What I Sound Like

After she got home, I told Anna that she could pick where we eat dinner tonight. I never say this unless I feel like I can stomach Luby's, because that's pretty much always her pick. While I finished up a few things, Anna was playing to occupy herself until it was time to leave for dinner.

This is the conversation that followed. . .

Anna: [Playing with her play kitchen and food] "I'm making dinner, Mommy!"

Me: "Oh good! Then we don't have to go to Luby's."

Anna: "Why?"

Me: "Because you're making dinner."

Anna: [Giving me "the look"] "It's not real, Mommy!"

Me: "But I want to eat your dinner."

Anna: "Mommy, you will choke."

Thanks Anna. I now officially know what I sound like.

Keeping Secrets

Tonight, as I was getting Anna in her jammies after her bath. . .

Anna: "Friday is Mother's Day at my school."

Me: "Really?"

Anna: "Yeah, I made a plate."

Me: "You made a plate for me? That's so sweet, Anna!"

Anna: [Leaning in really close and putting her finger over her mouth] "Shhhhhhhhhh! It's a secret!"

Me: [Laughing hysterically] "It's a secret, huh?"

Anna: "Yeah, from my mommy and my daddy."

I tried to explain to her that that means that she wasn't supposed to tell me, but I don't think she gets it (which is fine with me!) But I guess I should make sure she better understands what a "secret" is before I go sharing anything confidential!

What Lies Beneath

What lies beneath my little girl's sweet smiles is one tough cookie (not always a bad thing!)


This was the back-and-forth between Derek and Anna at dinner tonight.

Derek: "Did you go to time out today?"

Anna: "No Sir!"

Derek: "Who went to time out today?"

Anna: "Lane."

Derek: "Why did Lane go to time out?"

Anna: "Because he hit me!"

Derek: "What did you do after he hit you?"

Anna: "I told him no hitting and then hit him back!" (showing a closed fist and letting out a big "errrrrr!")

Not sure if it was true or not, but I have to say that I strongly suspect that her daddy was secretly proud.

The Grand Inquisition

Anna has been asking for a "baby sister" - a lot, and for quite some time now - so we've had lots of conversations about it. At one point, I think she even gave up on me and decided she wanted to have the baby herself, so I had to explain that she has to wait until she gets big and gets married like Mommy before she can have a baby.

Well, like most things do when you have an inquisitive toddler, that came back to bite me this morning. We were on our way to her school, and this is the little voice I hear from the back seat:

Anna: "Mommy, are you still married?"

Me: "Yes, Mommy & Daddy are still married."

At this point, I was very unsure of where this was going, and wondering if maybe she had overheard anyone recently talking about the concept of divorce.

Anna: "Then I want a baby sister!"

Of course! I'm married, hence I should have a baby. Preferably a girl one.

Me: "Well, Mommy and Daddy plan to have another baby one day, but even if we do, we don't get to decide if it's a sister or a brother."

Anna: "Why?"

Me: "Because God gets to decide."

Anna: "Why?"

Me: "Because God makes the baby, and puts it in Mommy's belly."

Anna: "How does He make a baby?"

I didn't know what to say, but I was pretty sure that she wanted to know how He does it so she can use the same technique to make her own, pronto!

Me: "God makes everybody. He made you, and He made Mommy too."

Anna: (Not letting up) "How?"

And then we walked into the school lobby, and I was saved from the grand inquisition. For now.

Ever feel like every answer you give leads to 10 more questions that you don't have the answer to?! And I know her questions are only going to get harder. . .

Good Witch or Bad Witch?

When Dorothy arrives in Oz, Glenda the Good Witch asks her the question, "Are you a good witch or a bad witch?" Dorothy innocently replies, "I'm not a witch at all. I'm Dorothy Gale, from Kansas."

I took Anna outside of the daycare on Friday for these pictures in her witch costume when I visited for her Halloween Parade.

After we were done and were headed back to her classroom, I asked her the same question, "Are you a good witch or a bad witch?"

She just as innocently replied, "I'm not bad, Mommy. I'm nice!"

I couldn't agree more, my sweet Anna!

The Other "ism"

Mommy: "Anna, get your shoes so we can go bye-bye."

Anna: [Throwing hands in air] "Where ism?"

---

Direction Translation: "Where is them?"

Correct English: "Where are they?"

But it's close enough for now, not to mention really adorable.

Unpredictable

This morning when I was driving Anna to school, she was "reading" a new Halloween book that I bought her called "Who's There on Halloween."

Anna: [Looking at a page in the book.]

Me: "What do you see?"

Anna: "A bat."

Me: "Ohhhhh, what color is the bat?"

Anna: "Black."

Me: "Read that page to me. What does it say?"

Anna: "I. Love. Bats."

Me: [giggles because it totally doesn't say that] "What's on the next page?"

Anna: " A pumpkin!"

Me: "What does that page say?"

Anna: "I. Love. Pumpkins."

[We arrive at school and I climb into the back seat to help Anna out of her carseat.]

Me: "Oh, Anna...what's on that page?"

Anna: "A spider!"

Me: [seeing the obvious pattern] "Does that page say, 'I. Love. Spiders.'?"

Anna: "No!"

Me: [surprised, but very interested] "Oh? Then what does it say?"

Anna: [sings, with hand motions] "The itsy bitsy spider. . ."


My little chica gets some definite creativity points on that one!

Pressure

When i picked Anna up today from daycare, as soon as we got in the parking lot she looked me straight in the eye and this is how our conversation went. . .

Anna: "I want a sister."

Me: [wondering where that came from] "What?!"

Anna: [louder] "I want a sister."

Me: [still processing] "What?!"

Anna: [emphatically] "I want a sister right now!"

Me: [laughs, thinking she doesn't really know what she's saying]

Me: "What is a sister?"

Anna: [like I am the dumbest person ever] "Like a baby!"


She's getting more and more insistent. But don't worry, I can take the pressure!

The Apple Doesn't Fall Far. . .

Important note: Not sure why, but my family has always used the word "doot" (pronouced like "foot") in reference to cute little kid farts.

[Anna and Derek sitting on the couch this evening.]

Anna: [makes a big "doot"]

Derek: "Anna, did you make a big doot?"

Anna: "Yeah, I made a big one...like Daddy!"

I rest my case.

Pillow Talk

[Lying in the dark between Mommy & Daddy in our bed...]

Anna: [pointing out the window] Look! Airplane!

Mommy: Yes, baby. That is an airplane. You're very smart.

Daddy: Anna rode in an airplane when she was little. Do you remember?

Anna: I ride choo choo.

Mommy: Yeah, angel. You rode a choo choo with Mommy.

Mommy: I love you, Anna.

Anna: I love you too, Mommy.

Mommy: Okay, no more talking now. It's time to go night night.

[Silence]

Daddy: I love you, Anna.

Anna: No more talking.

---

Since WHEN does she listen to me?!

And just so you know...she did eventually tell her Daddy that she loved him too before drifting off to dreamland :)

Deep Thoughts

Looking at one of Anna's old baby pictures...

Daddy: Do you know who that is?

Anna: That Anna.

Mommy: Can you give Anna kisses?

Anna: [Kisses picture.]

Daddy: Hey, is that Anna pretty?

Anna: No, that Anna Fernandez!

The Cheerleader in the Potty

As we were rushing to get out of the house. . .

Anna: What are you doing, Mommy? [the eternal question]

Me: I'm washing my hands.

Anna: Anna wash hands too!

Me: No, baby. We're in a hurry. Mommy is just washing her hands because she went wee wee.

Anna: Mommy, You went wee wee?

Me: Yeah, baby. I did.

Anna: [With equal enthusiasm and sincerity] Yay Mommy!

I just might need a cheerleader every time I go to the potty now - you know, so I can feel like I accomplished something important.

Laundry Schmaundry

Who cares if the laundry is done when this sweet little thing is begging to play hide-and-seek?

I can't say that I do.

And Anna likes to play hide-and-seek a lot!

(This might explain my ever-growing laundry pile - not that I've noticed).

Holy Crap!

From the title, I would think you've probably guessed already, but this one is going to be about our wonderful and amazing adventures in potty training in our quest to never buy another diaper ever. I'm sure no other parents out there can relate to that one!

So, Anna does AMAZING at school with her potty training. Not one accident all day long. Usually not even while she's napping. Wee wee? In the potty every time. Poo poo? In the potty. Every. Single. Time. Without fail. Sometimes she even wears "big girl panties" instead of her pull-up.

Home, on the other hand, is a completely different story. Not to say that she doesn't have her moments where she tells us when she needs to go and uses the potty like a champ. She does. But more often than not, she'll tell us *after* she's already done it or not tell us at all then deny it when we smell it. I'll ask her, "If you didn't do it, then who put the poo poo in your pants?", and she does not hesitate to place the blame elsewhere.

The past 24 hours have not exactly been what I would call forward-steps toward diaper-free living. Last night, after I gave Anna a bath, she was sitting in the drained tub, all squeaky clean, playing (and refusing to get out). She told me, "I go poo poo." So I immediately started scrambling, trying to get her on the potty. She then vehemently denied that she had to go, so I figured I'd let her play a little while longer. I looked away (I'm not even sure why or for how long) but when I looked back, she was laying in the tub on her tummy with a huge turd just perched perfectly on top of her little hind end. I'm sure I don't have to detail what happened next, but all I can say is - so much for that concept of getting out of the tub cleaner than when you went in!

Then, this morning as we were getting ready to leave the house, I sat Anna on the kitchen counter. Then the conversation went something like this:

Anna: "Poo poo hurt me."

Me: "Did you go poo poo in your diaper?"

Anna: "Yeah"

Me: "Well, don't worry. Mommy will change you."

And it was at this point that I stood her up so that I could bring her to her room for a diaper change - only to discover a big pile of poop on my countertop! Apparently, diapers can only hold so much, and this was overflow.

And at that point, I KNEW the day could only improve, because there's some kind of two-poop-incidents-in-a-day law or something. Right? Somebody please assure me. :)

*Note: Please do not let this story scare you away from eating at my house. I can assure you that bleach is my friend. lol.

Possession

Main Entry:
pos·ses·sion

Pronunciation:
\pə-ˈze-shən \

: the act of having or taking into control
: control or occupancy of property without regard to ownership

I think that most toddlers go through the stage where everything is "mine". MY Mommy. MY Daddy. MY milk. MY toy. MY colors. MY crackers. Mine, mine, mine. Anna definitely has had a little streak of that lately, and we've been doing our best to instill in her the value of sharing and how it's just not nice to be screaming "mine" all the time.

Well, we recently decided to extend our landscaping in our backyard and have created some new beds over by Anna's playset. Of course, big piles of dirt aren't enough to make beds pretty, so last night, we made a trip to Houston Lawn and Garden. Anna drug MawMaw around in the sweltering heat, forcing her to walk down EVERY aisle and smell EVERY flower she passed, while Derek and I piled up our cart with our 50% off loot. And when all was said and done, between our stuff and MawMaw's stuff, we had two big flats full of plants at the checkout.

The checkout line was pretty long, so it was at this point that I left Anna with Derek and went to help MawMaw with some final selections. All was fine for a while, then I caught Derek out of the corner of my eye waving like a maniac and motioning for me to hurry over. So I did. And apparently, the checkout lady had come over to start counting our plants to ring us up. To do so, she had to actually TOUCH the plants, and our sweet and polite (hehe) little munchkin didn't like that so much. She started swatting at the lady's hand and yelling, "No! MY Mommy's!" over and over again.

Totally hilarious in retrospect. Totally horrifying at the time. Totally something that we'll be working on. A lot and soon!

Honesty

Mommy [Excitedly]: "Anna, do you want to go shopping with Mommy?"

Anna [Enthusiastically]: Ya!

Mommy: "Are you going to be a good girl?"

Anna [Matter-of-factly]: No.

We repeated these questions several times with the same responses. You have to admire her honesty.

Overheard

[Derek and Anna playing with building blocks]

Derek: "Let's build Mommy a house."

Anna: [Plays with blocks]

Derek: [Begins building tall structure] "Don't you think that Mommy deserves a big house?"

Anna: [Plays with blocks]

Derek: [Continues building until almost all blocks have been used]

Anna: [Begins removing blocks from the center]

Derek: "Anna! You're going to compromise the structural integrity."

Jennifer: [Laughs hysterically...every single time she thinks about it]

Maybe you had to be there, but at any rate, it was a great laugh for me (oh...um...and a valuable architecture lesson for Anna...yep, that's it).

The Wheels are Turning. . .

Normally, when I pick Anna up from daycare, she's smiling. And happy. And playing. And she runs up to the door to greet me. And as we leave, we pass the infant room and say bye-bye to the babies. Every day.

Yesterday afternoon, when I picked Anna up from daycare, that was not so much the case. She was crying. And whiny. And unhappy. And she continued to cry as I came to the door and kept saying "assy, assy, assy" over and over again. (Mom translation: "Paci" or Pacifier). Anna doesn't use a pacifier at daycare. All day long. Not even for a nap. So they had no idea what "assy" even meant.

So I proceed by explaining to her that I didn't have a pacifier and that we "gave them to the babies". I thought that reasoning with her might help the situation as it has before, but instead she broke out into a wail. So I did what any mother would do...I held her tight and high-tailed it out of the room.

And as we passed the infant room - instead of waving bye-bye to the babies, like we do every day - Anna points at the babies and says, "assy, assy, assy" as if to tell me she wanted me to get her pacifier back from the babies.

Oh yeah...the wheels are turning. Mommy's going to have to get smarter!