funny things

“Just one more to go” an oft repeated phrase ever since we installed the baseboards in the kitchen. (more than a year since the update was completed, ahem!) Helper Caroline stood over her sweaty father banging away on the wall with her play rolling pin; the closest thing to a real hammer she could find. We kept telling her that Daddy was almost done and when Steve looked over at her and said, “Just one more to go." It stuck.

“What’s wrong??” said with genuine empathic concern including scrunched up eyebrows. Most often said to nameless bathtime baby who has become her sidekick. I went out and found two doll-sized onesies for her because the public nudity was more than I could handle. She picks her up, looks right into her face and says, “what’s wrong???” before hugging her tight and kissing her head.

“Where you going Mommy?” While she snacks away on goldfish in the backseat she has started asking me where I’m driving. I always give her the plan of any outing while I zip her coat (in JUNE! Blech, rain rain go away!). She wants another run through of the overall plan of attack in the car. Between Stops. On our way home. I think she just wants to know when we are on our way home because that is when she dictates to me using her fingers to count on, “eat soup, watch Sleepin’ Booty, more juice.”

“Be careful!” While I’m driving, while I’m climbing the stairs, to her baby doll as she hoists her up onto the counter. I know I say this to her all the time. Nothing wrong with her being conscious of the many lurking dangers of our house right?

“Daddy took my George away.” We had some meltdowns yesterday afternoon. It was another one of those “I don’t feel like stopping my playtime to eat lunch days.” I managed to convince her to eat ¼ of a grilled cheese, a few bites of my reheated AMAZING ATK burger, and some hummus. By mid afternoon she was hungry and irritable. When Steve got home she was so cantankerous that she needed a time out in her crib and he must have removed all her toys from her bed when he put her in. In her defense, it was a really busy day yesterday preparing for our Vineyard trip (we could leave TONIGHT if we had to!) At bedtime she looked up at me sweetly and said, “Daddy took my George away.” It took me a few seconds to realize she was talking about her earlier time out.

“In my kitchen!” I hate to waste glasses. Don’t you? I try to use the same glass all night/all day. Post dinner I was hunting around for my glass and I asked Steve if he had seen it because OK fine I was accusing him of putting it in the dishwasher. He doesn’t share my glass wasting views. Caroline started saying, “In my kitchen! In my kitchen!” and sure enough, there it was sitting on the counter of her kitchen. She had brought it over from god knows where. Steve and I shared a “she’s listening to everything we say” moment.


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