In the good old summer time

We've finally started having colder temperatures and the leaves are changing color. I, for one, have been looking forward to the change. Other than the fact that the only shoes that still really fit on my swollen feet are the summer-loving flip-flops, I welcome the cold weather. It's that much more comfortable for me, and it's a change I knew would have to take place before this baby would come. So it makes it all seem closer.

Ellie, on the other hand, sometimes misses the summer weather, I think. She would live outdoors if we let her. She doesn't quite get the reasoning that it's too cold, too wet, or too dark in response to her numerous requests to go outside. I have been pretty out of commission with this pregnancy, so haven't been able to do as much with Ellie as I would have liked this summer. But I think she still had a good time.



She lived for "swimming," which was really anything she got to put her swimming suit on for.


This included anything from running through the sprinkler, to playing in the sidewalk fountain downtown, to actually getting in a swimming pool (where she was fearless to both our delight and trepidation).


Unfortunately, these are the only "swimming" pictures I got this summer.

She also enjoyed an anual trip to the zoo with some cousins.

She wore that clashing hat and sunglasses almost the entire time like a good little tourist.


She found her "Ellie-phant." Not sure how much we should really push that joke, but she likes it for now.

I love how in this video she is simultaneously delighted and terrified by the goats.

I notice at one point she says "horsie." Perhaps we need to be a little more proactive in her farm animal education

So Ellie did have a good summer. I can see why she misses it. She still gets her outside time. During the last good rainstorm Brady took her "puddle whomping." You could hear her yells of "Wha-hoo!" all over the neighborhood every time she got a good splash. Brady has promised pictures of Ellie dressed in the froggie raincoat and boots the very next time we get a rainstorm (one of my many frustrations for not being up for tagging along on some of their outings). By the end , Ellie decided she wanted to sit in the puddles, though, so I don't think she has gotten over our broad use of the term "swimming" yet.

Ellie's Wisdom

As the countdown for this pregnancy slowly winds down, it's a comfort to me every once in a while to see just how grown-up and independent Ellie is becoming. People are always telling us that we will be amazed at how big Ellie will seem when the new baby arrives. But as I look back at her growth and progress from the time we found out Baby Brother was coming last spring to now, I am already amazed.

Tonight she surprised me with her self- sufficiency once again. There are several things that I keep thinking I need to work on with Ellie and never seem to remember to do on a consistent basis. One is drinking from a regular cup (as opposed to a sippy cup). Whenever she is offered a small cup of water at nursery, she first dumps the contents on herself, then puts it up the her mouth. So some weeks she comes home from church pretty soaked. Tonight at dinner she grabbed my mostly empty cup of water and took several moderated sips. No big deal. Just did it. Drinking problem resolved (though probably still in need of good supervision). Evoking less pride but probably just as big of a milestone was her mastery of the ice cream cone last month.

A few weeks ago I heard her wake in the middle of the night with blood-curdling screams. Since I can barely get her in and out of the crib at this point of my pregnancy, I was feeling pretty useless and was about to wake Brady when she suddenly stopped and started talking. Over the baby monitor I heard:

"Okay, okay, Ellie-belly. Okay, Bo Bear. . . blanket. Okay, Mommy, Daddy. Grandma. Okay. [yawning] Go night-night, Ellie-belly. Okay, okay . . . Go to sleep Ellie." It was quiet for a few minutes, then a murmured, "Ice cream, Ellie-belly," as she drifted back to sleep.

The kid talked herself down from a nightmare. (She has also taken to calling herself "Ellie-belly" lately.) I don't know that I have the skills to talk myself down from such extreme anxiety, and here my almost-two-year-old calmly got herself back to sleep.

A few days later she was standing on a chair, playing at the kitchen table. I told her to be careful because the way the chair was tilted she might fall down. Her response was a matter-of-fact, "Ashes, ashes, we all fall down, Mommy." It would have seemed like talking back if she hadn't said it in such a profound way. Indeed we do all fall down, Ellie. I guess she is learning a thing or two at nursery after all.