Snippets June 26, 2011

This week’s assorted Baby Girl stories for your Sunday afternoon enjoyment:

• BG and I were leaving Publix, headed to the car. We had just run in to go to the bank, so we didn’t have any groceries or anything to carry and were just sort of meandering slowly through the parking lot. The car was parked right next to one of those concrete cutouts for the carts to be returned, and BG hopped up onto the curb (to her, all curbs are balance beams and must be walked on). Of course, she wanted to walk ALL THE WAY AROUND the rectangle shape once she started, so I was holding her hand and following her while she did so. This guy was trying to return his cart, and we got in his way a little, so I smiled at him, had her step aside, and joked to him, “Sorry, she just needs to finish out her little pattern here.” I swear these things are funny in my head. He sort of squinted at me and went on. We finished our pattern, he put his cart away, and I started buckling her into the backseat. He walked behind my car to get to his, and I watched him notice this magnet on my trunk:

 

           So, the guy comes back around to me and practically shouts, “OH!” at me. He gives me this HUGE smile and an emphatic head-nod (and  maybe even a thumbs-up, I can’t remember because I was trying so hard to contain myself once I realized what he was about to comment on), and it was taking so much mental effort not to bust out laughing that I couldn’t even correct him. I got as far as, “OH! Well, no, that’s actually not…I mean, she doesn’t…” before I just decided to go with it, smile, and get myself in the car before I acted even more like a weirdo. I do want to keep going to that Publix, after all.  

• We just got a new pediatrician and went in for the first of what is so many vaccines I can’t even fathom it. Baby Girl was a champ and really put on a show for the doctor when she came in. The doctor was interacting with her and doing all those things that look like playing but are really attempts to check her developmental milestones when she accidentally said something that caused BG to launch into a monologue of epic proportions. The poor doctor was just trying to get a little language sample, of course. Eventually, she looked over at me and said,”If I just check ‘advanced’ for language skills and show that to her, will she stop talking?”  Um, no, she will not, but nice try!
• Baby Girl has started doing something that I do ALL THE BLESSED TIME. I know it’s irritating and that it confuses people to no end, but I really can’t help it (I promise!). Andrew calls it “mid-stream” thinking. Basically, I’ll be having a dialogue or series of thoughts in my head and decide to start talking to someone about what I’m thinking, but I just start the actual out-loud part with whatever sentence or question I was just thinking, without giving the other person any context or introduction. Just one of the many joys that is life with me, right? Anyway, BG and I were driving yesterday and she asked me, “Why does God talk to She-Ra and not to me?” After playing 20 questions for a while, I figured out that she has attributed the big, booming voice used on the 1985 She-Ra series she’s watching (thank you, Netflix Instant!) to God, and she wants to know why she doesn’t ever hear anything like that. Any answers?
• The giant Diego doll is still around, and he’s still right-hand man second only to White Bear. She typically pretends that she’s married to him and that they’re headed off on some adventure featuring baby jaguars and using NOT INSIDE VOICES.  Yesterday, BG marched into the kitchen and announced to us that Diego used to be her prince and then her husband, but now he has changed into her baby and her son.

 

             And IT WAS LIKE MY BRAIN FILTER SHUT DOWN, and I just raised my eyebrow and looked at Andrew (because I don’t like peace and harmony in my house, apparently). SOMETIMES THE JOKES JUST WRITE THEMSELVES, PEOPLE.  Don’t worry–I apologized immediately.

Preview of Cooking Club (Thai night) April 14, 2011

I haven’t finished with the other photos, but here’s a personal favorite from Friday night:

 

Of COURSE. Nine-year-olds suffocate from mangoes all the time.

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Wait. We didn’t use this, so I just now looked up what this stuff actually is:

Nata de Coco is a chewy, translucent, jelly-like substance produced by the bacterial fermentation of coconut water.

Okay. I can see how you might choke on THAT. Mockery partially withdrawn.

Snippets April 7, 2011

I just walked into the kitchen and found Baby Girl STANDING on the bar-height part of the counter. What was she doing, you ask?

Well, she stole the little basket that normally houses the salt and pepper shakers, tied a shoelace to it, tucked some princesses in it, and was using it to help Cinderella and Snow White “get down off the mountain.”

Of course.

I realize this would make a lot more sense with a picture.

Can’t a girl go to the bathroom? ALONE?

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Also from today…

BG: Can we go to the pet store today?

Me (actually considering it): Well, we’re going to go to the park later, so we could probably…

BG: And get a PUPPY? A huge one?

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BG: When Daddy gets home…

(silence)

Me: Yes? When he gets home…

BG: Can we move to a new house TODAY when Daddy gets home? The one with all the pools? Puh-leeeeeze?

She’s talking about the condo we stayed at in FL last August. It had four pools and a lovely beach and she appears to be under the impression that we’re going to move there one day. Or, you know, today. I wish!

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BG: Can we go back outside??? We haven’t been outside in FIFTEEN YEARS!

Please note the back door is still wide open from when we came in, oh, about four minutes ago. I’m painting something on the back patio (that is NOT teal!), and she’s been using a rock to hammer nails into a cardboard box. Who needs toys?

You know what’s great? March 18, 2011

When you decide to test out someone’s sense of humor, and it turns out…

HE (or she) HAS ONE.

That’s always a lovely thing.

I was recently horrified to discover the children’s book (IS it a children’s book?) ”Everyone Poops” at my friend’s house. One glance at her face confirmed this was a daddy purchase and that her child knew that she would never, evereverever be reading THAT book to HIM. So, anyway, I guess that’s their thing for them to grunt and bond over. Wonderful. Fine. Whatever. Never mind that I needed to go take a shower just from looking at the illustrations. Children’s literature CAN be too realistic, people.

At the time, we joked that I should totally out him on his Facebook wall (my, how times have changed) and make a crack about it. I wanted to, but I just couldn’t think of the right funny thing to say. Well, and then I sort of forgot. I was still firm in my stance that it was fine to have such a wretched book.

Fine for THEM, you see. I do understand not everyone shares my general aversion for any jokes related to bodily functions. I once threatened to quit a perfectly nice babysitting gig because the children wanted me to read them Walter the Farting Dog.

I was firm UNTIL my child starts quoting the text (I think–I’m blaming him regardless of what the facts may turn out to be concerning the source of her sudden poop fascination).

So, good morning Mike:

And, then…

Win.

I’m very sorry to all of you who have come here hoping for something good, and all I gave you is a story (BARELY a story) about a dead bird and then THIS. I’m afraid this post isn’t much of an improvement. My sincere apologies. I’ve been making lots of both boring and exciting grownup decisions over the last few days (exactly how much do YOU clean your house for a health insurance salesman/underwriter to sit at your kitchen table, just out of curiosity?), and I’m all out of blog fodder at the moment. This is what serves as mindless entertainment for today. Everyone needs a little of that on occasion.

And that’s how MY day got started March 15, 2011

I have no purpose in telling this story, other than that it won’t get out of my head. I hate it when people do weird things and I never get to find out why.

I was on the way to work this morning, coffee halfway enjoyed and attempting to ignore the dinging that was my Blackberry telling me about all the work emails that came in between the time I left the house and the time I would get to school (I’m coming, I’m COMING!), when I saw something that is funny for no precise reason I can pinpoint.

I was waiting in line to turn off of the interstate, which takes a while at that time of morning. I watched a guy in a blue BMW hit and kill a bird on the opposite onramp (not his fault, it was a total suicide dive on the bird’s part), pull over, GET OUT, and take a picture of the dead bird with his cell phone. He saw me watching him, smiled like “Yeah, I know that was a totally whack-job thing to do…” and got back in his car.

And all I could think was, “I wonder if he’s going to post that on Twitter.”

Yes, that is the whole story.

I’m very, very sorry.

And that was pretty much how the rest of the day went. Better luck tomorrow!

Rainy day “joke” March 9, 2011

Q: Why did the cracker climb up the window?

A: BECAAAAAUSE (this word stretches out over approximately one minute) the cracker wanted to play in the rain and get all soggy!

Sigh.

How much damage is it going to do to her self-esteem that I keep telling her these are NOT funny?

Cough, cough, sniffle February 24, 2011

Baby Girl is just sick enough to need to be quarantined (BELIEVE me, I’m mourning the loss of Thursday/Friday coffee/playdates more than she is!), but not so sick that she will actually sit still for one solitary second. She just coughs every four seconds and occasionally hacks up some “yucky taste”  as she runs around wreaking havoc. Then she brings it to me.

Parenting is SO glamorous, is it not?

Morning highlights (as we’re trapped at home, it’s probably not going to rock your socks off, but you’re the one who clicked over here in the first place. You pretty much know what you’re getting at this point, loyal readers of my ramblings!):

• I made Dutch pancakes (add in lots of vanilla and top with powdered sugar–you won’t regret it), and we are having them for every meal for forever from here on out. Executive decision.
• Baby Girl fought me tooth and nail for the right to kill a humongous spider crawling across the living room floor. She squished-ed him with ABUNDANT JOY, princess crown and all.
• She has found the perfect toy, individually tailored to her innate talents and desires in life: a voice recorder. For the last 30 minutes, I have listened to her record her own voice, play it back as she listens in stunned, wide-eyed silence (SILENCE! DID YOU HEAR ME???), cackles, then starts all over again.
• She has asked me how old she will be when she gets married. I said 42.
• I told her we were going to run to the library, and she informed me that she wants books “about things that are not boring.” Four or fourTEEN?
• And, finally, she does not need a bath. Why? Because she sniffed herself and she has decided that she does not “smell smelly all that much.”

What passes for a “joke” around here February 5, 2011

Up front, my sincere apologies if you’re not a grand- or great-grandparent to Baby Girl. If you’re not, you may want to just skip this one. It’s not very interesting, I’m afraid.

She had spent most of the day with my parents and grandparents at my grandparents’ house, and she was a little, um, WIRED FOR SOUND when we got there to pick her up. My dad shot some video of her telling some jokes.

You’ll know they’re jokes because of how she laughs hysterically after each one. There are no other outward signs of joke, so don’t worry if you can’t totally catch all the audio. Just know we’re all laughing AT her, not with her. She says some gibberish first and asked us if we think it’s a funny joke (we all chorus “no”).

Also, please note I had no idea I was actually IN the shot, or I might not have been sitting so awkwardly. Hi.

And I am posting this second one ONLY because I couldn’t stop laughing for ten minutes after I saw it. It doesn’t paint me in a very flattering light, but the laugh is totally worth it. My mother is constantly using the wrong words (similar-sounding words, similar-meaning words, random word substitutions, you name it), and I am constantly correcting her. I just can’t help it–it’s like a rude-daughter reflex. For example, another one tonight was “gender” when she meant “genre.” How could you leave that alone? Despite how sharp and bad-mannered it looks on video, she really doesn’t even acknowledge my corrections, so I don’t think it bothers her!

Just watch my face when she says “perrier” (pair-ee-ay) instead of “pirouette.” I’m reasonably sure she wasn’t thinking of the fancy French water. Either way, that is a BAD face I made. Priceless.



Snippets January 13, 2011

Yes, I realize I haven’t blogged about Snow Days 1, 2, and 3. We’re on Snow Day #4 (and I remember thinking, If we’re out of school on Monday, I am so in trouble! Oh, little did I know way back then…).

I again promise snow pictures, but here are some Baby Girl quotes from today…

(Still learning the concept of “joke” around here):

BG: Why do lions have turtle eggs?

Me: I have no idea. Why?

BG: (already laughing at hysteria-levels) Because they don’t have any turtle mommies!!! Get it???

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Sometimes BG is still down for her nap when Andrew gets home from work. I always go in and say, “Hey. Daddy’s home.” And she’ll say every time, “MY daddy?!? Is that who it is?”

Um, yes. YOUR daddy, silly girl. Does that require further clarification? We just have the one, as far as I know.

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And BG tends to get on certain food kicks, eating one food until she gets sick of it and never wants it again. I have no clue where she gets this (though, COINCIDENCE, I’ve been eating the same curry lentil soup for lunch for the last week–thanks, Anne!). Right now, she’s into hummus (because she’s a weird little kid). We were sitting on the floor playing Monopoly (4 year old rules–they’re as incomprehensible as you’d probably imagine), and I left for a minute. The tub of hummus was on the floor with us, and I came back to discover her LICKING it out of the container like a dog. I said her name, she jumped guiltily and tossed it down in front of her.

Me: Were you just LICKING the hummus?

BG: (long pause) Well, I don’t know. Did you SEE ME licking the hummus?

Well played.

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You win, Snow Day, #4.

Yes, that’s exactly what getting her dressed is like January 12, 2011

I love it when I read a blog post from a stranger and it just takes the words right out of my mouth. This is Melanie over at Big Mama. She wrote this post about the soul-sucking ordeal that is getting an opinionated female child dressed every day. If I was as effortlessly funny as she is, this is what I would have written (I’m very funny in my head). This is why we often sport the “clean but quite possibly homeless” fashion presentation. Go have a good laugh, and be ready to do it again when you see the photo at the bottom. If the children at my elementary school are any indication, she’s exactly right–hobo chic is the current trend, so why don’t we just GIVE already? She’ll just blend in with her “stripes and other stripes DO SO match” combos. I’m not so sure how Baby Girl’s crown is going to go over, however.

This is just what Kindergarten is going to be like for us next year.

Gulp.