On Sunday, January 15, we dedicated Sienna at our church. What this means is that we made a commitment to raise her in a Christian family, knowing and loving the Lord.
My grandmother insisted on buying her dedication dress, and because we were dedicating her to God, we thought the more gaudy the dress, the better. She was a pink poof ball. I loved it.
On our way to church, I tried to explain to Brae what it meant that we were dedicating Sienna to God.
Me: “God gave Sienna to us as a gift, and today, we are going to give her back to God.”
Brae: (Long pause). “Mommy, I want to go golfing.”
Good talk, Russ.
Unfortunately, none of the professional pictures turned out that great, due to lighting, so the only shots that we really got were from my sister’s camera (below).
Some other Sienna highlights:
— Girl weighs over 20 lbs. She’s in 12-18 month, oh heck, yes some 2T clothes.
— She has 7 teeth, and the 8th is bulging.
— She just (like this morning) learned how to get into a sitting position from lying down. She also just recently learned how to get from sitting to lying down. She’s rolling, rolling, rolling. She gets on all 4’s and rocks back and forth, and kind of crawls backward, but no forward motion yet.
— She’s eating solids (pureed), but no real solids yet. She can’t seem to yet figure out how to move the food from the front of her tongue to the back. So when I’ve tried to feed her solids, she tends to gag and puke up what she’s just eaten.
— Still the only person who can get her to belly laugh is her brother. Which is odd, because he likely poses the greatest threat to her safety. But, all he has to do is walk in the room, and she just lights up like a Christmas tree. She adores him.
Brae. Sigh. That boy. I know most parents say this, but our son really is very intelligent. He’s working on spelling out words when we read, he can count up to 50 (well, he could really go up to 100, but who has the time for that? ha ha!), and he can play Jedi Mind Control games on you.
A couple recent moments of fun:
The other day, Brae was downstairs going potty. (He has a different potty in the house that he prefers for different times of the day. The morning pee pee is downstairs). Anyway, I’m standing next to him, and he points to a small brown spot on the bathroom rug. “Mommy, that’s my poop,” he says. “Huh? Your poop?” “Yes, some of my poop fell there the other day.” “Oh, okay,” I say, “Thanks, I’ll put it in the washing machine.” “Yeah, but Mommy, don’t touch it. It’s icky. It’s for the dogs.”
(Apparently he remembers that both of our dogs fondly liked eating the others’ poop. Yummy.)
We went to the doctor’s on Friday. We were in the waiting room. They had a water cooler. Brae filled up a Dixie cup of water and proclaimed to the waiting room: “I am going to drink this water like a dog.” And then he placed the Dixie cup in the middle of the room, got on all fours, and lapped up the water like a dog.
A proud moment for me as a mother.
Last night, for the first time ever, I became a prop in one of Brae’s imaginations. I was sitting in Sienna’s room, watching her roll on the floor. Brae declared to me that he was going to cut my hair. So, he took blanket after blanket after blanket and draped them around me, around my neck, trying to tie them in the back, and preparing to cut my hair. And then he got the eraser from the chalkboard and pretended to shave my head.