We took C off the milk boppies about three weeks ago now, I guess, or was it longer? I knew that it was time, and I was looking forward to fewer milk spills and a more well-rounded diet, but there have been some other really cool benefits, too, such as going been nearly a week since I’ve been to the grocery store.

When C was a milk addict, I always had to keep the fridge stocked. I went to the grocery store three times a week at least just to keep the milk in the fridge. And some of those trips were at hours when I should’ve by all rights been asleep. It’s at least 3 times easier to give her water than to give her milk.

And we are still trying to give her milk, just not in bottles. But she steadfastly refuses. Even though she was a certified milk addict, she doesn’t seem to actually like milk.

I get that.

I got off the phone with Katie this morning, while I was on my way to work, and C said “that’s my mama! I like her.”

Katie spent the night in Nashville last night after a conference, so the kids and I had a mama-free night (pizza and tv, even though it was a school night!). We all missed Katie, but we banded together to try to distract C, who couldn’t understand why her mom wasn’t there.

I wonder what C’s life would be like if she could choose. I think she’d have all of her loved ones in one room watching Nick Jr.

C just called me her best friend. She was going downstairs with my mom and said “daddy’s my best friend!”

I just want to take note of this. It’s January 4, 2010, C is 2 and almost a half, and I am her best friend.

So apparently it’s been a while since I’ve written anything. I’m not really sure what the deal is with that, because I’ve had a lot to write about. I guess I’ve just been stressed in too many directions and haven’t allowed my creativity to flow. I don’t write for my job, although I would have if I’d followed my college path (history, psychology, and an English minor thrown in for good measure), therefore while writing is something I enjoy, I have to shift mental tracks to do it. And sometimes when I am just planning out a post or two, Katie beats me to it.

So yeah. Since I wrote last, C stopped drinking milk boppies. We found out Katie is pregnant. We had Christmas. And Katie has been incredibly sick with “morning” sickness, to the point that I have had a lot of one-on-one time with the toddler, who clearly would rather spend time with mama instead of dad. I’ve been having a lot of fires in my fireplace, which makes me sleepy, and I tend to want to be in bed this time of year at nine.

And it’s almost my birthday. So there’s that. I’m desperately trying to convince my amazing, wonderful, supremely talented, totally awesome wife to get me the new and totally awesome Google Nexus One, not in stores until next week. I keep sending her pestering emails about every latest update.

So if you want me to write more, you should help me by pestering her, too. Just leave a comment or send her an email and tell her how much I deserve the cool new phone. I didn’t get coal in my stocking this year (thank goodness), so maybe there’s hope.

C: I neeeeed that!!
Me: No, that’s just for looks.
C: But I neeeeeed looks!

I was just looking through some family photos for a picture of myself for an avatar (hello, string of prepositional phrases!), and I am realizing that I am only rarely in a photo by myself. I suppose it’s because I’m the one with the camera. But I did run across this rather amusing picture, taken when C was about 75 days old. I guess the camera caught me by surprise?

I don’t know where it came from, but last night  C called me “Daddy Bird.” She’s been in a really cuddly, cute, wonderful phase lately, and I can’t tell you how wonderful it is. So she was giving me a big hug right before I put her to bed, and she said “I love you, Daddy Bird.”

This morning, I was goofing off with C and wearing her Nemo hat, and it wasn’t so out-of-the-blue for her to call me “Daddy Nemo,” but it was fun.

The so-called terrible twos are marked by fit pitching and screaming stubbornness. Just a minute ago, C flopped on the floor beside me, crying fake tears because I couldn’t make Wonder Pets magically arrive on the television on her demand. But now – 60 seconds later – she is standing in the middle of the room, singing some unknown song at the top of her lungs.

And it’s best for her to learn now that she won’t always get what she wants, believe me. She will get much less sympathy later in life.

There are some unpleasantries to the terrible twos, but most of it is wonderful, and that’s the way I’ll always remember it. You can keep your terrible twos; I’ll stick to the too cute twos, thankyouverymuch.

I’m not sure whom she was talking to, but it wasn’t me. Very likely it was her foot or hand.

First we need mama to get the remote, then I can watch wonder pets in my little bed. We’ll be right back, ok?

Let’s go wake mama up and get Wonderpets. Then I’m going to put my glove on and get Wonderpets.

My parents don’t have any video of me as a child, and I can honestly say I’m fine with that. So maybe it won’t matter much to C some day that I haven’t been able to capture every little cuteness on video. But it still matters to me. I know I will miss this cute toddler phase when it’s over, but what really bothers me is knowing that there will be things that will be totally lost to time – things that could be saved forever (for me if not for her) if only I’d had a camera rolling a little more often or at just the right time.

For several weeks, C liked to say “How about that, Dad? How about that?” But now I’m the one saying “How about that, C, how about that?” in hopes that she will say it, too. So it was on the way to work this morning that I said “How about that, Charley Pie, how about that?” Her response?

“I’m a pie!!!”