Captain Demando

My baby's finally talking.  He's needed about 6 months of speech therapy to open up, but he's finally getting there.  I can't believe the progress he's making too.  He's not just saying words, but also answering questions.  On top of that, he's actually asking for things he needs.  Like tonight when we had a real conversation:

ChattyCharlie: I'm hungry. 
Awesomeness: You need some food?
ChattyCharlie: Want crackers.
Awesomeness: You want some crackers, buddy?
ChattyCharlie: NOOOOOOOOOOOOW!!!  NOOOOOOOOOOOOOW!!

Aw.  That's my baby.  My hungry, hungry, no cracker gettin' baby.

Is This A Trick?

I'm catching up on my reading when PatientPatty walks up and taps me on the shoulder.

PatientPatty: Mama.
Awesomeness: Yes, honey.
PatientPatty: Mama, can I wait for a little while?
Awesomeness: Um, what?  I don't think I heard you right.  What do you need?
PatientPatty: I want to wait for just a little while.
Awesomeness: Yeah....well, you can wait all you want.  Go play.

She does.  I get back to my reading.  Ten minutes later:

PatientPatty: Mama.
Awesomeness: Yes, Patty.
PatientPatty: Can I wait just a little while longer?
Awesomeness: Knock yourself out.
PatientPatty: I'm very good at waiting.
Awesomeness: Yes you are.

It's Really, Really Day

I worry about my girl sometimes.  She gets along okay in school, but she doesn't seem to enjoy it very much.  I figure I'm in trouble, since this is preschool, so the hardest thing she has to do all day is trace a Q with a crayon. She's also turning 5 this year, which means that Mr. A and I have a hard choice to make about whether to send her to Kindergarten in August or to give her one more year to work on her communication and focus.

Comments like this make me think we should wait:

Mama, school is really, really hard.

It made me sad to hear her say that today.  I asked if she was having trouble with her work, but she said, "No."  Was she having problems with the other kids?  "No, Mama, they're fine."

I'm positive that getting up at 6:30 in the morning is a drag, but she get's plenty of sleep, so I don't think that's it.  She and her brother are usually up around that time anyway.

I couldn't think of what else to ask her, so I just started worrying for her future filled with homework that didn't involve cutting and gluing squares.

Then I heard her say:

Mama, my guitar is really, really lost.

And then her brother grabbed her brand new sunglasses off of her face and demolished them faster than I could blink, which brought on:

Mama, my sunglasses are really, really broken!

What a relief!  She'll be fine.  It's just Really, Really Day.

A Star Is Born

This year we decided to get the kids Easter baskets that had more gifts they could trash my floor with enjoy and less candy for us them to eat.  What we ended up with was a pink basket with "rock star" themed toys for her (that he would totally play with) and a big truck basket for him (no seriously, it just had a truck in it...I'm not even sure why they bothered with the basket).

While TommyTruckMan is using his new truck as a roller skate, SallySuperStar has decided that today is the first day of her illustrious career as a rock star.

SallySuperStar: Mama, I can't wait to be a star.

Awesomeness: Well, what are you going to do to become a star?

SallySuperStar: I'm going to put on my sunglasses.

Awesomeness: And then what?

SallySuperStar: And then I will be a star!

If only it were that easy....

Now if I can get her brother to stop making this face in every picture, he may be able to join her:

CHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESE!

The only way I can get a normal picture of the kid is when I surprise him:

Happy Easter everyone!

Why I Will Never Eat Macaroni Again

Yesterday, SicklySuzie got sick.  All over the place.  I am generally useless in these situations, since I'm a sympathetic puker.  All I could do is sit across the room, try not to look at her and take shallow breaths until Mr. A got it all cleaned up.

This happens often enough that we have a special bucket that we pull out, just in case she's ready for another round and can't make it to the toilet.  After the episode, we gave it to her and reinforced that she should either use it or try to make it to the bathroom if she feels sick again.

A couple of minutes go by and Mr. A is just about done.  I venture a glance at Suzie and she's sitting on the couch, cross-legged and shirtless with a bucket between her legs.

She looks up and notices that I'm staring at her.

SicklySuzie: Mama, why I have this bucket?

That's my girl.

Awesomeness: Honey, you just had a megaton of puke come out of you.  You need the bucket in case there's some left.
SicklySuzie: Macaroni puke?  I have lots and lots of macaroni puke.
Awesomeness: No, sweetie, I said 'megaton' not 'macaroni.'
SicklySuzie: I have lots and lots and lots of macaroni puke.

This is the point where I've completely lost interest in ever eating macaroni again.

Then she had to keep going.

SicklySuzie: This bucket is for my throw ups.
Awesomeness: Yes, honey, that's why you have a bucket.
SicklySuzie: But we don't play with our throw ups.
Awesomeness:  Uh....
SicklySuzie: Playing with throw ups is BLEEEEEEEHHHHH!

Ugh.

The Life of a Guinea Pig

How GretaGuineaPigExpert found out about guinea pigs is anyone's guess, but tonight she gave me a complimentary guinea pig lesson.

GretaGPE: Mama, we need to go to the guinea pig store.

For whatever reason, she thinks that everything has its own store.

Awesomeness: What are we going to get at the guinea pig store?

Should be obvious, but what else am I talking about with a 4-year old?

GretaGPE: Well, we need to get a guinea pig.

Ah, so I was right.

Awesomeness: What do guinea pigs do?
GretaGPE: They poop in a cage.
Awesomeness: Okaaaaaay.  What else do they do?
GretaGPE: Um, nothing.  They just poop in a cage.

She's a smart cookie, because that does about sum them up.

This Is How We Do It

Earlier this evening, ClumsyCathy smashed her finger in a kitchen drawer.

ClumsyCathy: Ow!  Mama my finger is broken!

I inspected the finger and found it to be very not broken.

Awesomeness: Honey, your finger is fine.
ClumsyCathy: But Mama, I broke it.
Awesomeness: You know what happens to broken fingers right?
ClumsyCathy: What?
Awesomeness: We cut them off.  Are you ready?

I'm guessing the answer is no, because she ran away and still won't let me touch her.