grand girl

Elizabeth loves, loves, loves staying in a hotel, even if it's a cheap $30/night motel in rural south Carolina on our trip home from Florida. She thinks it's the fanciest thing ever and so spends a fair amount of time prancing about. So Monday night, even though she normally hates having her hair brushed, when getting ready for bed she carefully ran her brush through the front part of her hair before positioning her headband just so.

I stroked her hair and started to say how nice it was she used the brush a bit, when she pulled back and said, rather grandly, "do not touch the royal hair of........um, me."

When I later repeated the story to Rich (funny how he missed it in a small hotel room, but he was helping Andrew brush his teeth) she corrected me, "no, I said the royal hair of the princess!"

Indeed! Christmas may have been a bit too much of a princess explosion in these parts.

picky picky

Often on weekdays we make a quick scrambled egg for the kids, topped with cheese. Elizabeth often views the scrambled egg as a delivery vehicle for melted cheese, but she also mostly likes eggs, too, though she vastly prefers the scrambled eggs made by our babysitter to those made my me or Daddy.

On weekends, we have more elaborate breakfasts, and sometimes we have scrambled eggs with ham, onions, other vegetables, plus cheese.

So on Saturday, Elizabeth requested eggs for breakfast, but quickly added some instructions:

"But don't put any food in the eggs, Daddy!"

Count by 5s!

There's lots of singing in school, and this is a favorite song. You might have to turn volume way way up as the iphone doesn't do sound well. Ignore the stage mother prompts in the background. Who was that?

She freaking loves that head thing I got her for her birthday, but in her mind, it is equal to her other headbands, meaning she thinks she can wear it to school while daddy and I disagree. So it's an after school option. And the sunglasses? Well, she is a star.

I could do an entire post on what she's doing when she falls asleep. I cannot resist pulling out my iphone and snapping pictures. Maybe next week I'll put them all together in one post, but this is her later that night.

Smart

Well, that whole NaBloPoMo thing was a total bust, huh? I just never was able to get back into the swing of posting once I felt better. But I did keep up with reading my blogroll, and it is fun to catch up with bloggers on a more regular basis. So with any luck and perseverance (something that is not my strong suit), I'll be a more frequent poster in December, and my blog readers will be so happy to have some content I'll get a ton of comments, right? I am going to backdate posts on Awwwclutter as I still am sorting through my shoes and did manage to wear (and buy!) shoes, so much to write there.

So I'll leave you with a little story I was planning to post right before I got sick.

Elizabeth had a soccer class Wednesdays at 5pm during September and October. Two rain dates meant two makeup days after Daylight Savings Time ended, which meant they played in the dark - literally in the dark - for the two makeups. The night before the first makeup, I thought I had a learning moment when we could discuss the change in seasons, length of daylight, and daylight savings time. Elizabeth, of course, had another idea.

Me: So, have you noticed this week it's getting dark earlier? Tomorrow you will have soccer practice after school and it will be dark for practice!
E: Yes, why is it so much darker?
M (gathering thoughts, realizing am unprepared and can't decide if I want to tackle change of season, the earth's rotation and tilt, or daylight savings, or exactly where to start): Well.....you see....
E (excitedly): I know! God is SMART.
M: um, yes, yes God is smart.
E: He controls all the holidays. So, he says to........um (thinking)....Mrs God, do you want it to be cold for the holiday? And then he does it. And that's how they do it. God and Mrs God are very smart.
M (realizing I have been beat): yes, yes they are.

No like

It's happened. We've made the leap from generally correct spoken English to picking up habits of speech. And it just happened this week.

Here for example, is what happened to Elizabeth at school today, verbatim: "well, I was like doing an art project and bent down when my paper like fell on the ground and when I stood back up I like banged my head on the desk."

AAAAUUUUGGGHHHH. Seriously, I did not think this started at this age! But Rich and I both say it (though generally not 3 times in one sentence), and, like, you know, it's not the worst bad speech mannerism she could pick up, you know?

We'll keep our eyes and ears on this.

Meanwhile, said sentence explains why she came home with a "head injury report" from school today, but all appears fine. School seems to be going well these days - I think we did just have a hurdle to overcome, and now things have settled down. Fingers crossed it like stays like ok.

It's Her World

It's Elizabeth's world, we're just living in it. A recent sampling:

From last night:
Elizabeth, looking at a picture of an ad on my computer: Who’s that lady? My sister?
Me: what?
E: No, Aggie (our deceased dog) is my real sister
M: What about Harrison? (Our cat)
E: Harrison is my real brother
Daddy: What about Andrew?
E: Andrew is my assistant

--
When my sister was about Elizabeth's age, she developed another persona. She popped out the dark lenses on a pair of sunglasses, and when she put those on, she was no longer JB, average 4 year old, she was JenniWilson, secretary (and how fun when I went to college to befriend someone with that same name!). She spoke in a lofty, haughty tone and carried herself in an entirely different way. Elizabeth has developed her own fake persona voice, though right now there's no alternate person, just the voice. You must read the exchange below in your haughtiest voice.

This morning, trying to get her to get dressed, I showed her at least 3 tops that she grandly rejected before accepting the fourth. Then, the shorts:

Me: How about these, they match.
E: No. No, those shorts are not good. They are too strong (I think she meant stiff?) for me to pull my panties out of my butt.

--
I went through a pile of papers I had gathered up and found a sticky note where I had jotted two words: brown and stylish. And so was reminded of a story from a few months ago, one night eating dinner.

E: general chatter about one of her friends at school, one we weren't sure we knew
Daddy: What does he look like?
E: He looks like President Obama. Brown and stylish.

Things I Want to Know, 2

Why in the world is Elizabeth so desperate to have a DNA test?

heartbreak

(This is really Rich's story, but not sure he will get to it before we forget)

Monday night, mommy doing dishes, daddy doing bathtime. The usual battle going on upstairs over the hairwashing. When suddenly:

Daddy: OK, I'm going to pour on the water, cover your eyes
Elizabeth: No!!! No water! No!!!
D: Here it comes, 1,2,3 (pour)
E: Screams and sobs
E: (sobbing) Daddy, you broke my heart!

I come upstairs after bath is over (I'm no dummy um, there were a lot of dishes!) to be met by a sniffling Elizabeth, who tells me, Daddy broke my heart. After a few cuddles and the rest of the evening routine, all appears forgiven.

The next morning, Elizabeth bounds into our room.

Elizabeth: Daddy, do you like me?
D: Of course. Always.
E: (sly smile) My heart is fixed!

And with that she throws herself into Daddy's arms.

Sweetpea turns 4!

My baby girl. She's 4 today. She's getting so big, so "kid like." Maybe it's the school (one of these days I will find out what she eats for lunch) and the fact that she got her first ever homework assignment this week (yikes!).

Maybe it's her growing interest in music and her ability to recognize and request songs. (It's a good thing I like "Beat It" and "Thriller")

Maybe it's the random quotations from her favorite TV shows. (looks in the pack & play tonight and exclaims "What the deuce?!?!" Thanks Penguins of Madagascar)

Maybe it's the drawings she says are of me and, yeah, I can see how they resemble me now.

Maybe it's the times she actually does listen to me. And when she demonstrates something I've told her before. And when she tailors our routines to suit her without losing the intent of the routine. (She makes me close my eyes while she brushes her teeth. Of course, I peek...)

Maybe it's that she's gone somewhat Mommy-centric lately. (Feels like it's been weeks since I've been asked to cuddle with her at bedtime.) I do still get the middle-of-the-night requests though. Yippee. Well, at least it's something.

Maybe it's the "I want to do it" -- and she actually does.

Here's some birthdays through the years:

She may never know the profound effect she's had on me. How she challenges me in ways I never thought I'd be challenged. How I've had to learn and grow with her. How she makes me want to be the best Daddy a little girl could have.

When does a little girl stop needing her Daddy? Not anytime soon, I hope.

Happy Birthday, Baby Girl.

- Rich

If sleep is for the weak...

...then Andrew is one strong baby. To recap, last night we were all beat after the first day of school and the morning craziness. We have never, and I mean ever, all been fed, dressed, cleaned, teethbrushed, and out the door by 8:30 am before. And even then, I forgot Elizabeth might need something to drink in the morning so pushed a cup of milk on her as we walked out the door and onto the front porch for pics. (pics soon!) Oh, right, and Andrew was only partially fed, clutching a half eaten pancake in his fist in the stroller as we walked to school.

So, after all that, you'd think last night we'd all be pretty tired, right? Well, mommy and daddy were definitely tired. Andrew was up at 1:30 for a quick feed and rocking, but down again quickly, back in the co-sleeper. Then at 2:30, screams and cries from Elizabeth's room. I stumbled into her room, but stopped at the door - I could hear her crying but she wasn't in bed! Rounding the bed I found her trying to stuff herself under. When I hauled her out, still wailing, I tried to calm her and asked why she was trying to get under the bed. "It seemed like the right thing to do!" she sobbed. I stayed with her 15 minutes or so as she sobbed and whimpered. I tried to slip away once she seemed asleep, but she clutched at me in her sleep, still upset. Finally made it back to bed, only to be awakened by Andrew, up again at 4:30 am. He nursed again, but instead of falling asleep, we tussled and fought for a good while, me thinking he'd give up and fall asleep, him ready to party. Finally I gave up, and we went downstairs a little before 6. Ouch. Elizabeth and Rich were out the door by 8:30, with just a few struggles, and Andrew finally went down - for 30 minutes. According to Gee, our nanny, he didn't nap the rest of the day. We think it's the top teeth, but whatever it is, we hope this is a phase that'll be over soon. Because Rich and I are weak, and we are tired.

Day 2 went well. Except, I thought I'd pick Elizabeth up from school, but since Andrew wasn't napping, Gee and Andrew went to pickup. And when Elizabeth spotted Gee, she burst into tears. As Gee said, it was pretty embarrassing.

We didn't get much of a school report today. Yesterday, Elizabeth had relayed a lot of the day, and was especially taken with the school lunch process. Mommy, there was a man, and he gave me a hotdog, and beans, and watermelon! This morning I told Elizabeth she would eat lunch at school today and it would be something different, which she rejected with a flat no. No, the man will give me a hotdog and beans and watermelon, that's what he has. Yes, I said, the man would have something new, supposedly tacos. She later said it was tacos, but she only ate one. Who knows what really happened.

Given how unreliable a narrator she is, a few months ago I started asking her at cuddle time what her favorite thing had been that day, trying to get her to remember events and tell them back to me. Tonight she said going to school was her favorite thing. Also tonight I asked her what her middle name was and she said, well, I'm not a building. I tried to press her on what type of building Sadie was, but she wouldn't say. So still stumped on that one.

Then:
E: Why did you get married with Daddy?
M: We loved each other and so we got married.
E: Well, I love Andrew. When I grow up I'm going to get married with Andrew. (Married with is her construct.)
M: Hmmm, you know, brothers and sisters don't marry each other. When you grow up, you'll meet someone you love and then you'll get married.
E: Why do I have to grow up? I'm just a kid. I want to just be a kid.

(Semi) Wordless Wednesday

"Tipsie Roll"

(Oh, I wish. How I wish.)

(for me, not for her!)

(Kidding. Mostly.)

laughing

Elizabeth and I spend a lot of time with Andrew in one pursuit: "get him to smile at me, Mommy!" Yesterday, during the day, I said to her, "I think Andrew might have dimples." "Dimples? What are dimples?" So I explained, with some difficulty, that they were little dents in his face when he smiled, but he was still so chubby with a baby face we might not see them if he has them, but maybe they were there.

So last night at dinner, Elizabeth made some faces at Andrew which caused him to break into his wide-mouthed grin.

"Look Daddy!" she shrieked. "Andrew has nipples!"

- Susan

OMG

A conversation from last night:

E: This boy baby is so cute!
Daddy: Yes, he is. Please be gentle (our newest mantra, repeated endlessly)
E: But where's the girl baby?
D: The girl baby?
E: Yes, Mommy had the boy baby and now where's the girl baby?
Mommy: [sob!]

[Dora's twin brother and sister made quite an impact on her]

- Susan

Big sister

This morning at 7 am

E: Mommy, can I hold the baby? Can I Mommy? Please can I hold the baby?
M: Um, ok. (careful set up)
E: Mommy, this baby is very cute.
M: Yes, he is.
E: Mommy, Andrew is very, very cute.
M: He is, Sweetie, actually he looks like you when you were a baby.
E: Mommy, he is so cute. What store did you get him from, Mommy?

hanky-bank

So who knows how her mind works. But, we don't give piggy back rides in our house. Nope. Hanky-bank. Her choice, her words.

And no, sadly Mommy is not giving any hanky-bank or other types of rides these days, nor in the near future.

emones

The other morning Elizabeth had a minor freak out. I want emones. Where are the emones? EMONES! (pronounced like anemones, with the a-nem changed to just em: em-o-knees!!!!)

I tried asking - what do you want? EMONES! In increasing decibels, force, and enunciation of each nonsensical syllable.

I tried the whole, I don't understand you, what do you mean? No luck.

She's actually pretty verbally adept, so it sometimes work if we say, describe what you mean. She gained a measure of control and thought for a second - remember, I dropped them yesterday?

Oh! Right! M&Ms! She found a bag of M&Ms I had bought after Halloween and spilled part of the bag the day before (and scored some M&Ms). And now was demanding more. For breakfast, no less.

I gave her 5 emones today - she proceeded to lie them up with the imprinted M turned sideways and said, look mommy, all e's. All E's for Elizabeth.

So tell me, do you make a new family word out of cute toddler pronunciation, or do you teach the right word?

Or, better yet, maybe I stop buying day after holiday cheap candy. My weakness!

nice football players?

Somehow with NaBloPoMo, recent posts have been more about me than the Sweetpea. So just a short blurb today.

Between Halloween, a football trip to Charlottesville, and daylight savings, we had quite the interrupted weekend of sleep. Saturday night, Rich and I were, what else, watching a college football game when she popped awake - wide awake - at 10 pm. She wanted a drink, so for the first time ever we let her come downstairs and sit with us for 30 minutes or so to let her finish some milk and get a little drowsier before putting her back down.

So she cuddled between us, chatty and happy, and watched some football. Mommy, did that man get hurt? And indeed, there was an injury on a play. I explained that, and she asked if tackling hurt players, so I tried to explain they wore pads and big uniforms and to watch, when they were tackled they got right back up. And then I started some play-by-play with her - see, the man is about to get the ball, now he's going to throw it, and that man will get tackled.....

The whistle blew, and players stepped out of formation. She said, what happened?

I explained they called a time out.

Oh, she said. Were they not being very nice?

Talk Like...

I do imitations. Probably started when I was a kid and used to like watching Rich Little do Richard Nixon among other imitations. I've used this to my advantage to entertain/distract Elizabeth, break down her stubbornness, and gently guide her to do what I want her to do. Well, that's what I *used* to be able to do.

Now, in the words of Susan, Daddy has become Sweetpea's little "trained monkey."

It probably started when she was about 18 months old or maybe even younger. (What's that about the days are long but the years are short?) She would hand me her stuffed panda and say with excited anticipation "Talk-a-panda!" And Panda would talk to Sweetpea (with a Chinese accent since they are native to China after all) and Sweetpea would talk to Panda. Then it was "Talk-a-Ernie" and "Talk-a-Bert. And "Talk-a-Big Bird". And "Talk-a" random teddy bears. And "Talk-a" plastic fish.

I began to wonder if my little girl ever wanted to hear Daddy's normal voice again or if I was destined to a life of falsettos, baritones, and varied accents in communicating with my daughter.

But the piece d'resistance had to be the anthropomorphism of the Cutie-jamas.

Shortly after turning 2 and outgrowing her 18 mo pajamas, Susan bought two cute pair of pajamas. Said pajamas are displayed below.



In case they are difficult to read, the pair on the left say "Cutie" and the ones on the right say "Pretty." I really liked these pajamas and when it was cool enough, I tried to get E to wear them. She didn't exactly share Daddy's enthusiasm for the pajamas, rejecting the Cutie pair in particular. After a few weeks of this, I figured that if I could not properly present the case for her to wear the pajamas, maybe they could do it themselves.

And so were born Cutie-jamas and Pretty-jamas.

I gave Cutie-jamas somewhat of a little boy's voice and Pretty-jamas a sweet girl, if for no other reason than the Pretty-jamas are pink.

I think the first exchange went something like this:

Daddy: OK, Sweetpea, time to put on the pajamas.
Sweetpea: No! I don't want to wear those!
Daddy: Oh, come on, Elizabeth. They're so cute!
Sweetpea: No! Ahhhhhh!
Daddy: Oh, poor Cutie-jamas. They're sad.
Sweetpea: [silence, with an excited look]
Daddy: Poor poor Cutie-jamas. They just want to be worn. Will you wear them tonight?
Sweetpea: [softly] No.
Daddy: [pauses, looks at the pajamas, holds the shirt up in front of Elizabeth]
Cutie-jamas: Hi, Sweetpea. I'm Cutie-jamas. Will you wear me tonight?
Sweetpea: [with a look of delight and fascination that has since not been duplicated] Hi, Cutie-jamas!
Cutie-jamas: Oh, please, Sweetpea. Will you wear me tonight? It would make me so happy.
Sweetpea: [smiling] No.
Cutie-jamas: Oh, boo-hoo. I'm so sad. Sweetpea won't wear me tonight. [slight sobbing] Well, I guess I'll go back in the drawer. Will you wear me?
Sweetpea: Ok.
Cutie-jamas: Oh, yay! That makes me so happy! Sweetpea is going to wear me tonight!
Sweetpea: [shouting] I'm going to wear you tonight Cutie-jamas!

[Daddy hurriedly dresses Sweetpea in the pajamas and ends the dialogue]

Subsequent occasions yielded differing dialogues, but the basic principle was that, if Sweetpea didn't wear the Cutie-jamas, the Cutie-jamas got sad. And this delighted E - I guess it was her way of wielding some sort of power. Usually, she would give in before I put the pajamas away. Other nights she just wanted to make Cutie-jamas sad and wore something else. Either way it added a little fun to the bedtime routine.

Pretty-jamas came in to give Cutie-jamas a rival. E picked up on it right away and would play one off the other - at first usually picking Pretty over Cutie, but, more recently, jumping right to Cutie. It's gotten so that when I ask her the question "What pajamas would you like to wear tonight?", E would jump up and down and shout "Cutie-jamas!" If Cutie was dirty, she'd yell "Pretty-jamas!" She no longer seems interested in making them sad. Now she just seems to like them.

Some other examples of the Cutie-/Pretty-jamas saga:

- Early on, I thought Cutie-jamas should exercise some influence by saying "You will wear me tonight!" and tossing the shirt on E's head. This caused some serious shrieking and a look of horror from E. Needless to say, the Cutie-jamas have not gone on the attack since.

- I'd pull the pajamas out of the drawer and wouldn't start talking like them right away, to which Sweetpea would shout "Talk like Cutie-jamas!". And so it would start. "What are you doing, Cutie-jamas?" "No, I won't wear you Cutie-jamas" with a devilish little grin.

- E made the connection between Cutie and Pretty by saying that they were "twins" and then were "friends."

I have no idea what will happen when she finally outgrows these pajamas. Haven't really thought that far ahead. Pretty-jamas had a little accident the other week when we allowed E to "help" stain a wood stair railing while wearing said jamas. Now they're a little spotted.

The other area where E expects Daddy to perform is to do various Muppet voices. I specialize in Kermit, Miss Piggy, Fozzy Bear (not so good), Rowlf, Dr. Bunsen Honeydew, and, of course, Beaker. She usually expects me to roll from one right into the other. After several weeks of this (we first saw the Muppet Movie back in July), my vocal chords are taking quite a beating.

"Talk like Kermit the Frog!"
"Hi Ho! Well, hello there, Sweetpea."
"Hi Kermit the Frog!" "Talk like Miss Piggy!" "Talk like Fozzie Bear!" "Talk like Rowlf!" "Talk like Dr. Bunsen Honeydew!" "Talk like Beaker!"

The requests usually come around bath time. So far it's an effective distraction. All I can say is that I have *tremendous* respect for Jim Henson and Frank Oz.

I charge $20/hr and am available for all kids' parties.

- Rich

Last night at dinner

E: *burp* (giggle giggle giggle)
Mommy: [disapproving stare, eyebrows raised for the polite phrase that's supposed to come next]
E: Is it funny?
M: [shakes head no]
E: Excuse me! Is it funny now?!
M: (giggle) Yes, yes it is!

I'm Sweetpea, and I approved this message

1) We watch too much TV
2) Virginia is clearly in play, with at least one political commercial every TV break.


She just started doing this out of the blue yesterday, no prompting from anyone. Ok, so technically, today she did the same for the other guy, too, but you know what? Rich can put up that video.
- Susan