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Easter Festivities

Abby is fully mobile, fully curious, full of energy and fully capable of dramatically saying the word "no."  And the thing is that I try so very hard not to use "no" regularly.  I save it for dangerous or potentially embarrassing situations (Embarrassing for me, that is.)  All of this leaves little time to blog.  

So here's a recap of Abigail's Easter activities. . .a bit late.

Easter Egg Hunt with one of Abby's playgroups.  Notice how the other children have cute little baskets to collect eggs.  

Supermom here forgot our basket, so what did my poor child use to collect her eggs?  That's right.  A camouflage lunch bag.

A visit from cousin Callie, complete with a glow-in-the-dark Easter Egg Hunt.

Playtime at the park.

Visit with the Easter Bunny.

Glow-in-the-dark Easter Egg bath.

Easter dinner at Nana and Grandpa's

Remember, I said she wouldn't be a foo-foo girl?  Yeah.  Add that to the list of parenting never-do's, along with television and sugar.

 

Rhythm

I hope that Abby inherits her father athletic and culinary abilities, as well as his other gazillion positive attributes.  However, I'm determined that this child will have my rhythm.  And my love of music.  And my love of dancing.  And my love of birds (Oh, that's another post).

So I took Abby to a music workshop at the library.  Once again, when most of the children sat in their parents' laps during the beginning of the lesson, Abby, along with one other older boy, planted herself right in the middle of the circle.  Didn't want to miss a word.

Shake that money-maker.


Dancing with a scarf, a favorite prop.




A few times the music facilitator had the children sit with their parents and together we played instruments to the beat of the music.  Each time I brought Abby onto my lap.  Each time she wiggled her way out of my grasp, walked across the circle, and sat with another mom.  At the end of the workshop, Abby signaled for this mom to pick her up and take her home.

Hmph.  Must be because the preferred mom and I look so much alike.

Belly Button

Abby celebrated St. Patrick's Day by flashing her midriff.  I hope this isn't foreshadowing a teenage wardrobe of half shirts and low-rise jeans.

Table & Chairs

I recently went to a kids consignment sale, my favorite kind of shopping adventure.  Among other treasures, I picked up a small table and two chairs for Abby.  They're not of the greatest of construction, but I figured they would hold us over until we can purchase a sturdier set.  

The best part?  Guess how much I paid.  Just guess.

Five stinking dollars.  Go me.

I set up the table in the dining room while Abby was napping.  When she came downstairs she made a beeline to it and immediately climbed on the chair.  

  
The she played with some of her toys at the table for a while.  

Sitting on the chair allowed Abby to easily manipulate her empty oatmeal canister and wooden craft sticks.  (We're very high-tech in this house.)

When Abby wanted to get down from the chair she had a little trouble.  Her feet don't quite reach the floor yet.

She started to push her chair away from the table.

She pushed.



And pushed.



And pushed.



And pushed some more.  



At this point she looked over at me as to say "Why are you still playing with that stupid camera, mom?  Can't you see I need help?!"