'Hey, I'm still in here!'

You hear that? That muffled yell? I hear it. Oh, boy, do I hear it.
It's the sound of snubbed Child #2 giving me a big ol' dressing-down for neglecting to blog about him (I still think it's a boy) or to blog about Anni's pregnancy.
Oh, there he goes again:
"Hey, Pops, I get it, you didn't want to start another blog dedicated to me. But how about you at least give me a little pub on the big sis' blog? I'm starting to feel like the third or fourth child, not the second!"
OK, OK, message received, so here's an update on what's going on:
Anni's 5 months pregnant, 20 weeks to be exact. We know this because she saw her baby doc today for her monthly check-up. (The great doctor has spent more than three decades in the profession, delivered hundreds or thousands of children, dedicated his career to obstetrics, and then I go and slight him with the title "baby doc.")
But back to Anni. Everything is going smoothly. Anni's healthy and doing well, save for the nagging sciatic nerve. She's still sleeping through the night (I don't remember when the multiple pit stops per night started when she was pregnant with Elise, but I've got to think she's coming up on that soon.)
The doctor found Child #2's heartbeat right away, and it was pumping at a healthy 136 beats a minute. So according to myth, that means it's a boy. Yeah, because old wives' tales are always accurate...
We didn't have such quick luck finding the heartbeat at last month's visit. I went along for that visit, and we brought Elise with so that Anni's doctor could see her. Well, the doc tried to locate the baby's heart beat with the fetal doppler (I think it's really called that), but it was silent.
"Let's go try the ultrasound," the doctor said.
That was a surprise, because the clinic previously did not have an ultrasound machine, forcing Anni to drive to another clinic for any ultrasound she needed.
Not only was it a surprise, but it also meant "field trip!" for Elise. So we all wandered down the hall to another room with an ultrasound machine. The doc then found Child #2's heartbeat with little problem.
Meantime, Child #1 -- Elise -- was fascinated by the "belly jelly" used with an ultrasound wand.
"What's that?" Elise asked.
Anni told her it was jelly for the ultrasound.
"Can I eat it?" Elise asked.
Uhm, no.

Spring booted

We had spring-like weather last weekend -- sun, temps in the 40s and plenty of melting. You wouldn't know that if you looked outside this morning -- no sun, temps in the lower 20s, strong winds and winter's taunting mixture of sleet, four inches of snow and a bit of ice just to really stick it to us.

So it was nice last weekend to let Elise put on her new mud boots and go out in search of mud in the yard. It made us think of how much we covet summer months.

Until then, photos with oh-so-fleeting glimpses of actual grass -- and mud -- in Minnesota in March:

Are you late for a date or something?

The other night the three of us were eating dinner. Elise was just about done, but still focused on the task at hand. Then suddenly she stopped eating, paused, looked up at us and asked:

"What time is it?"

A dip and a Punch

So you got the low-down on Elise's 2nd birthday party (see below) but I neglected to post about Elise's actual birthday.
Last year Anni and I took the day off on Elise's birthday and the three of us headed to the Children's Museum in St. Paul, as a way to celebrate outside of the traditional birthday party. It was a good time and the start of a tradition -- if two years in a row counts as tradition.
This year, Elise's birthday party was on a Saturday, her actual birthday the following Sunday. We decided to take Elise swimming on her birthday. She loves water -- lakes, bath tubs, spray bottles -- so after breakfast Sunday we hustled over to the Maplewood Community Center, which has an indoor pool with an area for little kids, a water slide, etc. Turns out we had the pool to ourselves for most of the visit. Elise had a blast marching around in the wading pool and splashing and generally being a kid in water. We discovered something new to do in the winter and when the weather's crummy.
After 18 cannonballs and one wild game of Marco Polo, we toweled off and headed for lunch at one of our favorite kid-friendly-yet-not-obnoxious restaurants, Punch Pizza. Elise loves the pizza and so do we.
It was an enjoyable way to spend her birthday.

What can you say other than that the lady loves her Neopolitan pizza with a side of peas.

"Climb that tree..."

If Elise had a list of her all-time Top 5 books, "Go, Dog. Go!" would be assured a spot. So when Anni was trying to figure out what kind of cake to make Elise for her 2nd birthday last weekend, "Go, Dog. Go!" was an obvious theme for the cake. (It was not a "themed" party, however. I'm just fine with stopping at a themed cake.) So Anni used the final scene from the book as the basis for Elise's cake. Gotta admit: I don't know a thing about cake decorating, but that cake looked really good.

It was a good party; thanks to all the family and the Singels for showing up. I used to wonder why people held "parties" for kids so young, but now I get it. (If nothing else, we do it to see how many relatives we can fit in one room -- peaceably!) Elise had a good time, even if she was a bit overwhelmed. After all, the girl just wanted to eat grapes, and we kept pushing presents on her. (See an upcoming blog post about The Grandparent Gifts.)

Here are some photos from the birthday party:

Elise helped Anni make frosting for the cake. 

Kid + bag of sugar  = happy kid.

Watching the magic.

So here's the cake and the picture Anni tried to replicate -- and my left hand. Not a bad cake, huh? She found little toy dogs to put on the cake.

Gift opening. I don't have a camera lens wide enough to include all 17 people who were in our living room. Yes, 17. And there were empty chairs.

One of the gifts we gave Elise were a pair of rubber rain boots for her to use in the garden this summer. She loves hanging out in there, and this is cheaper than going through several pairs of shoes over the course of the summer. Plus, even I'll admit those are some cool boots for the little lady.

Some mornings, I wish I had pull-'em-up-straps like these on my shoes.

If there was a theme to the party, it might have involved gardening. We got Elise the boots, and her cousins Randy and Jacob gave her a children's gardening kit. (Rake, shovel, seeds and, as you can see, an umbrella.) She is set for the summer.

Candle concentration.

Cute, right? Well, what if I told you what Elise usually does is offer to share food -- only to yank it away and give you a devilish "heh, heh" in return? She's discovered playful teasing. This time, though, she was all about sharing with Anni.

We like this picture. I like it because it's as close as we'll get to having Elise hold the fork and give an expression reminiscent of the painting "American Gothic."

She's 2

I'll post more soon, but wanted to get something up here in the meantime.

Overheard...

Overheard at the house tonight:
"Please don't put your socks in the silverware drawer."

New customer at an old standby

Through downtown St. Paul, across the high bridge and up the hill sits one of our favorite hole-in-the-wall restaurants, Capitol View Cafe. (The restaurant's name makes sense -- you can see the Minnesota Capitol from there. Well, you can see the Capitol if you stand in the middle of the street in front of the restaurant, but why ruin a good promotion with crummy details?)
Anyway, it's been nearly two years since we've been to Capitol View, and last weekend we decided to bring Elise there for an early Sunday morning breakfast. She dug it.

It's only fair I get this look while trying to take a picture as she eats. 

Waiting for that breakfast order? Here's some Play Doh, now go to town.

Jam sessions

Everybody has to have a hobby, right?
Elise has found a hobby: checking for toe jam. Usually it's her own feet she's interested in, but ask nicely and she may be willing to dig between your toes too. We're not sure where this started, but like most other odd behavior she probably picked it up in passing from ... me.
There is nothing in particular that triggers her, uhm, jam sessions. She'll just announce, "I check for toe jam," and then plop down on the floor, take off her sock and give those digits a look. In a testament to our ability to keep her clean, she rarely finds anything in those toe crevices.
Disappointed there were no discoveries, she undoubtedly remembers what to do next:
"I check the other foot."