Little Abbey is a couple days past 23 months. By tradition, it is the last time she will be so many months of age when asked how old. For the next year, she will simply be two, perhaps two and a half if we stretch it. I suspect the reason is mostly due to the poor math skills of adults and how long it would take us to figure how old a child is if they were 57 months old. It is way easier to just say almost 5 years old. Everyone knows how old almost five is.
The past couple weeks have been great for Little Abbey. Grandma from the Philippines has been spoiling her rotten and it shows. When at the daycare, she got diapers rashes now and then. Nothing that was bad but it always seemed like we had to be on top of it to prevent them from getting to the painful stage, which is no fun. With my MIL, she hasn't had one rash. So I suspect with a house full of other children, Little Abbey doesn't get changed quite so often. I don't really blame Mrs. Z but just know that it is the fact of life that when you have seven kids, each one doesn't get as much attention as one child by itself. I'm hoping that by the end of my MIL's stay, Little Abbey will be well on her way to being potty trained. She is showing signs by letting us know immediately AFTER she has done something and even tells us what she has done. We are working on trying to get to the next stage where she lets us know BEFORE.
Every month seems to be so much different from the last as far as personality and character goes. I don't know how to describe it other than she is just so full of personality now, that what she was like at six months seems like a shell devoid of most life. Yet back then, comparing six months to four months was the same way. I find myself quite enthralled with this progression and marvel at the miracle of human life and how we develop. Although I have experienced it with my own childhood, this is the first time I have witnessed it.
We have officially phased into spelling words in our house, as Little Abbey understands more than we would sometimes like. She loves baths so much that a mere mention of the words makes all her clothes come off and she streaks off to the bathroom. At that time you have two choices, give her a bath or undergo a huge temper tantrum. Same way with the words "lets go" meaning we are going somewhere. If you aren't ready within thirty seconds after saying those words, another tantrum ensues because you were two slow. Bear is another word.
Bear is a small bear shaped blanket with a stuff bear head at the appropriate spot made out of this really silky thread material to simulate actual bear fur. My mom made it as a present for her and she has become attached to it. I've trained Little Abbey that she must leave it at home whenever we go somewhere but at home she more than likely has it close by. At night, she has to have it to go to bed. Just a few nights ago, Bear had to be washed and due to other things, hadn't yet been tossed in the dryer by the time Little Abbey was in bed. I told my wife that she is just going to have to cry it out tonight and perhaps wean herself from bear but after ten minutes of listening to her scream and sob the name Bear over and over, I gave in. I grabbed bear out of the washing machine still damp but not wringing wet and gave it to her. Within minutes she was asleep and I went in and removed it from her bed. As Geri said on her blog not to long ago, you have to pick and choose your battles.
Little Abbey really loves her plastic push scooters that she has in our house and regularly rolls around on them. So when I got to thinking about her upcoming 2nd birthday, I knew exactly what I wanted to get her. I bought a retro Roadmaster dual decked red metal tricycle. It came last week in a box and has been sitting unopened in the great room. I'm going through the internal battle now of should I put it together and give it to her early or wait for one more month. She is still too young to grasp what a birthday means and this is probably the last year for that. So giving it to her early probably won't mean a thing to her and allow her to ride it in the nice spring weather before it gets too hot. But yet part of me, a very small part, thinks I should wait. I've waited a week already simply because I haven't had the time and this weekend is not looking good for time either. I don't know what will happen when I do get an hour to spare.