For Ainsley

As promised, a post loaded with pictures of Ainsley. (Recent pictures, no less...) This hodge podge collection captures a lot of Ainsley for me -- her likes, her habits, her personality. So in no particular order, here's a glimpse of sweet Ains.

Ainsley likes people, saying hello, hamming it up for the camera, and putting on socks. She is dead serious about sock wearing. She insists on putting them on all by herself most mornings.

Ainsley finally got enough hair over the summer to sprout pigtails, and she developed an intense curiosity to try out anything anyone else is doing (or eating -- but more on that later). Too bad her mean mama won't let her play with an expensive camera.

Ainsley does not like being left out. Fortunately, she has finally gotten old enough to be included on the Daddy-daughter Saturday excursions. They usually involve some amount of french fries, which Ainsley doesn't mind at all.

Ainsley loves her sister's shoes and clothes. Any pair of Afton's shoes is rather awesome to Ainsley, but she was particularly fond of Afton's jelly shoes from last summer. (We finally bought Ainsley a pair to end the shoe stealing madness, aka Afton's conniptions and Ainsley bouts of despair.) Afton's shorts and pajama bottoms are other favorites too. The best part is that Ainsley knows that this clothes and shoe stealing is a bit of a no-no (or at least it will provoke her older sister's ire). Occasionally in the morning, I'll find Ainsley lurking near Afton's drawer. Then she'll snatch a pair of shorts out of it and make off in a mad dash out the bedroom door. She rarely makes it much past the kitchen before Afton near tackles her in an attempt to reclaim the clothes (that Afton has no intention of wearing). But lately, Ainsley has had more success.

We should have known when Ainsley was just a few weeks old, and was best soothed to sleep by being worn in the Baby Bjorn carrier, that Ainsley was a huge fan of the human pillow. And lately, she much prefers the human pillow in the form of her father. This human-pillow love, I believe, is the reason she didn't sleep through the night on a regular basis until a month ago. (Why soothe yourself back to sleep when you can get your parents to snuggle you? And just for the record, we did the tough love/scream it out sleep-training thing four different times. She was untrainable.)

Ainsley loves to eat. When combined with her fear of missing out on anything, it means that if you are chewing in front of her, she'll pry your mouth open in an effort to get a bite. She is also a disaster when she eats. It's actually rather funny, but it means that I do a lot of stain removal. It also means that Ainsley is often not allowed to eat while wearing clothes. (It's easier to hose her down in the kitchen sink that way.)

And, just because the universe wanted to give me a break after 18 months of brushing Afton's teeth while performing wrestling moves on her and jamming the toothbrush in her mouth, sweet baby Ainsley loves to brush her teeth. (And again, for the record, we tried a number of different things to make teeth brushing fun for Afton, and she didn't buy any of them. She just needed to turn 3.) Ainsley also likes to brush other people's teeth and other people's hair. She combs (or at least tries to comb) Afton's hair every night before bed. One of her babysitters recently called her a "little mother."

And finally, despite all the squabbles, Ainsley seems to really like her big sister, whom she calls "Aa" (only the first phoneme -- no "fton"). Ainsley lights up when we pick up Afton from preschool or when we wake up Afton together in the mornings. She will usually give her a kiss goodnight.

A couple days after Ainsley was born, I noticed this strange phenomenon. I had lived 32 years of my life without Ainsley and didn't feel any less because of it. But as soon as she was born, it felt like she'd just always been there -- part of our family, part of my life -- and I couldn't imagine her not existing. Kids are a funny thing that way. Now I just can't wait for Ainsley to learn to talk more so the good times can really begin.

Life as #2

I've seen it happen in nearly every family album. Six thousand photos of the first kid. (Oh look, she twitched, how cute!) Maybe sixty of the second kid. And a whopping six of the third. Somehow, I thought with all the digital cameras and easy downloading of photos, that we wouldn't fall victim to that cycle. Alas, while perusing our scanty blog posts since our #2's birth, it's obvious that we're no exception to that rule. And to add to my guilt, over Thanksgiving, my parents mentioned on multiple occasions that they don't have any pictures of Ainsley. In our defense, many of our attempts to capture Ainsley on camera have turned out much like this...
or this...
or this...
and (my personal favorite) this...
In fact, most of our attempts to give Ainsley any kind of attention (whether captured on film or not), more or less turn out this way. Ainsley has only been alive 17 months, but she could already write a book about sibling rivalry. Or perhaps it could be a book about being the mellow yin to our #1's crazy yang.

At any rate, we love our Ains! She is so full of personality and she cracks us up on a regular basis. The next post, kiddo, will be all about you.

Miss Afton Goes to Preschool

Last week, Afton started preschool. She goes just two days a week, three hours each time. She was so excited. She loves her new backpack (pink princesses -- courtesy of a three-hour, frenzied shopping excursion by her mother two days before school started). Her teacher's name is Miss Jessica.

Given Afton's previous track record, I fully expected that she'd be introduced to this new social situation and have a panic attack, cling to me, avoid eye contact with anyone new, refuse to speak, and cry and cry and cry when we separated. However, she did absolutely none of that. At the open house, she was the kid who volunteered answers every time the teacher asked a question. When Tony took her on the first day, she cheerfully waved goodbye to me. When she walked into the school and left Tony behind, she was mildly confused and slightly worried. But otherwise fine.

Although Tony drops her off on his way to work, I get to pick her up. Our post-school conversations make me laugh at what in the world is going on in this classroom full of toddlers who are trying to get used to school for the very first time:

Me: How was school?

Afton: Good.

Me: What did you do?

Afton: We had snacks.

Me: What did you learn?

Afton: We got into a line. Our teacher gets nervous if we aren't in a line.

Me: What else did you do?

Afton: We ran around the classroom and our teacher got a little mad.

Me: Did you read stories?

Afton: Yeah. Miss Jenny wouldn't let me sit on the A. [The rug they use has the alphabet written around the edges. At the open house, Afton almost had a conniption when someone else half sat on the A.] Miss Jenny made me sit on the V. I don't like the V. I only like the A.

Me: V is a nice letter. It's on your Love pajamas.

Afton: No. I don't like V. A is in my name. I only like A.

Me: Did you go outside today?

Afton: No, we weren't good, so she wouldn't let us go outside.

Me: Did you learn any letters?

Afton: No.

Me: Did you learn any letters?

Afton: No.

Me: Did you learn any colors?

Afton: uh... red and blue and green and pink and yellow and orange.

And so it goes.

Ainsley turned 1!

(Almost two months ago...)

Yes, Ainsley turned one year old at the end of June. We skipped any and all party-esque things except the cake, the hat, and the presents. And the presents, other than those brought by her grandparents, were a result of a last-minute, right before dinner rush to Toys-R-Us. Ainsley responded like I suppose most one-year-old kids do: a mix of bewilderment and amusement.

As Ainsley rounds the corner past her first birthday, she is blowing away our prior understanding of genetics. This little half-Asian sensation has hazel eyes and light brown hair -- light brown hair that has gotten long enough to show us that it curls.

As they might say in Korea, shing-gi-ha-nay! (amazing). (When Tony did his latest round of questioning about paternity tests, I assured him that I have a couple uncles with some curl in their hair. Tony shook his head and said, "I never thought our kids would look like your uncle Gary.")

Ainsley is a fairly pleasant little girl. She likes people. She likes to laugh. She likes to give kisses: usually the big, open-mouth, slobbery variety. She likes dogs. (But I still refuse to get one.) And, as of late, she likes to walk. All by herself. Don't even think about taking her hand. It probably goes without saying that we love Ainsley very much.