Allison's anger

Allison and Nicole are pretty unique from each other.  Nicole is very physical.  Allison is a little more laid-back.  Nicole would always feel very wronged if you ever took control away from her and would put up a fierce fight.

But Allison's laid-back attitude doesn't mean she lacks will power.  When she's decided she wants something, she is determined to get it.  Last week, she really wanted to touch Daddy's computer.  She would crawl toward it, and I would pick her up and put her back ten feet.  She would crawl toward it again, and I would move her back.  No matter how many times we repeated this, she continued to refocus her goal as soon as I put her back down on the ground, like a little baby robot whose arms and legs only know one setting:  to crawl toward the computer.  Finally, Daddy took over and blocked her from crawling over to the computer.  I have never seen so much fury emanate from such a tiny person.  For about ten minutes, she battled her Daddy, screeching and crying, her red face contorted with anger.  Realizing that Daddy was not going to let her pass, she sat with legs straddled and pounded the floor between her legs.  She arched her back angrily, shaking with frustration.  Every now and then, she would make another attempt to climb over her daddy, but blocked from her goal, she would roll haphazardly onto her back, over and over, trying to cope with this obstacle between herself and her mission.  It was a very hard lesson for a determined ten-month-old to learn.

Swings and fireworks

Tonight, we watched the Pioneer day fireworks from afar.  Lots of neighbors here like to buy expensive fireworks, so you basically just have to walk outside for a free show.  Nicole remarked, "It's so pretty.  It looks like a volcano.  It looks like Christmas."

It was interesting to watch Allison take in the fireworks.  She seems fine-tuned for audio, whereas Nicole, as a baby, seemed oriented toward the visual.  Anyway, the fireworks put Allison on alert, as she kept looking around for the source of the noises, and got startled a bit by a giant aerial firework that went off nearby.

Here are some pictures of the sisters swinging a couple days ago:

She loves to chew on metal.  You will often find her sitting on the floor, folded in half, with her mouth on the zipper of my saliva-soaked purse.

Sweet dreams

Allison adores her sister so much, when we walk into Nicole's room while Nicole is asleep, Allison will laugh and jolt excitedly.

Apparently, she loves Nicole so much, the same thing happens when Allison is sleeping.  Yesterday, Allison fell asleep on my belly in the baby carrier.  Her head hung back, her face toward the ceiling, her mouth open.  I knelt down to show Nicole her peaceful, sleeping sister.  Nicole hugged Allison's head, disturbing her slightly, and kissed her.  Apparently, Allison recognized Nicole's touch, because - her eyes still closed - a big smile spread across her face.  The smile faded, and Allison continued to sleep.  Nicole repeated her affectionate hug and kiss, and Allison grinned widely again, her eyes still closed.  I tried kissing Allison, but I didn't get the same reaction.

Artwork, and our visit to the park today

A picture from a couple weeks ago, inspired by "StoryBots":  the planets, including Earth, "the largest one," and "the one with two rings."  The girl at the bottom touched the sun, so she's on fire.  Not sure I've seen that episode.

"Hey, you,"

"get over here."

"Say, 'cheese.'"

"Phoweijalskdfjl."

Unsuccessful photo shoot:

Allison loves to rip and shred things.  She tears out the polyester batting from her high chair, tear out grass, and rips up any paper and tissues she can get her hands on.  Here, she has found a leaf.

If I recall correctly, the dialogue here was, "Bwleeaaaaaah."

Nicole was collecting leaves, throwing them up in the air, and shouting, "Summer surprise!"

One that she especially liked.

Allison spotlight

Three weeks ago (on Nicole's birthday), we were at Grandma and Grandpa's house, and Allison's uncle sat her on the floor with a giant, solid glass ball in front of her.  Just as if it were another baby toy, Allison surprised everyone by lifting the ball straight to her face to taste it.  The ball was 2 lbs 10 oz (and 4 inches in diameter), so with Allison weighing 16 pounds, it was a sixth of her body weight.  I imagine it was the equivalent of me lifting a very heavy bowling ball.  "She's strong!" we exclaimed.

Another Allison story.  At the family reunion a week ago, my cousin and her husband were singing a song together for a little talent show.  We sat in the front, and I set Allison on the living room floor.  She crawled toward them, and then their song ended, and she turned her body back and looked toward me.  The large room echoed with the sound of clapping as everyone applauded for my cousin and her husband.  Allison's eyes widened and a big smile spread across her face; her head shook excitedly slightly from side to side as she took in the sound of the applause and the many happy faces directed at her.  Energized, she quickly pattered back to me, her face glowing with glee.

One more interesting observation about Allison:  Her approach to goals is straight lines, head first.  If she sees something she wants, and there's something blocking her way, she doesn't go around that thing.  She goes over it or straight through it.  If she's on the couch and sees the remote controls on the ground, she just dives head first off the couch.  I've caught her by the foot a couple times before she crashed headfirst, and one or two times, she has crashed.  Tim's family were cracking up last week when Allison apparently saw something she wanted when she was under the table, and crawled over the matrix of bars under the table to get to it.  If you're in her way, she will crawl over you.  Whether it's your face, your eyes, your neck (it was Daddy's neck today) - it doesn't matter.  You can't get in the way of Allison's single-minded determination.  We've barricaded the living room with giant pillows to keep her away from the computer, but our feeble attempts to beat back the beast have apparently backfired, as Allison's confidence in her ability to scale large objects has flourished.  She energetically climbs the pillows and joyfully plunges face first on the other side, almost as if the purpose of the pillows was to augment her enjoyment of the challenge.  Sometimes, because she can't be contained, we put her in her exersaucer, or "baby jail," as we call it.  The other day, Tim found her leaning over and trying to pull herself out of it.  Is someone a little self-assured?  Today, in an attempt to trap Allison in my brother's living room so I could work on the yard, I laid the piano bench on its side to block the exit.  My sister-in-law was stuck on the couch nursing her son, and from the other room, I heard her shout, "No, Allie!  No, no!"  I returned to the living room to find Allison hanging on her belly halfway over the piano bench, her feet dangling in the air behind her.

When Allison breaches the barriers and crawls under the computer desk, I remind her, "No Allie!"  She giggles and scurries away from me, feverishly causing as much destruction as she can before the clock runs out.  We've had to put a table in front of the TV so Allison won't beat it with her hand.  The other day, we stopped her and put something in her way.  She found her way back to the TV, lifted her hand, and, with a big, expectant smile, turned her head toward Daddy, waiting for him to react.  Cheeky...cheeky baby.