Button Bum

I know, I know, I am a horrible blogger. I keep promising to post more stuff about my amazing daughter and then just don't. Sorry. One of these days you'll stop believing me when I say that I promise next month will be better. Chock full of annoying bragging and super cute pictures. And, yet, here it is: I promise that I will try harder next month. Instead of my maybe two posts, I'll aim for three. Heck, maybe even four! Until then, read my other blog on WTE.

Anyway, tonight, after a delicious dinner that Reuben and I made together, after Grandpa Jack and Grandma Lu went home, after a nice bottle of milk, and just before bed time, Olivia said "button". This is the first word she has ever said like this. By that, I mean "button" is the first kind of miscellaneous word that Olivia has added to her vocabulary. It isn't used to name a person or animal, describe a sensation, or answer a yes/no question, it is simply a word that names an object. She came across it by accident, I think. As Livi sat perched in the bay window behind Reuben, experimenting with putting various sounds together, she strung bu and ton together and Reuben said "Button? What button?". This prompted my brain to register that Olivia said a word, which automatically shifted me into Super Cheerleader Mode. "Button! You said 'button', Olivia! Good job! This is a button," grabbing her jacket and showing her its buttons. Olivia, of course, was delighted that her parents were once again behaving like monkeys, so she continued to say it. Like a million times. It was awesome.

Then, quite out of nowhere, she said "bum!" Already on a role with Button Cheerleading, I caught this word pretty quickly. I patted her on the butt and said "This is your bum! You sit on your bum, you fall on your bum, we clean your bum - bum!" Again, Olivia was in her glory, repeating the word "bum" over and over again.

Obviously, this was a very clever bedtime delay tactic. My daughter is no dummy. Once again, the nighttime victory goes to Olivia. I swear, one of these days, I will win a bedtime battle and get her to willingly fall asleep before 11:30pm. Button Bum or not.

Since we're on the topic of how my 18 month-old daughter is so good at kicking my ass, I'll tell you about how differently she behaves for Reuben than she does for me. An average day for me and Olivia goes something like this:

Me: Olivia, you pooped. Let's change your diaper.
Olivia: Pshaw, right, mom. I'm going to hide behind this curtain and scrabble away from you the second you try to pick me up.
Me: Come, on, Livi. You want to go play, don't you?
Olivia: (nods her head and then hides behind the curtain again)
Me: Livi, seriously. Diaper. Now.
Olivia: I'm going to scream and cry like you've invented a new and twisted form of torture the entire time you enforce your silly 'cleanliness rule' upon me. WAAAAAAAAH! (kicking, twisting, big, fat tears rolling down her cheeks and into her ears)

And that's just a diaper change. You should see what happens when I try to give her water instead of the million gallons of orange juice that she would prefer. I've never seen such a young child able to telegraph "F You" so well with her face. And bedtime? Don't even ask. All I'll say is this. The word "Mama" creates a totally different sensation when it's being sobbed in a beseeching tone by a toddler standing at the end of her crib, arms outstretched to me as I close the bedroom door. How do babies learn such psychological warfare???

But for Reuben, a day with Olivia goes more like this:

Me: Okay, Livi, mommy goes to work. I love you! Bye-bye...
Olivia: (holding my leg and sobbing, refuses to say goodbye)
Reuben: Oh, Livi. You and I are going to have so much fun. Come here, kid!
(I leave for work)
Olivia: ('sniff, sniff', wipes her eyes) Okay, Daddy, let's party! You know I only do that to mess with mommy, right? You're the best.
Reuben: Let's change your diaper, drink water instead of juice, and go to bed early.
Olivia: Yay!!! I love you, daddy!

I know you think I'm exagerating. But, rest assured, it really is that bad. Olivia takes after me in so many ways. Her amazing intelligence. Her extreme beauty. Her wacky sense of humor. Her insane ability to bust balls. At least I know what I'm in for when she's a teen. (gulp!)

(If you want to check out my other blog, click here.)