do not go gentle into that good night

When I ask Brie, come naptime, if she's ready to go find her binkies, she throws herself into my arms with a violence that sometimes causes us to crack heads. It's enthusiasm of some kind, but is it, "oh yes, yes, binkies!" or "save me, Mommy, save me from the nap!"???

When Adam opens the car door, and tells her to climb into her car seat, and then goes round to open the other door for me, what do we find her doing? Not climbing into her car seat, but climbed into the front seat, where she spins the wheel and manuevers the stick back and forth with great gusto. Little mimic.

And counting. Brie likes to count. I wouldn't necessarily say that she's any good at it, but she's certainly discovered it. She sits with her picture books on the couch, feet stuck straight out in front of her, and proceeds to count: "Ooo-dah, na-dah, een-dah, DEE! DEE-dah!"

Brie has also achieved her first real black eye, by cleverly diving head first off a kitchen chair while holding a measuring spoon (or cup, I'm not sure). Her eyelid is puffy and red, and it's already purple up by the cut on her eyebrow. This was very traumatic, for both of us, although I felt better as soon as I got a good look at her pupils, which were both still the same size. She refused my attempts at a coldpack, was okay with the antibiotic gel, but protested the bandaid. Now she looks like someone with eye makeup gone wrong. It reminds me of the eighties, when teenagers were doing those brightly-colored patterns on one side of their faces. It doesn't seem to be bothering her at all though, so that's good.

I was pretty surprised, because she hasn't fallen off of anything for awhile. I suppose every little while she remembers that it's not that long ago that she learned to walk.

That's it from Brie-land!

-Jess