Back off, Mister. Step away from the truck...

He was twice her size, and probably thrice her age. But this did not keep my toddling, wisp of a girl from standing her ground. We had met our friends Jill and Georgia (6 months) at the Fitness Center. After months of intense mommy guilt and separation anxiety (mostly mine), Anne is finally happy to roam about the playroom, exploring the new toys. This morning, I set her down and pulled out a couple of trucks from a bin, trying to interest her in something before I sprinted out of sight. Anything to avoid a crying scene. Anne immediately reached for the small vehicle and pulled out another one. Meanwhile, another little (but much bigger) boy appears over Anne's shoulder, also interested in the trucks. "Look baby," I say to Anne. "You have someone to play with." What does my darling girl do? Without taking her attention away from her new favorite toy, she holds out her arm, chubby palm extended in 'Talk to the hand' fashion, shunning her new playmate. With an odd mixture of embarassment and pride, I say to the playroom worker nearby, "Well, I guess she can hold her own!" We'll work on the sharing bit. I recently asked Charles whether he thinks Anne knows she is small. He said she probably thinks we're big. All I know is that there is a whole lotta person in that tiny, pretty package.

She delighted us on her first Valentine's Day by playing peek-a-boo for the first time, during dinner. Having apparently enjoyed her fill of Vegetable Fried Rice, she started tapping her head with both hands. This is the universal sign of toddler boredom during mealtime. Well, perhaps it isn't universal, but in the Schultz household, it means, "Time to run the bath: Baby is smearing food in her hair." Daddy and mommy have been demonstrating peek-a-boo for some time now. Last night, the tapping of the head became the covering of the eyes. "Where is Annie?" And then all manner of giggles as she removed her hands from her baby blues and anticipated our loud response, "PEEK! There she is!" Anne's other favorite activity lately is pulling food out of the pantry and pointedly thrusting the box of Cheerios or carton of raisins at us, asking for a snack. I want to personally thank whoever invented Cheerios. They get us through mealtime, home from gym, transitioned into child care, you name it. Do they ever stop loving those tiny, little O's? She even made a noteworthy effort to say, 'Cheerio,' the other day. She also tried to say, 'Caden,' when she saw her friend's picture, but it came out, 'Cay.' Not bad, baby.