GirlyGirl is almost 10 and a half months. Time flies when you are outnumbered by kids. Milestones are flying at us at a rate that is hard for this old man to keep up with. Just this week GirlyGirl went from zero teeth to three teeth and is not too happy about it. Her refusal to nap, one would think, would leave her cranky and bitter but that seems to only have affected her parents.

It’s hard not to compare but with the twins they were napping twice a day. Nice, long naps. Naps that meant Mommy and Daddy could have a little respite from babydom for just a little while. I was the only reason we showered, I think.

This one, however, has a mind of her own. Schedule? Nap? If I damn well say so, she says. It’s times like this that I have to remind myself that we chose to have this one.

Another milestone that is creeping up on us is crawling. She has been combat crawling for a number of weeks now but is clearly ready. However “clearly ready” to me is clearly not “clearly ready” for GirlyGirl. Her personality seems to be such that she is measured in what she does and will only attempt something new if she has practiced and practiced and practiced. The girl can climb stairs but won’t crawl on hands and knees.

In spite of the speed that we are traveling down baby #3, I am aware that I’m going to miss all the things I’m complaining about. Someday, too soon, she won’t need me to give her a bottle and rock her to sleep. Someday too soon, she’ll be almost seven, complete with attitude. Someday soon, she’ll call me Daddy and the little embraces I get will be a thing of the past.

Milestones are cool but I’ll take them a slower pace, please.

Swee’Pea, seeing the remnants of our old blender tucked away in the pantry, suddenly looks up at me as I tend the pancakes on the griddle. “Daddy, did you know you can get a Ninja Blender?”

Thinking there is a punchline to the joke forthcoming, I ask her to continue.

“Yes, while some blenders leave the nutrients of vegetables you blend behind, the Ninja Blender does not. And you know how much it costs? Not, $300. Not $200. Not even $100. You can buy it with four easy payments of $39.95.”

Hmmmm… Maybe her mother was right about limiting the amount of TV she watches (and maybe spend that time with her math skills).

But, damn, I think she’s right. I need that Ninja blender.

*(This is not an endorsement of this product. It’s a sure sign that my daughter is watching informercials instead of Nick Jr. Buy this product at your own risk. If you do buy this product, let me know how it works. I’m really interested.)

It’s Friday. Which means the favorite clothes have been worn and the kids are reduced to bargaining with their dad over what they can and cannot wear. Normally, this back and forth is with Swee’Pea. I have often said that I could hand TheMonk a garbage bag with holes for arms and a head and he’d put it on with no argument.

But not today.

It’s threatening rain here in paradise – so our normal shorts and t-shirt attire is out of the question. Unfortunately, the entire week has been a bit chilly and TheMonk has worn all of his pants. I am skeptical when he tells me he has no pants left so I check his drawer. Sure enough, there is one pair of jeans in the drawer.

I pull the stylishly faded jeans out and hand them to TheMonk. “But Daddy,” he says. “I don’t like those jeans. When I put them on, they squeeze my booty too much.”

Upon closer inspection, I realize that these jeans, bought with love by Grandmother, are tapered and would probably fall into the “skinny jean” category of fashion.

“Okay, Buddy.” I laugh. “Lets dig some jeans out of the hamper to wear. I don’t want your booty to be squeezed.”

Now let’s just hope he doesn’t learn of the sagging jean trend. Then I’m really in trouble.

She sits on the chair in her Sunday best.  The chaos around her is the rest of us rushing to get ready for church services on this Easter Sunday.  She is oblivious to the chaos, however, as she quietly reads her book.

The book was a gift from the Easter Bunny and it’s a chapter book about Fancy Nancy and some mysteries.  Swee’Pea has yet to put it down.  As we leave for church she implores me to allow her to bring the book along.  While we want her to start listening to the service more, I acquiesce and allow her to bring it along knowing there will be time to kill before mass.

She reads it in the car to church and on the way home.  As I prepare lunch she is fervently bent over the book and I announce that lunch is almost ready and that she should find a good spot to stop reading.  She tells me, with a proud smile, that she has only two more pages.  Lunch is ready but I tell her that I have a bit more to do before lunch is served.  She smiles and buries her head into her book for the final push while I wander around the kitchen pretending I have things to do.

With a flourish, she is finished.  She closes the book and approaches the table.  “I’m done, Daddy” she says.  And she was.  Thirteen chapters in half a day at six years old.  I’m amazed at how big she is getting and I smile at her and tell her how proud I am of her.

Then we sit down for egg salad sandwiches and she tells me about the book.  I hope it’s the first of many book reports.