S on the potty:
L has a peanut. Do you have a peanut? I don’t have a peanut. I have a china.
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L is sweet, disarming, and persuasive, and I fear that he’s going to get some girl “in trouble” one day. I don’t know what to do about this. Conversation from the other morning:
L: Mommy, I just love you so much!
me: I love you so much too.
L: I love you more. I love you so much I can’t even sleep at night. I love you so much I can’t sleep because you’re not in my bed with me.
Oh dear.
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S’s speech has come along way. Bad news for my S-isms, but generally good news as now she’s mostly understood. However, she has been saying some surprising things lately. Recently I was talking to another mom about babies and she said, with perfect articulation:
We don’t have a baby because our baby died.
WTF? Not only have we never had a baby die, but she also has never known any babies who have died. I have no idea where this came from. A few days earlier she said:
When me get bigger, me be a mommy. Then me die.
(No, honey, you’ll only wish you would…)*
*kidding, please don’t lecture me.
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S never ever ever stops talking. If she’s awake, she’s chatting away. She has nothing to say most of the time so she simply narrates. Nothing is too mundane to escape her squeaky narration. 90% of my waking life is spent having a conversation like this one:
S: Imma gonna pick my nose now to see what stuff is in there. Now my finger is in my nose. I can’t get the stuff out. Mommy? Mommy? Mommy? Mommy?
me: Yes?
S: Imma picking my nose to see what stuff is in there. That OK, Mommy? Mommy? Mommy? That OK that Imma picking my nose to see what stuff is in there? With my finger? That OK, Mommy?
me: It’s not great, S. It’s kind of gross.
S: I have my finger in my nose but I can’t get the stuff out. Mommy? Mommy? Mommy? The stuff is in my nose. It stuck. Mommy?
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