Tidbits and Timbits

Driving in the car with my mom and sister.  Dead silent.  Eirinn, out of nowhere:

“Everybody has a head.”

This is so true, it blows my mind.


Sitting down, presented with a special treat dessert of two Timbits.  Carefully examining one.

“Bubba?  This is perfect.”

a) Where did she learn the word ‘perfect’?  b) I am choked up with brilliance of this child.  Yes, Baby Eirinn, doughnuts are perfect.


Eirinn is now taking Flinstone vitamins.  Did you know they have a whole line of vitamins based on the category of fussiness your child fits into?  I did not but I think it’s genius!  Eirinn is in the Doesn’t Consume Dairy category.  She also fell into the other categories, but not as consistently as she fell into Kids Who Don’t Drink Milk Good.

She’s (mostly) off the bottle now, although she teeters on the edge of the wagon at Bubba’s house for nap time (but that’s ok ’cause sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do to get the kid to sleep).  And because she is who she is, milk in a cup or a sippy cup is remarkably offensive and, when it’s offered, she immediately wants us to ‘clean it’.  As in ‘You’ve soiled my precious, pure water with a vile white liquid, you inconsiderate, disrespectful moron’.  Shame on us and shame on those who allowed this to happen.

She likes yogurt but we would need to feed her 7 a day in order for her to get her recommended daily calcium intake.  The vitamins have 1/4 of what she needs.  Which is great.  I was worried she would grow up to be a toothless shrimp with bendy, brittle bones. 

So now, every morning, she takes her “medicine”, the same as Mommy and Daddy.  She doesn’t mind them.  In fact, she kind of likes them.  The only problem so far is keeping her from overdosing.  (Back off trolls; we’ve only ever given her one a day.  She just wants more, more, more.)


Have I ever mentioned how little hair Eirinn has?  I mean, it’s really quite sad.  She just recently can brag about technically having a full head of hair, but only in the most liberal sense.  Yes, there are hair follicles sprouting nearly everywhere they should be.  But, wow.  She’ll be two next Friday and I would guesstimate that the majority of 6 month olds have a great deal more than her.  The stuff at the sides, right at her temples, is still just newborn fluff.  And that’s because it is newborn hair.

The hair coming in looks like it has the potential to be very pretty.  It is a nice medium to dark blonde with natural subtle highlights.  It’s curly at the back but I think that will relax over time and settle on slightly wavy (like her Mommy).  And it’s also very shiny, which makes me want to shave off what little she has and crazy glue it on top of my own head.

On one hand I’m anxious for her to grow her hair so I can put it in a pony tail or, as my dad calls them, Zeep-Zorps (pig tails).  On the other more dominant and strongly opinionated hand (probably my right; my left is useless for anything other than balance), I’m glad she’s still a bit of a baldy.  It means some days we can get away without brushing because who would notice?  Also she still looks like my little Baby Eirinn, even though she’ll be two next week and already knows that everyone has a head and that doughnuts are natures perfect fruit.


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Tornado Eirinn

The life and times, trials and tribulations, crimes and punishments, lessons learned and scores settled by my daughter, Eirinn, AKA The Tornado.

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When I Wrote

February 2008
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