Cast art

Since Clementine is obsessed with tattoos, which she pronounces "dat-too," constantly scanning the bodies of everyone she meets looking for them: dattoo? dattoo?, I knew she'd be psyched to get her own ink, albeit not nearly as permanent as mine. We started with a few pieces but are now trying to get our friends involved by carrying Sharpies around in the diaper bag. So far we've only gotten flames, though a dinner date tonight Laura ("Lola" to darling C) might fill it out a bit more.

It has gone from totally white:

to some bits and pieces from her mama and dad:

to flamingly fabulous:

She likes showing it off, but she also gets a big kick out of wearing her BabyLegs on her arms:


We visited the doctor yesterday and had to endure a whole new round of X-rays, this time without me even in the room. Needless to say, she screamed and yelled the whole time but was pleased to learn that this lovely type of behavior earned her stickers and an endless supply of lollipops, which her mean-ass mom confiscated after our first and last lollipop experience which had her sticky from head to toe. We learned that her bone is "angulated" a bit. In the ER they saw it and thought they would have to sedate her to straighten it out (IV and drugs...no thanks). This guy yesterday thought they could use a wedge in her cast or some manipulation in the office and the resetting the cast, both of which sound infinitely better than drugging her, though I'm sure it will do NOTHING to allay her increasing fear of doctors. Sadly, her pronunciation has improved and she's no longer calling them "cocktors" like in the ER, even though the guy yesterday was kind of an ass. He had the bedside manner of a jellyfish and reacted really poorly to her objections when he abruptly walked into the office and grabbed at her arm with nary a greeting. He also tried to give her a sling, although the smallest they had was for a 4-year-old and it's not like she's going to keep it on. Maybe I'll fashion one out of an old necktie or something...

All of this and she refuses to slow down even a second. She's still very busy in her kitchen (mostly cooking eggs, though she has every other kind of wooden fruit in the universe) and getting into whatever she can. She has become addicted to the same three or four books and has funny ways of DEMANDING you put down the book you are trying to read her and get her the one she wants. For example, making an ugly throat-cleaning sound means she wants you to read Yummy Yucky (I guess the Yucky sound is the throat cleaning), saying "No no!" means she wants to ready Mo Willem's Don't Let the Pigenon Drive the Bus (because you say "No" whenever he asks), and "No mah" means snowman or The Truth About Snowpeople. There are a few others, but I think I've blocked them out. It's funny, but I swear to god if I have to read Yummy Yucky again I may lose my mind, especially because there are so many other great books I want to read with her. She'll tolerate a good dozen, but there are some she won't even let me pull off the shelf.

And, um, can we talk about this face?