my little trend-setter

Bridget's quickly becoming a trend-setter. I can just see it now: the latest buzz-word that's storming the nation, popping out of mouths everywhere, all started by an almost (in two days) twenty-month-old girl: Not.

Huh? Yes, Bridget's latest favorite word is not. She says a million things by now—I can't keep up and she surprises me every day—but what I hear most often lately, whether she's playing and in a good mood or just plain cranky and uncooperative, is not. And the context she uses it in is just so funny that even if she's made herself go limp and is on the floor trying to throw a mini-fit, I can't help but at least giggle and smile inwardly. Bridget's past her first no phase—she never really used it correctly, anyway, because she didn't know the word yes yet and would answer no to every question—and has decided that not is the appropriate word to use in situations that would normally require no. So: "Bridget, let's go change your diaper."

"Not!" as she walks the other way and continues to play.

Or in the car: "Bridget, how old are you?"

"Not!" as my tired, cranky girl struggles against the five-point harness in her car seat.

"Come on, Bridget, how old are you? What's your name?"

"Not, mommy!" in her most insistent tone. (This is when I stop teasing her just for the sake of hearing her say not.)

Like I said, trend-setter. Buzz-word. Not.

what a weekend

Our whirlwind weekend has come to an end. And what a weekend it was.

I've already mentioned that we were out of town at my Large MidWestern State University for my preliminary oral exam for my PhD (the step before writing the dissertation, the only thing I have left to do—well, besides defend the thing and file bunches of paperwork and pay bunches of money—before graduating for the last time in my life). It's a 600 mile trip, and as I mentioned on facebook, it's a lot longer trip with a 19-month old (20 months the end of this week!) in the car. But all in all, Bridget did wonderfully for spending approximately 26 hours on the road between Thursday morning and Saturday night. But, to my chagrin, we are no longer a Barney-free household.

Thursday's trip went fairly well. It took us approximately 11.5 hours to reach our destination, and that included two hour-long stops. But by the time we headed two hours north to visit some friends after my exam, Bridget had had it. The last hour was painful for all of us: Bridget spent the time screaming and pushing against her restraints, Al spent the time driving (and toward the end, telling Bridget impatiently to be quiet), and I spent the time trying (and failing) to get some rest. Our time with our friends Stephanie and Lee more than made up for it, though. Bridget loved Lee and spent most of the time taking turns banging on his RockStar drum set with him. My only regret about that part of the trip is that we couldn't spend another day and night—we would have all loved the time out of the car and visiting/playing with friends! (Another time.) But since we did have to get back so that Al could work on Sunday, Al and I made what I deem a very wise decision: we stopped at Target before we left town, bought a portable DVD player (I already have one, but haven't been able to find the charger/power cord for several months), and—gasp—some Barney DVDs.

Now, don't get me wrong. Now that I'm older and not in my late teens (which I was when Barney came out), I don't find Barney nearly as annoying as I did previously. And my daughter loves him. But she loves, loves, loves the Wiggles, and I would have much rather preferred their DVDs to Barney. But those DVDs are not in abundance at Target like Barney's are. Maybe it's the Australian thing—I don't know. But somehow, over the past five days, we have now accumulated five Barney DVDs and one CD—and only one Wiggles DVD, which I bought yesterday to provide some more balance to my life. And somehow over the past two weeks, my daughter has become a television addict like her daddy, always asking for Wiggles or Barney. And I really, really don't like Barney's closing song to every single episode: "I love you, you love me, we're a happy family..." Sigh...at least it's not The Elephant Show. I would put my foot down for that one.

Oh, yeah—back to the weekend—we basically spent about 10 of the 12 hour drive home watching Barney DVDs and arrived home—with an extra dog (my sister's) in tow—around 11pm EDT. Thank God for that extra hour Saturday night (and the safe trip home). We needed it!

easy-peasy

We took a family road trip yesterday and wound up in the middle of nowhere. On purpose, of course, because that's where the school that I'm getting my PhD is located. Actually, there's a lot more in here-nowhere than a lot of other nowheres, but I digress. The point is, we're out of town.

Our hotel room is great, and one I'll definitely come back to when I defend (the step after actually writing my dissertation, which is next) and graduate (May, I hope). It's a decently-priced residential suite hotel, which means each room has its own kitchenette (a place to keep Bridget's milk), a couch, and bedroom(s) (our room is actually a studio, so we're sans the bedroom, but still nice and roomy). Plenty of room to set up Bridget's pack-n-play. Only last night, after lights out, Bridget decided she'd rather play or sleep with mommy and daddy (whichever we'd let her get away with) than stay in it. Within thirty seconds of climbing into bed, I heard a quiet thump. Is that? I thought, and listened for little footsteps. The carpeting's too thick for hearing baby footsteps, apparently, but Bridget's not that good at finding her way around in the dark in an unfamiliar room yet. Next thing I know, we hear her bump into something (gently) and kind-of whisper (like she was trying to sneak around but got a surprise). With a sense of amazement in his voice, Al said, "She climbed out!" We turned on the light and there she was, smiling and very proud of herself as she tried to run and play. Guess who slept in our bed last night? (I'm just hoping she doesn't figure out she can do the same thing in her crib...and if she does, it won't be our bed she ends up in. That's a rule I'm firm about: no kids in bed with me at home. It does mean that I end up spending a few nights on the couch with her, though....)