Brinley: The Wise

Let's introduce Brinley. Affectionately known around the house as Brinley Bear, Sugar Bear, or the Fat One. She was born on New Year's Eve of 2008, 5 days past her due date at 8 pounds, 7 ounces. We hoped that this one would be a chill kid unlike her sister. (Emmy was born 2 weeks early, and has been balls-to-the-wall ever since.) We realized at about a year, that this one just liked to bide her time. She carefully watches and waits, smiling, until the perfect moment to strike. If she doesn't happen to get her way, she pushes out the perfect, pout of a bottom lip and executes an ideal boo-boo face that any baby, toddler, teenager, professional athlete, celebrity or politician could be proud of. The kid is conniving. Right now, it's cute. Later, probably annoying. As she grows and perfects her skills, a career in the CIA or as an international jewel thief might be in the cards.

Brinley is clearly the smartest 19 month old on the planet. We've taught her a few sign language skills to help us communicate with her until she can spit out all the words that spin wildly in her head. She cups her hand and spins it back and forth for "drink". She reaches out and yells at us when she's ready for "more". She also takes herself to the pantry and throws Cheerios all over the floor for "eat". Exceeding our expectations, she has come up with a few all by herself. While waiting for Emmy to go down the slide, Brin grew impatient and bit her in the back. First, we scolded her. After it happened a second time, we recognized that this is her sign for "hurry up and get your butt down that slide". We encouraged her to find a less painful way to get her point across. Another favorite of mine, Mike named "no bones". In an effort to let us know that she would rather not be carried, she hurls her arms over her head, throws her head back, arches her back, and goes completely limp. To be sure, it's an awkward way to carry a child.

Brinley is a beautiful little girl with perfect features on her petite face. A sweet, tiny voice that's a joy to wake up to in the morning as long as it's after 7:00 am. Any time before that, Mike and I both lie awake, pretending to sleep wondering if the other will suck it up and go take care of whatever it is she needs. This little game of pacing our breathing and being very still usually lasts about 10 minutes before one of us breaks down and pitches a little fit. Sometimes we get lucky and she puts herself back to sleep. Then we're both off the hook. She's learned that by wrapping her arms around her father, patting his back with her tiny hand and nuzzling in on his neck, he will rock her for several minutes. I'll admit it. It works on me as well. An excellent stalling tactic. Her sister perfected the puppy dog eyes, and she has this. We just hope she uses her powers for good and not evil.