I'm loving my little girl so much right now, I just can't keep it to myself. I came back tonight from a haircut, after 8 p.m., to an empty house - Mehdi took Anissa to watch a bit of a soccer game - and (admittedly, after enjoying a quiet soak in the tub and a little "me" time) I'm missing them. I've got it so good. I have a fabulous, loving husband, and our daughter fills me with the kind of joy I never could have imagined before becoming a mother. She cracks me up a hundred times a day, is generous with her hugs and kisses, and shows an empathy beyond her years. She's a beauty, inside and out. And the cutest thing? Lately, she's been asking me "Mama, are you proud of me?" When I (obviously) gush that yes, of course, so so proud, she gets the hugest grin on her face. She knows it but loves to hear it anyway.

Thursday was (American) Thanksgiving, and we woke up to our first snowfall. Mehdi had planned to go to work, but just knowing that everyone was at home celebrating, and with the snow making it feel like Christmas, we decided to spend some quality family time. We played a bit in the snow and took a scenic drive. Then we did what I recommend everyone do on such occasions: skip the turkey and go out for dinner. The best part of our day together - almost, but not quite, beat out by the white fluffy stuff in the yard - was the chocolate brownie cake with icecream for dessert.



Now, I love chocolate, but Anissa's passion for the stuff obviously comes from her Papa. She would have licked the pan clean if we had let her. (But Mehdi wanted it for himself ;)

Mehdi's going to kill me for writing this, but I've recently discovered another way Anissa takes after him. She often decides she has to use the potty right as we're on our way out the door -and especially when we're already running late - and then spends a good fifteen minutes to half an hour hanging out in the john before getting down to business. I thought it was impossible to make it to anything on time with Mehdi's habits, but with two bathroom-dawdlers in the family now we'll never ever be remotely on time for anything ever again.

It was 14 above in Dover today, so Anissa and I spent most of the day outside. We strolled along the river walk and played in the playground, soaking up the rays. I miss warm weather already and we haven't even seen any real winter days yet.




On another note: Anissa successfully stayed on her own at her playgroup today for the second week in a row while I went across the hall for a parenting group. We've struggled in the past with the separation thing, but a few weeks ago she told me should would "try her best" to have fun, even after I leave. Last Monday and today, she stayed the entire hour without any workers having to come and get me. She told me later that she "cried a little bit" while I was gone. All I know is that she was happily doing puzzles when I came back each time, and I nearly danced with joy. My big girl did it!

I'm hearing myself and more and more in Anissa's speech these days, but it actually had me blushing twice yesterday morning.

Incident #1:
While walking up to the front doors of the gymnastics club for her class, actually early for once, she pulled my hand and broke into a run. "Hurry, hurry, Mama, we're LATE!"

Incident #2:
At home, she decided to "cook" with some empty pots while I got lunch ready. She started stirring with a wooden spoon and announced, "Oh no. It's burning!"

Yikes.

While riding (happily this time) in the car today, this is what Anissa told me:

"Mama, Papa's a big boy now. He's not a monster anymore."

A statement which, naturally, I questioned. "What? Papa used to be a monster?"

Her response should motivate Mehdi to reconsider what he calls his "beard management" strategies: "Yeah, Papa shaved now. His face is not scratchy. Now it's soft!"

Mehdi, stop scaring the children.

I was feeling a little low energy this morning, but Mehdi was up for some outdoor fun. Anissa's pleas for me to join them on an adventure convinced me to ditch the pajamas and hop in the car. It was a gorgeous day for mid-November, so we drove to a nearby oceanside state park with a great playground. Mehdi chased Anissa around while I soaked up the sun (yes, SUN!) and read a book. After a little picnic, we strolled along the beach and collected sea shells, rocks, and anything else that caught our eye. We learned all about the intrigue of sea glass from a nice older couple that turned out to be from New Brunswick and also live in Dover. By the time we convinced (euphemism for "dragged away") Anissa it was time to leave, she was exhausted from the sun and sea. This didn't prevent her from telling me on the ride home, "Mama! I wanna go home, Mama!", OVER AND OVER, for the entire 15 minute drive back to Dover, and the extra minutes we spent on detours, trying to get her to conk out.

Now, I've had some rather unpleasant car rides with Anissa, and this one involved no screaming or crying, but those words over and over were excruciating. After hearing them for what had to be the thousandth time, I was ready to throw myself out of the car. Mehdi was about to crack, too, because he begged me to do something, please, to get her to "be quiet" (I'm softening words here), and it turns out all it took was reaching behind me and holding her hand for five seconds and she was DOWN.

But did she give up? Oh no, not our daughter! When I carried her into the house from the car, she muttered in her sleep, "Mama, I wanna go home". And then, an hour into her nap, she woke up yelling for me, and before falling back asleep, got the famous little phrase in their one last time. At that point, at least it was funny and no longer the equivalent of having my fingernails ripped out.

Here's a shot of my persistent little lady and I on the beach, before the joy ride:

Anissa's favorite topic of conversation lately is about when she "gets bigger" or "grows up". She'll be quiet for a few minutes, deep in thought, then tell me what her newest plans are for the future. The first few she shared were simple enough, like wanting to have her own house and her own telephone. But they are getting better. Here are a few samples:

"When Anissa gets bigger, I'm gonna have a dog house."
I ask her what kind of dog she's going to have, but she shoots me a dirty look.
"I no gonna have a dog. I'm gonna BE a dog! And live in a doghouse."

(Sounds logical, I guess?)

"When I grow up, I'm gonna be a boy. Like Papa. A BIG boy. And I'm going to wear panties and pee on the potty."

(Hmm, I think she got a few things mixed up there?)

"When I get bigger I'm gonna drive a train and pull the handle to go choo-choo."

(Well, at least she's got aspirations other than to become a canine!)

I'm enjoying all these little projections into the future, but I have a feeling the best is yet to come. When Mehdi was not much older than Anissa is now, he told his family that when he was grown up and married he was going to throw his mother-in-law to the sharks.

Watch out Mom!

Nope, I haven't given up blogging. Anissa and I hopped a ride (and quite a ride it was, but that's a whole blog entry of its own!) with Dan, Natasha and Lala to Montreal on Halloween day. We spent the whole week in the Great White North while Mehdi was in Texas for a conference. And, other than that, I've been a little lazy. But we're back, with some of the highlights of the past week or so...



Here's Anissa - oh, I mean Curious George - waiting for Mariella (aka Pippi Longstocking) to arrive in Dover to go trick-or-treating.

The girls were adorable, trotting from house to house to gather their goodies. Anissa was on a mission: immediately after getting her candy at each house, and being reminded to say thank you, she would say, "More! More people's houses now!" It made her look like one greedy toddler, but I didn't have time to explain that it wasn't about the candy. It was all about the experience...really.







Here's Anissa strolling in the Old Port in Montreal, clutching a suitcase containing Lulu, the lamb she chose and outfitted with Mama Jo at the Teddy Bear Factory.

And here's my girl all dolled up for Eid.

It was fantastic as always to be back. Family, friends, good bakeries...sigh.