Month: February 2013

Happy Birthday, First Child!

She’s two, and she liked her birthday cupcake. We’re having a real birthday party this Sunday.

The little head wiggle totally killed me.

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Checking In

If you don’t already know, we’re having another kid. Chilkoot’s due date is July 18th. I hope it doesn’t kill me.

Aside from that, here’s about six weeks of pictures (we haven’t been taking as many, and I tried to be pretty choosy, so there’s not all that much):

Aside from the regular photo update, Chilkat’s imagination is growing (hence my last post). She plays a lot. She’s definitely in her terrible twos. She has recently stepped up the tantrum intensity. Saturday after visiting the zoo while KrisDi was out, she behaved worse than I have ever seen her before. I think she might have been miserable from two year molars coming in, but who knows. She might have just been bitchy. She scared the False Alarm family away. Last Wednesday and Thursday I stayed home with her while she was sick. She had a cough and she kept getting spikes of fever (she went from normal to 102ยบ in 15 minutes). We both survived.

Her second birthday is coming up. There’s not much to say about that, I suppose. We’re trying to figure out an appropriate gift for her.

She developing fixations. She’s been obsessed with Minnie lately. Yesterday morning I had a bit of a fight with her about whether or not she was going to remove her dirty Minnie shirt and replace it with a clean non-Minnie shirt. I won, but by strength of arm, not strength of will.

We’re starting to change the guest room into Chilkat’s room/guest room. We bought a low queen sized bedframe that doesn’t require a boxspring, so now the bed is low enough for her to get into and out of, but it’s still a queen, so we can have Chilkat stay with us while guests stay in her room. I manhandled several hundred pounds of furniture down the stairs and into the truck, and discovered that Goodwill won’t take a boxspring. So if you or anyone you know needs a queen sized boxspring, let me know.

We visited Mom and Grandma for Grandma’s 96th birthday, and I had the excitement of witnessing firsthand the depth of her senility for the first time. She was very distressed, and she was convinced that I was not really her grandson. She had decided that my other Grandma had one day left me and my brothers with her and Grandpa for caretaking, because our father was abusive (there are many holes in this plot). Apparently this meant that we (or I) weren’t Mom’s kids. But she was adamant that she really wanted me to be hers.

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