Breanna just rolled from her back onto her tummy for the first time! I put her down for a diaper change, turned away to get a fresh diaper, and as I turned back, she was reaching for her book and flipped over. Yay!

Of course she may be five years old before she flips from tummy to back because she hates tummy time tremendously, but at least we have one direction going!

In lieu of written content, what with the 4:40 am wake-up call and the fact that it’s now 11:10 pm, I give you pictures instead.

As mentioned the other day, playing ducks in the sink is fun.

Proof of Hayley’s awesome imagination. She had me help her in setting up this blue blanket and she got a wooden panel from her easel so that she could go “surfing in the ocean”.

We have tons of toys for various ages. Yet nothing pacifies like your average spatula. The look of awe cracks me up.

“Hi, I’m Breanna and I’m a HAPPY HAPPY baby!”

On Friday we moved Hayley’s bed into her toom. She was so ecstatic that she was back in her pajamas before supper and tried to go to bed at 6:15 that night. Note that Breanna the HAPPY HAPPY baby was less than happy to be dumped on the bed so that Mom could take a picture.

People think I’m nuts when I mention that my not-quite-four-month-old daughter is teething. To the naysayers, I can point out that: a) Although six months may indeed be the average age to get teeth, the very fact that it’s AVERAGE means that some babies must therefore get some teeth earlier and some get them later. b) People had the same reaction when I said that about Hayley but her first tooth popped out at four months, c) Breanna will chew angrily on my finger for long periods of time in an effort to find relief, and d) although this was taken immediately post-bath, I assure you that’s NOT water all over her face. I’m thinking of switching her nickname from Puffin to Drippy.

It’s 10:15 am. I’ve been up since 4:40 am. I’ve already had two coffees and any more will make me jittery and queasy. My eyes are burning.

Help me.

All babies seem to have a ticklish spot somewhere. I think being ticklish (or not) is something you grow into. I know when Hayley was a baby, you could get an occasional snicker, but now just the mere threat of being tickled, finger wiggling a few inches away will have her laughing and shrieking hysterically.

The other day I finally found the one spot on Breanna’s body that tickles her and which will bring about giggles and belly laughs 95% of the time. Right under the floating ribs on her left side is the target. Tickling her with a finger sometimes works but kissing her loudly on that precise area is what works best.

All I have to do is kiss her two or three times and she’s laughing. If I stop and look her in the eye, she’ll start saying, “Ahh, ehhhhhhhh” with a big smile while wiggling around in the hopes that I’ll do it again.

I’m pretty ticklish myself and don’t particularly enjoy it, so I have to have my fun now while I have two girls who are still young enough to think being tickled is hilarious. On a dreary overcast and damp day like today, peals of shrieking laughter are just what I need to hear.

Last night’s “Grey’s Anatomy” in point form:

Sometimes I get Hayley set up with something and it’s such a big hit that I wonder why I never thought to do it before. In the bathroom earlier, I was doing laundry, and Hayley decided to put her bath ducks in the sink and turned the water on (Breanna was in her bouncy seat, sucking her fingers, for the record). She thought it was really fun, but we don’t have a plug for that sink.

Instead, I told her to bring her bath toys and her stool to the kitchen. I put the plug in, filled it 3/4 full with warm water, put a t-shirt on her, and I swear it’s been about an hour now. I hung out with her for awhile, and now I’m in here feeding Breanna, and all I can hear is Hayley giggling and making her ducks talk to each other.

I know the floor will get wet, but I figure it’s just water after all. I asked her to just try not to get too carried away and to avoid purposely dumping it on the floor. I figure that when she’s done, I’ll mop it all up and get a clean floor as a bonus.

Sometimes it’s so easy to make her happy.

The other rat, Mozart is dead now too. I had a feeling earlier but only checked after Hayley was passed out in bed, because I wanted to avoid a sleepless night. I’m not going to enjoy telling her that her other rat’s gone now too, especially without George here for back-up.

I never did mention what happened after we told her Nicodemus had died. She was upset at first; she had seen that episode of Caillou where they found the dead bird, so she had some idea of what I meant. She wanted to know why so I told her that rats get old much faster than people and that Nic was really very old for a rat. I avoided saying the words “sick” (especially since she herself was sick with a cold) or that good old “he went to sleep” – you don’t want to make connections between death and sleep with a child, especially one who already has sleep issues.

She got pretty teary-eyed and wanted to know if he would come back and I said no. She cried a bit but the worst part was that she kept worrying that Mozart was all alone and would miss his friend. That was heart-breaking. George said that she woke up that night and was talking about it, but overall she handled it as well as you can expect at that age, and better than I had hoped.

Also, two days later I cheered her up by suggesting we make a “buddy” for Mozart. We took an old mateless baby sock, stuffed it with fabric, and I sewed it up. We attached a yarn tail, a pom-pom nose, and drew two little eyes on him. Mozart actually did curl up with it from time to time so that made her happy.

I have no idea how she’ll react to this news but I have to tell her first thing tomorrow since she’ll notice he’s gone when she goes to get her clothes (the tank is on her dresser).

In all honesty, I’m sad but relieved. I don’t think he was doing that well. I think he was blind in one eye, he looked like he was developing a tumor on his leg, and he was a bit wobbly and lethargic when he walked. I don’t believe he was suffering but I’m glad for his sake that he went before that became an issue. Again, he lived to a very old age for rats. But he’ll be missed.

And so, again, I post the same image, this time drawing attention to the beige Mozart on the right. Rest in peace, little buddy who loved table scraps as much as any dog.

I fully intended to write something about my great weekend but time got away from me and now I’m completely immersed in the Oscars. But I am indeed still alive!