I Love You From Singapore

When I, your dad, take business trips they are usually long like my hair and busy like you at night during your first few months of life. Thus, your dad, has not had an opportunity to write to you while he has been away. But, today, alas, I find myself in Singapore airport with a few hours to kill. What better way to spend my time than to pour my heart out on the internet.

These past two weeks have been the longest stretch of time that I've been away from you. So, when I finished my work in Malaysia 1 day early, I immediately called the travel desk and told them to find me a seat on the next flight to the states - which they did with the utmost courtesty.

My trip has been filled with visions of you, both in my mind and on the computer. My desktop now bares your glaring image from a posting below and many nights went sleepless as I stared at every photo that I could find of you online. If you ever want something cool to do, Google your name. A very hip, cool website comes up!

I just wanted you to know that when I am away from you, I miss you. I miss you more than mexican food, my limp iPod (damn non-US outlets won't let me recharge it), and really good beer put together. And, trust me, after two weeks of curry and rave music....well, that's a lot.

You mean the world to me even when I'm halfway across that world. I successfully kept my mind occupied by shopping in shops that I'd never shopped before (prada, armani, etc) and experiencing things for the first time (massages and karaoke). But while partaking in these activities, I never once forgot about you and how much I missed you. And while I had fun, nothing in this world can compare to the times when I'm lying on the floor watching you run around with glee grafitied on your face.

You rock. You roll. And damnit, I can't wait to be home with you.

The BOBsled

Another glorious weekend with grandpa took place. As you get older it takes you less and less time to get aquainted with grandpa... which, I'm sure, he loves!

So this weekend, grandpa brought up a kitty scratching post (that he made himself). The cat from hell LOVES it... and he also invented a new game for the two of you to play together... the BOBsled.

This is a game in which you sit in your toy box (emptied of toys, of course) and grandpa pushes and pulls you around as though you are in a sled. Being the clever grandpa that he is, he decided to call this activity, the BOBsled (since grandpa's name is BOB). Yep! you got your brains and wit from me and I got my brains (half, at least) and wit from grandpa.

As the morning progressed, and grandpa's herniated disc in his back was giving out, we decided to switch activities. We turned from the BOBsled to a barber shop. You decided to try your hand at grooming and tending to grandpa's facial hair... And what a wonderful job you did!

One more for the road....

Here's another picture for you to enjoy while you are overseas... You can see how puffy her eyes got while she was so sick... poor baby... i think she needs her dada to come home (or maybe I need her dada to come home)...

Awwww... we LOVE cookies!

We love you dada and miss you while you are gone in Malaysia!
We look at your pictures everyday and everyday she gives you kisses!

Where DID you get that 'tude, lil miss?

So today, like the last 3 days, you have been sick with a high temp. Although you are sick, to the untrained Ayjia eye, one would think that you are just a little fussy. You are still tormenting the cat from hell and running amok and getting into things that are less than appropriate (i.e. the cat's litter box... patience, you'll be potty-trained soon enough, my child).

After two days of getting less than 4 hours of sleep (momma is beginning to feel like dada) I decided (at 4 am this morning) that I would take you to the doctor (your dr, Dr. Kelly, rocks). So in the wee hours of tha mornin', momma made an appointment.

Fast forward a few hours

In the waiting room of the dr's office you were running around, flirting with everyone and anyone. After 15 minutes of waiting your name was called ("attempted to be pronounced" would be a more accurate immediate description). We took you back to see Dr. Kelly. As usual, she was happy to see you and you were happy to see her. So happy, in fact, that you gave her a big smile and said "hi dere".

Dr. Kelly asked her usual questions and then we moved to the written portion of the exam... actually, she then proceeded to poke and prod you and shine lights in your eyes, squeeze your tummy like you were the Reebok pump, and stick the popcicle stick in your mouth and on your tongue. Once we got to this part you gagged and grabbed her hand and pushed it away from you. Like a good dr, Dr. Kelly stopped depressing your tongue.

Then we moved to the part where she unbuttons your shirt and puts her stethoscope on your chest to listen to you breathe. Again, you shoved the stethoscope off of you and gave her a mean and grimmacing look while letting out the "dooooon't" whine. Dr. Kelly looked at you incredulously and at that point, still grimmacing with your momma's disapproving look, you said "bu-bye". Of course, being the supportive mother that I am, I burst out laughing.
After I laughed, you thought you were pretty amusing and kept saying "bu-bye, bu-bye" and waving at Dr. Kelly. Poor Dr. Kelly. All she could do was smile and laugh and say, "Where DID you get that 'tude, lil miss?"

DADA

So we promised dada that we would post some pictures and info to your blog for some friendly reading while he is away to summer camp (it's really "fat" camp) but we'll call it Malaysia for now. Since dad's been gone you have gotten really sick. And for the life of us, glamma and I can't figure out what you have and your fever is much too high for teething. Your fever is in the area of 102. WOO! that is high!
So anyway...your "dead beat dad" had to go to work in Malaysia so we can afford our beautiful home and can afford me to stay home with you. Every morning you go to our home office door and bang on the door and yell "DADA DADA?" Not only do you call for dada but you now call the other men that play with you dada. We went over to our good friend Tynna's house for our good friend Sabrina's birthday. You proceeded to call Tynna's husband, brother, and brother in law "Dada". I swear your dada is the REAL dada

A Queen, A Princess and the Golden Sunglasses

Note to audience: this entry MUST be read in a british accent

Once upon a time there was a baby girl named Ayjia. She was the most beautiful baby in all the land. Not only was she the most beautiful, but she was also the smartest baby that ever lived. This was simply due to the fact that she had the most beautiful and smartest mama in the whole wide world. (note to audience: guess....just guess which one of us is typing this). (note to audience: my apologies for that RUDE interuption... back to the story) However, in this story, beautiful , smart, mama queens have beautiful and smart bad days every once in a while, too.

This queen mother had done a fabulous job of teaching the royal term "poo poo" to the beautiful princess Ayjia every time her fabulous face would turn red in regal concentration of the "poo poo" task. The queen mama worked day and night in an attempt to hear the beautiful princess Ayjia speak the long awaited royal words. The queen waited days and alas, no sucess. Weeks passed and the queen did her royal duty, without fail to teach the princess the important words. The queen grew tired of her endless doody duty.

She begged and pleaded with the king to give her a break from the chores of raising such a fine and perfect being (in her own image, nonetheless). The king begrudgingly rose from his royal computer throne and pryed his regal fingers from the royal iMac and agreed to allow the queen to rest from her weeks and weeks of "poo poo" work. The queen retired to her chambers for a long overdue beauty rest.

The king was joyus to see his daughter playing with her royal 4-legged subjects, Countesses Storm and Naked and the humerous court jester, Tigger. All (of) the sudden, the princess stopped. A familiar glassy-eyed look took hold. The princess' royal face flushed, her cheeks persed with force... and then... it happened. The king stared at his daughter, thinking, should I awake the queen? Will her royal heiny need tending?... Did she or didn't she? The question was quickly answered. The royal princess, proudly walked over to her father, the king, and said with utter confidence and unmistakable enunciation, "poo poo!!!!!" and continued playing with her royal subjects. What a proud day for the king!

Later that day, after hearing of her daughters LONG AWAITED accomplishment (that she was not there for), the queen, the king and the princess went to the ultra shiek palace of Le WalMart. (note: it's "Le" Wal Mart in this story, because like the French, Le Wal Mart is dirty and stinky). (legal note: we love the french and their marvelous fries... thanks for the statue)

The queen, after having many diet cokes and a tremendoulsy full bladder, decided to use the the facilities. Unlike Canada, in Le Wal Mart, when using the facilities, a royal paper toilet seat protector is absolutely necessary to protect a queen's royal bum. After doing her royal duty as if she had just been defrosted from chryogenic frozen state, the queen attempted to finagle the toilet seat protector down the toilet when the royal sunglasses dropped from their holding place, between her bossom, and fell directly into the now golden showered toilet bowl.

After missing the princess' long awaited accomplishment and losing her beloved sunglasses, the royal queen could say only one thing:

"poo poo."

What To Call Your...uh..."Hoo Hoo"

We try to avoid speaking baby talk in this house, but our avoidance techniques were recently challenged when you discovered your "woman part." Somewhere between "Vagina" and "Hoo Hoo" lies a word that we can teach you which would be acceptable by society but not baby talk.

Vagina would be OK, but it's slightly too clinical and you probably wouldn't be able to say it (You can't even say Daddy yet properly - but Dada will suffice for now). We also know a whole slew of vulgar terms such as Steak Drapes and Sugar Walls, but we don't want CPS to show up at our door quite yet.

So, after much deliberation - and by deliberation I mean a 2 second conversation - we decided upon "Coochie." Our friend Tynna taught her daughter "coochie" and it is very cute when she says it, so we went for it as well.

Now when we're changing you, you immediately grab your coochie and yell out, "Tucci!" Not perfect, but hey, it's better than "hoo hoo."

A Girl's Got To Earn A Living Somehow

Rock Out Which Yo' Bad Self