flannery commonplaces
"Mama, I'm playin' with fire!" as she throws newspapers into the fireplace under her papa's watchful eye.
She is also confused on pronoun usage and refers to herself as "you". So, a photo of myself and herself is a photo of "Mama and you."
We tried clearing this up for her and in the middle of explanations, she waved her hand for quiet and very confidently corrected us while pointing "Mama, Papa, You."
"Shhh. Baby's sleepin'. Mama, I said 'shh'." after closing the door on her, apparently, napping offspring.
"Please may I have more treats....RIGHT NOW!"
She is also confused on pronoun usage and refers to herself as "you". So, a photo of myself and herself is a photo of "Mama and you."
We tried clearing this up for her and in the middle of explanations, she waved her hand for quiet and very confidently corrected us while pointing "Mama, Papa, You."
"Shhh. Baby's sleepin'. Mama, I said 'shh'." after closing the door on her, apparently, napping offspring.
"Please may I have more treats....RIGHT NOW!"
And still, blogspot is against me. I can't post anymore pictures at the moment, but at least I got a few up.
Flannery is now officially potty-trained and moved out of her crib into a big girl bed. All the vestiges of babyhood are, one by one, being stored in the closet, lent out to someone else or taken to Goodwill. Her hair is getting long, she speaks in full sentences, 'cooks' her wooden vegetables and play dough and reads stories to me now. Wow.
But she still falls asleep in my arms from time to time before her nap.
Oh, and she will now watch a movie now - almost from beginning to end. Her favorite is Cars. I hear her talking to Mater in the living room "Oh, fanks Mater! Want more coffee?"
She has also renamed fingernails, "fingertails", which I think we will adopt.
Tata for now.
Flannery is now officially potty-trained and moved out of her crib into a big girl bed. All the vestiges of babyhood are, one by one, being stored in the closet, lent out to someone else or taken to Goodwill. Her hair is getting long, she speaks in full sentences, 'cooks' her wooden vegetables and play dough and reads stories to me now. Wow.
But she still falls asleep in my arms from time to time before her nap.
Oh, and she will now watch a movie now - almost from beginning to end. Her favorite is Cars. I hear her talking to Mater in the living room "Oh, fanks Mater! Want more coffee?"
She has also renamed fingernails, "fingertails", which I think we will adopt.
Tata for now.
hanna andersen glamour
pretty fingers
Grandma Carla painted her nails for her.
Finally outside!
Happy Birthdays . . .
For Flannery's Daddy-O on his . . . 70th . . . birthday!
The day she turned two. You can see that old age is making her more pensive and reflective.
Cupcakes with cream cheese frosting . . . in the middle. She blew the candles out without any help from Papa.
With Uncle Rusty and Ridley. Flannery is quick to tell me every night that "Riddey's bappized, Unca Rusty's bappized." Rusty is shown here reading to the children from one of Jim Henson's later works. Henson was an anarchoperiagrarianista writer whose five-volume set, "The Peacable Violence of Baptism" has been turned into a series of movies featuring marionette puppets - and despite what Rusty tells you, it's as ridiculous as it sounds.
This, of course, is Sharon, the font and source of Flannery's good looks and the repository of 98% of the good sense in the O'Donnell household.
observations
Flannery has begun the stage of imitation that promises to swiftly become embarrassing. We'll put the rosy in Uncle Gabriel and Auntie Kristen's cheeks first...
The background on this is that she's been at her aunt and uncle's house quite a bit lately.
So yesterday I was in the car with Flannery in her car seat behind me. She was jabbering and singing to herself and suddenly began having this little conversation with herself, "Uncle Gaber's at work." Pause. "Kristen! Kristen!" Loudly. Then, with a special lilt in her voice, "Hi honey!" A pause and then the distinctive sound of a kiss.
She believes everything too. Right now Brendan has caused her to think that a sunny day means that it's snowing outside. So, when the sun comes up she says, "Snowin' out. Sunshine." Due to the same source of creative license she also will insist that a donkey barks. Which is funny if you picture it.
Today she changed her baby cow's diaper - complete with wipes.
I'll get pics up soon but for some unknown reason we aren't being able to download them off of our camera.
Tata.
The background on this is that she's been at her aunt and uncle's house quite a bit lately.
So yesterday I was in the car with Flannery in her car seat behind me. She was jabbering and singing to herself and suddenly began having this little conversation with herself, "Uncle Gaber's at work." Pause. "Kristen! Kristen!" Loudly. Then, with a special lilt in her voice, "Hi honey!" A pause and then the distinctive sound of a kiss.
She believes everything too. Right now Brendan has caused her to think that a sunny day means that it's snowing outside. So, when the sun comes up she says, "Snowin' out. Sunshine." Due to the same source of creative license she also will insist that a donkey barks. Which is funny if you picture it.
Today she changed her baby cow's diaper - complete with wipes.
I'll get pics up soon but for some unknown reason we aren't being able to download them off of our camera.
Tata.
Merry Christmas from Flannery
Christmas, Anno Domini 2007
In between writing words and posting pictures on this post, Flannery is having me slingshot her froggies across the room. Her froggies are from a sack of gelatinous rubber toys she found in her stocking this morning. They were made in China out of lead paint and asbestos, but she loves them anyway. Thus far her favorite bit of swag . . . there might actually be a tie there -- it's either the chapstick I got her or the wooden "sliceable" fruit-and-vegetable set Sharon got her. Here, for her legions of adoring fans, are pictures from the past month, a few of which are from this morning. Flannery reports that she is deeply grateful for the Incarnation of the Son of God, this morning even more than the others.
Mayonnaise on your hot dog?
The other day as we were eating hot dogs, Brendan said to me, "Who taught you to put mayonnaise on your hot dogs?"
"Who neglected to teach you to PUT mayonnaise on your hot dogs?" I replied.
Flannery looked at Brendan and said, "Amen!"
"Who neglected to teach you to PUT mayonnaise on your hot dogs?" I replied.
Flannery looked at Brendan and said, "Amen!"
I walked into the room the other day to find this:
Then I saw this.
Flannery then cleared the plate as, apparently, Baby Mae had finished and tried to give her a drink of water.
But Baby Mae doesn't have opposable thumbs.
Then I saw this.Flannery then cleared the plate as, apparently, Baby Mae had finished and tried to give her a drink of water.
But Baby Mae doesn't have opposable thumbs.
So, since my last stories on Flannery we've accumulated a few more.
One day Flannery wandered into the bathroom and shut the door. Since the light was off I just waited a minute wondering what she'd do.
Nothing happened.
So, after a few minutes, I opened the door and went in.
She was waiting for me right on the other side of the door and as the door opened, she swept her arm out and said, "Come in!"
The mother-love in her continues to grow as well. Although it still shows signs of needing maturity.
The other day I was watching her kissing and rocking her baby and I commented to Brendan that it would be sweet if her behavior to her baby was any indication of how she saw us as parents.
As the words came out of my mouth, Flannery's "dowwy baby" went flying across the kitchen and smacked into the cabinets. Oh well.
One day Flannery wandered into the bathroom and shut the door. Since the light was off I just waited a minute wondering what she'd do.
Nothing happened.
So, after a few minutes, I opened the door and went in.
She was waiting for me right on the other side of the door and as the door opened, she swept her arm out and said, "Come in!"
The mother-love in her continues to grow as well. Although it still shows signs of needing maturity.
The other day I was watching her kissing and rocking her baby and I commented to Brendan that it would be sweet if her behavior to her baby was any indication of how she saw us as parents.
As the words came out of my mouth, Flannery's "dowwy baby" went flying across the kitchen and smacked into the cabinets. Oh well.
somethin' yucky!
Grandpa T and Flannery acknowledging something nasty.
walking with papa
these are from our trip to Virginia in October.
giving ME the "eye"
You know the "eye" that you give your kids when you "mean it"? Well, here's Flannery giving it right back to me.
For whatever reason, blogspot doesn't prefer that I post pictures tonight. So, I'll try to do more tomorrow night. For now I'll just tell stories on Flannery to satiate the grandparents.
The other day I was brushing my teeth in the bathroom and Flannery was standing on top of the toilet playing with Brendan's shaving brush and soap cup. Playing with soap got a little exciting and crazy and the soap cup fell on my baby toe. I yelped (It's still bruised) and knelt down to huff and puff over it. Flannery watched for a minute. Then, she put one arm around my neck, and with her other hand she lifted my face up and looked at me very intently. (To see if I was faking??!) After determining that I was in real pain she said, very articulately, "I'm sorry, Mama."
Singing is a new pastime as well. She goes around the house singing "Rock-abye-baby" which sounds like this, "Ock-a-baby...teetop" and "Happy Birthday" which comes out "Happy Day Go" Not sure why that one has a "go" in it.
In other news, she has also fallen deeply in love with her baby. She spends several minutes at a time kissing it and periodically nurses it.
Of course, sometimes I've been called upon to perform these motherly tasks as Flannery has quite busy days.
She also loves "cooking". This usually involves getting up on a chair to the table and mixing whatever ingredients she finds - generally cream and sugar. Vigorous stirring ensues until the bowl or cup gets some momentum of it's own and goes flying across the room.
I'm really trying to not be a freak about the messes but that one kind of caught me off guard.
Well, that's all for now. I'll try for more pictures tomorrow.
ShroneyO
The other day I was brushing my teeth in the bathroom and Flannery was standing on top of the toilet playing with Brendan's shaving brush and soap cup. Playing with soap got a little exciting and crazy and the soap cup fell on my baby toe. I yelped (It's still bruised) and knelt down to huff and puff over it. Flannery watched for a minute. Then, she put one arm around my neck, and with her other hand she lifted my face up and looked at me very intently. (To see if I was faking??!) After determining that I was in real pain she said, very articulately, "I'm sorry, Mama."
Singing is a new pastime as well. She goes around the house singing "Rock-abye-baby" which sounds like this, "Ock-a-baby...teetop" and "Happy Birthday" which comes out "Happy Day Go" Not sure why that one has a "go" in it.
In other news, she has also fallen deeply in love with her baby. She spends several minutes at a time kissing it and periodically nurses it.
Of course, sometimes I've been called upon to perform these motherly tasks as Flannery has quite busy days.
She also loves "cooking". This usually involves getting up on a chair to the table and mixing whatever ingredients she finds - generally cream and sugar. Vigorous stirring ensues until the bowl or cup gets some momentum of it's own and goes flying across the room.
I'm really trying to not be a freak about the messes but that one kind of caught me off guard.
Well, that's all for now. I'll try for more pictures tomorrow.
ShroneyO
Have you sat on your roof today?
Brendan couldn't pass this up.
Columbia River Lookout in September
It's been awhile, hasn't it?
So we're gonna drop a knock-out sequence on you to make up for it:
28 July, Anno Domini 2007
In New England, and in Santa Cruz, California, I became acquainted with the "trust-fund kid" -- the snotnosed brat who never grew up, but only got bigger, and who had access to a vast ocean of family wealth with which to finance their various vaporous endeavors.
Today, Sharon and I realized that what we have might be called the "emergency-fund kid" -- the tow-headed little dandelion who hasn't grown up, but is getting bigger, and whose various vaporous endeavors are cleaned up by the family emergency fund.
It began when Sharon and I, trying to get a few more minutes sleep, unleashed her on the house unsupervised, thinking that all valuable and breakable items had been put up safely out of her reach. We heard various sounds -- wipes being pulled from the container, books coming off her shelf, her dresser drawers opening -- all of which were lawful, if not edifying. Then she appeared at Sharon's bedside with the cellphone. Oh! one thing we had forgotten. Good thing she likes to bring the contraband to us. But everything else -- computer, camera, stereo, insulin -- all remained out of reach.
Then Sharon heard snapping. She sat up in bed. "Flannery, bring it to Mama." The little trinitarian stomped into our bedroom carrying Sharon's glasses in not one, not two, but three pieces. Sharp inhalation. So much for catching a few more winks. I set to work at the coffee table with the glasses and an eyeglass screwdriver. Doodle had bent the frames to get one lens out, and I applied a ginger touch to bend it back in place, when the temple snapped off.
So, although she didn't technically get them to the point of no return, I think it safe to say that Flannery broke her first expensive thing. Off to Shopko for new glasses, to the tune of 150 clams. Yes, we paid in clams, which are legal tender in the State of Washington. But first, we had to buy the clams -- but that's another story, and Sharon wants to tell it herself sometime.
So, we got back home, and it was lunchtime. Sharon gave the little one lunch, while I set to frying a pair of Nathan's hot dogs -- the original and still the best. Sharon's head hurt from all the clam-shucking, and she went and lay down. Flannery, meanwhile, was covered in ketchup, and was requesting that I get her out of her seat. She stood up in her chair, and I wiped her grubby little mitts with a rag. I turned my back for one second, in which time I heard a thud. Flannery had fallen face-first onto the linoleum floor, and was shrieking. Her lip and nose flowed with blood, and she refused to be comforted for quite some time. Uncle Gabriel came over and checked her out, good EMT that he is, and we determined that she didn't require hospitalization or any such thing, but also that she needed watching, forehead hitting the floor and all.
So, she napped on Mama, and afterwards she was as wierd and goofy as every. She woke both of us up from our midsummer afternoon naps, and she availed herself of every opportunity to harass my toes. So, all you worrying grandparents out there, don't worry, she's fine. But she did say "Send money to Mama and Papa." And it was sooooo cute when she said it.
Thus the day; though it is also to be noted that for supper, she took handfuls of guacamole and squeezed it through her fingers, licking it out of her knuckles. Delicious.
Today, Sharon and I realized that what we have might be called the "emergency-fund kid" -- the tow-headed little dandelion who hasn't grown up, but is getting bigger, and whose various vaporous endeavors are cleaned up by the family emergency fund.
It began when Sharon and I, trying to get a few more minutes sleep, unleashed her on the house unsupervised, thinking that all valuable and breakable items had been put up safely out of her reach. We heard various sounds -- wipes being pulled from the container, books coming off her shelf, her dresser drawers opening -- all of which were lawful, if not edifying. Then she appeared at Sharon's bedside with the cellphone. Oh! one thing we had forgotten. Good thing she likes to bring the contraband to us. But everything else -- computer, camera, stereo, insulin -- all remained out of reach.
Then Sharon heard snapping. She sat up in bed. "Flannery, bring it to Mama." The little trinitarian stomped into our bedroom carrying Sharon's glasses in not one, not two, but three pieces. Sharp inhalation. So much for catching a few more winks. I set to work at the coffee table with the glasses and an eyeglass screwdriver. Doodle had bent the frames to get one lens out, and I applied a ginger touch to bend it back in place, when the temple snapped off.
So, although she didn't technically get them to the point of no return, I think it safe to say that Flannery broke her first expensive thing. Off to Shopko for new glasses, to the tune of 150 clams. Yes, we paid in clams, which are legal tender in the State of Washington. But first, we had to buy the clams -- but that's another story, and Sharon wants to tell it herself sometime.
So, we got back home, and it was lunchtime. Sharon gave the little one lunch, while I set to frying a pair of Nathan's hot dogs -- the original and still the best. Sharon's head hurt from all the clam-shucking, and she went and lay down. Flannery, meanwhile, was covered in ketchup, and was requesting that I get her out of her seat. She stood up in her chair, and I wiped her grubby little mitts with a rag. I turned my back for one second, in which time I heard a thud. Flannery had fallen face-first onto the linoleum floor, and was shrieking. Her lip and nose flowed with blood, and she refused to be comforted for quite some time. Uncle Gabriel came over and checked her out, good EMT that he is, and we determined that she didn't require hospitalization or any such thing, but also that she needed watching, forehead hitting the floor and all.
So, she napped on Mama, and afterwards she was as wierd and goofy as every. She woke both of us up from our midsummer afternoon naps, and she availed herself of every opportunity to harass my toes. So, all you worrying grandparents out there, don't worry, she's fine. But she did say "Send money to Mama and Papa." And it was sooooo cute when she said it.
Thus the day; though it is also to be noted that for supper, she took handfuls of guacamole and squeezed it through her fingers, licking it out of her knuckles. Delicious.