Here is a cheat sheet on the wonderful, glorious, lovable Dos:

• She’s giant. At 15 weeks she’s 16 pounds. She currently fits in 12 month clothing but won’t for long. She is in size 3 diapers.
• She has acid reflux which means she spits up ALOT and has to take Zantac so she’s not miserable. Bibs are like tissues to her. She also hates sleeping without touching a living being so she spends most of her sleeping hours on me in some way, shape or form.
• She is excessively smiley and happy. Her good mood is so ever-present that when she does cry, you know something is very wrong. She posed in her Christmas dress for our holiday card picture right after Thanksgiving. On Christmas, I put the dress back on her and she screamed bloody murder … like someone was sticking her bum with a tack. I couldn’t figure it out and guessed maybe she didn’t like the dress, so I took it off. She immediately started smiling in relief once I took it over her head. The neck was too tight and she just outgrew it.
• She’s cutting two teeth. She will vomit if you give her berry flavored Tylenol but can tolerate grape.
• The doctor had her start eating rice cereal at 3 months to help alleviate the reflux at night. She didn’t blink and takes cereal in a bottle like a champ once a day.
• I wish they made full sized cribs in the shape of bouncy seats. Not for the bounce or vibrate but for the ability to make her feel like she’s in a cocoon. It’s the only thing she will sleep in that doesn’t involve me.
• She cannot get enough of watching Lolo. She thrives on following her every leap, scream and skip around the house.
• She’s in love with Nuk brand binkies and her raccoon lovies.
• She talks up a storm and is prone to doing so in the middle of the night both in her sleep and wide awake.
• She hates reclining except when she’s sleeping in the bouncer. She does little ab crunches to raise her head as if she can just sit on up and join the action. She would much rather be in the thick of the muck with Lolo.

Dos in the bumbo seat for the first time.

It took close to 100 shots to get the money Christmas card winner.

Typical smiley Dos.

Brunch with the family.

The girls.

She started small.

We officially got 24-inches of snow the day after Christmas and had an interesting time shoveling ourselves out when not going stir crazy inside. Again, this year Lolo enjoyed about 7 minutes with the snow before wanting retreat to the comfort of her viewing chair with a nice cheese stick and “warm chawk-waht” which is hot chocolate on the luke warm side if you didn’t know. It’s how all the cool kids take their cocoa.

Uncle Charlie and Mr. Banks even shoveled the elderly lady’s driveway across the street.

Merry Christmas to everyone and may the New Year bring good health and happiness!

Note on post title: There are gangs of people trying to make a holiday buck who dress up in these amateur character costumes outside Rock Center. The idea is that they provide you with an easy photo-op and you get a picture with a SpongeBob-like character and they get a nice tip. They are everywhere and Lolo saw SpongeBob and decided that it must be a cheese character. We didn’t bother to correct her because it was hilarious to here her call out, “Hi Cheese!”

So excited to sit on her very own NJ Transit seat especially when across from a group of eight 16 year-old teenagers that are soooooo cool. "They even wear lipstick like me." Belle costume is sitting safely in that Disney bag right next to her.

We walked to the front of the line a couple times so she could see the process take place as Santa talked to each of the kids on his lap. She loved it and could barely stand the anticipation of her own conference with him, but it was a nightmare for Mr. Banks and I to watch. It took all of my restraint to not walk into that amateur production and show people what a tightly run ship is all about. But, I held myself back because the Santa they have is the real Santa. He has real white hair down to his shoulders, no wig. He has the rosiest cheeks and only had an attention span for the kids. You could tell it was all about the kids for him and he gave it his all. To that I can raise my glass and pull myself back from breaking bad on the 17 year-old elf assistants manning the cameras.

(At one point as we entered the snow globe just before you emerge to see Santa’s throne, Mr. Banks was idly chatting with one of the “line elves” and she actually said, “You know, the wait, it’s not our fault. It’s all the parents. They want the perfect picture and won’t let it go.” We neglected to ask her who was running the show anyway? And, why would you let a parent dictate how many pictures they could retake with a wait of over two hours in line. And, while I am ranting. Who’s brilliant idea was it to have fake snow falling in a giant snow globe that you were dragging your kids through on their way to get professional pictures? Every mother was patting down their child trying to shake the chemical flakes off their Christmas clothes.)

We made it through, and of course, it was all worth it to see the utter joy in her eyes as she told Santa what she wanted for Christmas. She had no fear and talked to him as if they go way back.

Lolo: “HI SANTA! (loudly) Merry Cwismas”
Santa: “Hi, how are you? Have you been a good girl this year?”
Lolo: “YEAH!”
Santa: “And, what would you like for Christmas this year?”
Lolo: “A FARM!”
Santa: “Ohhh …” (He looks at me as if to see if we are buying her a couple acres this year.)
Me: “A farm set, Santa.”
Santa: “Ah, a farm set. Well, I think we can take care of that for you since you’ve been such a good girl.”
Lolo: “THANK YOU SANTA!!! MERRY CWISMAS!”
Santa: “I think you have a future in public relations.
Lolo to me: “Mama, Santa is so nice!”

Mr. Banks snuck in and took an illegal picture of her with Santa as well!

The class mom of the two year-old class at her preschool organized a coffee klatch for us to get together after this morning’s school drop off. One of my close friends was there with her very active 1 year old-old, which prompted me to gush on and on about how Lolo has always just been “good”. My best example of this has always been that she has never attempted to climb out of her crib. She has asked before if she could either climb in or out of her crib. But, I told her that only mama or papa can get her in and out. And, that was it.

Since abandoning her nap a few weeks ago which really feels like years ago, I have instituted a one hour session of quiet time. She has to be in her crib and mostly quiet. She can read books, sing and play out her elaborate, lifetime channel for toddlers, mini-dramas. But, she has to be there while I eat my lunch in utterly, blissful silence.

Today, I put her in her crib with three books and went about eating and folding mounds of laundry. I was on the phone when I heard an enormous sound. It sounded like a metal dumpster fell from the sky outside our house. And, then she started wailing. I raced upstairs to find her in the middle of her room with tears streaming down her face. I asked what happened and she said, “I twied to climb outta my cwib.” I checked her over and didn’t see any visible wounds or bumps. I asked what she fell on and she appropriately said, “Da gwound.” Then I more specifically asked what part of her body she fell on and she pointed to her face. So I peered into her mouth to find two chipped teeth. It wasn’t horrible but they were now sharp enough to cut her tongue. I raced to the phone and the dentist said to come straight over. The good news is that it was all pretty minor. He grinded the edges and said it was the best possible scenerio and only time with tell if they darken. The teeth won’t be dead he said but they could discolor. Wha?

So, we went home to wind down from the crisis and I started to make broccoli and sausage pizza for her dinner. I kept verbally checking in with her while I was in the kitchen and she would call out a confirmation that all was okay. Once the pizza was done, I asked her to come to the dining room to eat and she didn’t answer. I walked to the playroom and she wasn’t there. I walked to the living room … nothing. I asked where she was and I heard a very guilty, “Over heah.” I found her wedged between the wall and the hutch with my very thick and juicy lip gloss opened and clutched in her hand. Her face was covered in glossy mauve as she both applied and ate the lip color. Her hands were drenched as well.

This doesn’t happen to me. I am never tested like this. She had to sit in time out and then lost her TV privilege for the evening. But she didn’t care because she just wanted to have one, singular bite of pizza and then play doll house with me. I was completely at a loss. Who told her that it’s fun to test the limits? Damn school.