Renaming my children for the blogosphere

A few weeks ago, I called them the Handful and the Midget. From now on, they shall be known as BIG and BUSY. And while I'm on the subject, let me tell you about my girls.

BIG:
(formerly known as Handful)
She's 3.5 and cannot wait to turn 4. Sports a mop of curly blond hair, which we hope she'll keep (the blond as well as the curls), and very pale blue eyes. Last weighed in at 38 lb and 39" tall. Chatters constantly. Her latest pet phrase is "sooner or later". Likes to read -- and I don't just mean that she likes books, although she certainly does. She actually keeps mostly quiet during Busy's naptimeShe surprised the hell out me the other day while I was visiting this friend's blog; out of nowhere I hear her say "my life right now." I don't know how she got the word "right", except to assume that she got it from the context. (Any teachers reading this? Is that typical of her age? I kind of think not.)

But I was getting around to explaining the source of the nickname Big. This child is obsessed with being bigger. It seems that every other sentence begins with "When I'm big! big! big! bigger!, I will ..." And all kinds of ideas, from the sensible to the crazy-she-just-said-what!?, will follow. "When I'm bigger ... I will climb that big tree." or "... I will go in the street by myself." or "... I will learn how to jump rope." or "... I will like mashed potatoes." We also hear the Big theme in variations like "When I was a baby, X, ... but now that I am a big girl, Y"; or "When Busy is a big girl like me, she can Z, but now she's just a little baby so she can't do that!" When Big gets really excited and tries to delineate exactly when she'll be "this big", she starts to count "1, 2, 3, 4, ... 100!! When I am 100 old, then I can eat my ice cream for breakfast!" (For the record, she doesn't actually count to 100; she gets to 20, mumbles her way to 29, and then proclaims, 100!)

BUSY:
(formerly known as Midget)
I was about to call her Bitty because 1) it made a nice contrast with Big, and 2) she loves to play with Big's Bitty Baby doll. However, having just spent ~20 minutes carrying her around like deadweight on my arm, I can attest to the fact that there is very little "bitty" about her. So Busy it is. She's 13 months old; a delightful blond child with sparkling eyes (for this I've got a pic here). When Busy first learned to sit by herself, back when she was Bitty ( approx 6 months old), I was happy and relieved. Finally, we'd reached a stage where she could sit and happily play with a few toys, without me having to worry about her. Ha ha, wishful thinking! Two weeks later, Busy learned to crawl. Three months later (yes, at 9 months old) she started to walk. "Just trying to keep up with her Big Sister," everyone said. Thankfully I didn't know then the extent to which that was true, or else I'd have duct-taped her to the floor right then.

As befits a 1-yr-old, Busy spends the majority of her time getting into things. You know the drill: open every kitchen cabinet, take out all the food container lids and drool all over them, whine about the drawers/cabinets that mommy put the latches on, pull all the books out of the bookshelf, pick up every cheerio and cricket that she finds on the floor (the ChemMom's a bad housekeeper, btw), restack all the videos, etc etc etc. In the modern parenting paradigm, I suppose that is called "exploring her environment" and "learning about cause and effect."

Also, Busy climbs. She's a little monkey, that one is. (Big is a good teacher that way.) Started climbing up the slide on the Kangaroo Climber in our playroom about 3 months ago. Finally we got smart and put an old comforter down the inside as padding. Now Busy's latest trick is to stand on the little window and jump off. At least, that's what she's trying to do (just like Big Sister!), but Mommy is anxious and keeps whisking her off. Which Busy finds fun, so she climbs up the slide so we can do it again. I foresee a broken clavicle within a year.

I could go on, but I've stayed up too late as it is. Should probably quit referring to myself as ChemMom and just go with how I really feel, which is BEAT!