing till we drove over it, bumper was dented, otherwise no harm done—but no other incidents.

It’s 12:43am and Annalie is lying in bed behind me quacking. Now she’s asking me if I like her quacking. When I shushed her and told her to close her eyes, she said conversationally, “Mama, I hate you.” I told her that was not a very kind thing to say, and she immediately said in the exact same tone of voice, “Mama, I like you a lot.”

I think I’d better go to bed so she’ll go to sleep.

P.S. It’s now 12:48. As I was typing that last paragraph Annalie said, “Mama, I think while I’m waiting for you to come to bed I’ll just close my eyes and have a little nap, okay?” Suuuure, you go ahead and take an 8-hour nap, kid. She’s asleep now.

We gave Annalie her first taste of mashed banana the day she turned six months old. She sucked on the spoon, looked at us with an expression that said, “You mean that stuff you guys have been putting in your mouths all this time tastes like THIS and you haven’t been sharing!?” then grabbed the spoon from me and tried to shove the whole thing into her mouth.

I know that with babies you’re supposed to only offer them one food at a time to make sure they aren’t allergic to anything, and I sort of did that at first. Then I got lazy and bored and before long Annalie was happily eating a decent array of fruits, vegetables, grains, and even meat. She often ate whatever we were eating, mashed up.

Once when Annalie was about eight months old and we were eating at Wild Noodles, Troy had an enchilada dish that was rather spicy. Annalie ignored her Cheerios and kept trying to grab food from his dish. We told her it was hot and she wouldn’t like it. Then we gave her a little bite, expecting her to make funny faces. Instead, she smacked her lips and opened her mouth for more. In her first year of life she also regularly ate pieces of tofu from my hot-and-sour soup, and enjoyed sucking on dill pickles.

As I was unpacking bags and putting groceries away one day when Annalie was about 18 months old, she suddenly started saying, “Ba-COB-ba-cob, ba-COB-ba-cob!” and pointing at something on the counter. We tried to figure out what she wanted—sippy cup? goldfish crackers?—and finally realized she was pointing at the box of store-brand zip-lock bags. I asked if she was pointing at the bags, and she shook her head, pointed again, and said more urgently, “Mama, BA.COB.BA.COB.”

That’s when we noticed the picture on the front of the box: a zip-lock bag with pieces of broccoli in it. I tentatively asked, “Broccoli?” and Annalie nodded her head and beamed. “You…want some broccoli for a snack?”

“Yesss! Ba-COB-ba-cob!”

We had always fed Annalie broccoli, but up to that point had no idea she loved it so much. I bemusedly microwaved a dish of frozen broccoli while Annalie danced around happily, singing, “Ba-COB-ba-cob, mmm-mmm-mmm!” Troy set her up in her chair at the table as I cut the broccoli into small pieces. She ate every last bite and asked for more. “Meeee ba-cob-ba-cob?” (She used to fuse “more” and “please” into one word which was so cute it killed us.)

Annalie has gotten a little pickier about food as a preschooler, but I think that probably has more to do with asserting control over her world than with how foods taste. Often when she refuses to eat something and we encourage her to take just one bite, she’ll do so reluctantly but then a smile will spread across her face and she’ll exclaim, “Hey, I do like it! It’s good!” And pickiness is relative. She still loves broccoli, green beans, chickpeas, rice and beans, chili, curry, tomato soup, meatballs, carrots, celery, boiled eggs, all kinds of yogurt, cheddar cheese, gouda cheese, parmesan cheese, mashed potatoes, and almost any kind of fruit. She’s been known to pass up ice cream and cake for blueberries, strawberries, and watermelon.

We went to Souplantation for dinner the other night and Annalie was walking down the salad bar saying things like, “Ooh, carrots! I better make sure I get lots of garbanzo beans. Can you help me get some peas and corn, please? Cucumbers, yum!” Then when we went to the soup bar, Annalie chose to try the Morroccan Garbanzo and Lentil Bean soup for the first time and loved it.

(Are you hating us and our vegetable-eating kid yet? Would it make you feel better if I told you that Annalie has always fought sleep and that putting her to bed still involves an elaborate ritual of bath, reading books, telling stories, prayers, singing songs, and rocking? It actually takes MUCH less time now to put her to bed than it used to. We used to spend the better part of two hours every night putting her back to bed over and over and over again. I can’t wait for her to really start reading, so I can tell her, “Here’s your flashlight. Read in bed till you fall asleep!”)

I am constantly amazed by her love of so many different kinds of foods, and I know what a blessing it is. I have friends who have to struggle at every meal to get their kids to eat. I have a lot of sympathy for them because I used to be one of those kids.

I was the pickiest eater imaginable as a kid. I didn’t like broccoli at all till I was in my 20s. When I was a kid I wanted to eat something besides iceberg lettuce and PB&Js and plain white rice and Cheerios. But many foods had a texture or smell or color that made me gag.

I outgrew my aversions and learned to love onions, cauliflower, butternut squash, marinara sauce, garlic, and all the hundreds of other flavors I couldn’t imagine life without now. At four and a half years old Annalie already likes all those foods. I remember mealtimes when I was a child often being a big struggle. With Annalie mealtimes are a genuine delight. For that, I humbly give thanks.