We woke to a winter wonderland this morning, the tree branches laced with snow.  The world is a quiet, brilliant white, and the birds and deer are feeding below (see the cardinal?).  Liliana and I sit by the window for a good twenty minutes, watching.  She names things: the snow, the deer, the chirp-chirps.  When the deer leave, she says, “Bye-bye.”

The window fogs up, and still, she’s attentive.

Some friends of ours gave her the Corolle baby, and another set of friends gave her a bright pink carriage stroller, so she coos to the baby and takes it for rides.  Most of her scolding has to do with “potty.”  Hmmm, I wonder why?

We dance to Regina Spektor’s “Fidelity” this morning, and she sings along, a half a beat behind.  [See the very first post of this blog on August 19 if you want to hear it.]  She strokes her baby’s head as she dances, and she brings it to me, saying, “Baby, baby.”  She wants me to hold it and kiss its face, just like I do to her.

Yesterday, I found my stash of rainforest puppets I had bought a long time ago at the Rainforest Cafe in the Mall of America for my high school students to use when they were teaching the elementary students (we often did things like this where my students would go teach at the elementary level).  Wow.  I forgot I had so many–a chameleon, a monkey, a boa constrictor, a monarch caterpillar, a monarch butterfly, a wild boar, and a lizard.  I put them downstairs in her playroom, and guess where we’ve trekked to every 15 minutes?  I might as well have them all upstairs!  She gets the biggest kick out of pushing her hand into the deep pockets and saying, “Rowr!” as she leans toward me, making the animal leap forward.

These are my days, filled with new and exciting things, because everything is new and exciting to her.

I wouldn’t miss it for the world, but I have to be honest.  I miss just sitting down to read a magazine.  I miss having several hours in the evening, just to read.  You’re probably thinking, “Well, you have the hours after she goes to bed, don’t you?”  Yes, I do, but I’m so tired, I’m practically snoozing myself, so to sit up and read, rather than talk to Dan, does not sound appealing.  I’m cutting my losses and moving on.  Besides, this won’t last forever.  And if it does, just don’t tell me.

When she wakes from her nap, we’ll put on her boots and coat and hat and mittens, and go for a walk in this white stuff.  She keeps saying “hot” when she points outside.  I fake-shiver and say “cold.”  Then she thinks it’s a joke, and we go back and forth.  She’ll learn what cold is.  Minus thirty cold.  In just a couple more months.