Bus stop conversations

This morning, as I waited for the bus with Monkey and Jellybean, one of our kind neighbors walked by and paused to say hello.She leaned over and engaged Jellybean in a conversation.

Q: "Where do you go to school?"
A: "With my friends."

I thought it was a pretty good answer.

Best diet plan, ever

One of the funniest things about having a mynah bird (I mean toddler) in the house is listening to their ever-expanding vocabulary.

Last Sunday dinner, for example, M asked Jellybean to eat or do something. Something she didn't want to do. So what did she do?

She gave him her famous frowny face, pointed a finger, and said "no daddy, UNACCEPTABLE."

Let's just say that I couldn't finish my dinner that night. I was too busy suppressing gales of laughter.

Career gal

A recent conversation between cousin H and Jellybean:

J: Goodbye. I'm off to work. (exiting stage right with a handbag over her arm)

H: Yeah? Where's work? (bemused)

J: Not here. (like, DUH)

Under the entry for gullible

For the past 24 hours, Jellybean's been walking around, shrugging her shoulders, and saying "it walked away...."

What, you may ask, is she referring to?

Why the christmas tree, of course.

If you ask here where it went (since we took it down to the curb during her naptime), she'll shrug, put her hands up in the air, palms up, and chirp "it walked away!"

Because perhaps -  just maybe - her dad's been messing with her.

Recent bon mots

Jellybean at breakfast: "I love you sausage..." (no, I love you daddy or mommy, though! the stinker)

Monkey at 9:45pm at night, when her little sister is wailing in her crib: "Shush!"....the response?... silence. (the guilty parents? we shrug and call it a night....)

Monkey when we did something dire (you know, enforcing bedtime, etc.): upon repairing to the couch, she informed her mother "You've ruined all my love for you. I only love Ollie, because she's nice to me. (and the academy award for best dramatic actress goes to....)

Monkey when I pick her up at school at 5:55pm: "Mommy, you're TOO early." (as I'm thinking, phew, I'm tired kid, let's go home already!)

Jellybean when we exhorted her to eat the "bears" (aka gummy vitamins): "no, mama, those are vitamins." (I stand corrected, kid - can't pull one over on you!)

Chatty Cathy

Jellbean is starting to talk more and more these days. I love listening to her ever-expanding vocabulary.

Yesterday she started saying "rabbit" and pointing to the ears on the rabbit in a book. It was perfectly enunciated, but since I always call it a bunny, it took me a moment to figure out what she meant. It was like my brain needed to catch up to the fact that my 20 month old was talking to me!

She's using two-word sentences, and assigning possessive terms to things - so I'm "Monkey's mommy" and our cat is "Monkey's Ollie," etc.

She loves to talk! (atta girl, that's my baby!) Combine that with her love of technology and every phone call becomes an excuse for her to show off.

Yesterday we got a spate of (wonderful!) calls from family and friends to wish Monkey a happy birthday. Monkey was being a bit of a stinker, however, and by the end of the evening she simply didn't want to talk anymore.

Jellybean? No such problem. She was chatting everyone up! She regaled Uncle N with "woof woof" and "roar" and "meow" and a variety of other animal noises. Then closed with "bye bye."

After Uncle N rang off, M actually said - out loud! - "maybe we should get her a phone"....of course meaning one that doesn't work. But really, there is NO way she'd go for that.

She's totally going to need a dataplan, dad, so she can text her friends. Like OMG, unlimited texting would be gr8!

Sharing

Now that the girls are sharing a room, we're talking to them about sharing a lot more. In fact, we no longer call that room Jellybean's room, but affirmatively make a point of calling it "The Girls' Room" - and this title has taken hold to the point where if I ask Monkey where something is, she's more likely than not going to tell me it's "in The Girls' Room" which cracks me up. She hasn't yet said "my room" but that will come. Even though last night was a little rough, they are doing a spectacular job together.

However, we moved them into each other's space *just* as Jellybean's language skills have expanded to include the second favorite word of toddlers ("no" being first on the list, bien sur)....mine.

MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE

Ah, timing. You can't make this stuff up.

Shake n Bake

This morning was - um - uneven.

The bad:
I spent 20 minutes looking for Jellybean's shoes, only to discover them at SCHOOL when I dropped her off. Grr. (babysitter decided to take her home, sans shoes, for whatever reason)

Then, once I lacquered the girls with sunblock, Jellybean made a beeline to the bathroom sink to wash her hands, and before I could provide the stepstool to her - she stood on the lip of the (dirty) catbox. And, well, catapaulted the litter (sh*t and all), all over herself, the bathroom floor, and even the bathroom door. The fine dust at the bottom of the litter pan clung to her legs like shake and bake. Needless to say, she got an impromptu bath before we left the house.

Gah, clumping litter does not wash off well when it's stuck to your sunblock-misted toddler.

The good:
The girls shared goldfish crackers on the bus as we went to school together. Each time Monkey fed Jellybean a "fishie", Jellybean would burble "thank you Monkey" and giggle, pleased that she was saying the right thing.

Jellybean is enjoying learning to talk. She is clearly full of ideas and conversations, brimming to get out!

These two get along so well, it is just amazing to me. I love my girls.

In which I pretend that she doesn't speak English....

This heat wave is pretty brutal.

I'm going to stop making jokes about it (for the next 5 minutes) as I just stuck my foot in my mouth with a colleague. I opened up the conversation with a bit about how this heat was killin' me, only to learn he's recently been released from the hospital, where he was treated for heat exhaustion. And he spent 2 days there, he was so sick. *cough, cough, let me remove my foot from my mouth*

Like I said, the heat is brutal.

Our a/c at home just can't keep up. We have a huge window unit in the living room that usually does a good (enough) job, but because of the odd layout of our apartment, Monkey's room stays hot. Too hot. Hot enough that it feels like you are walking into a sauna. So hot that, for the past few nights, she's been bunking with her little sister, crashed out on the floor with a sleeping bag.

I wasn't sure that this would work out. I mean it's worked well on vacation to have them share a room, but on vacation we run them ragged: walking all over Washington, DC., or spending hours at the Milwaukee County Zoo. So that when we put them to bed, they're both so tired we don't worry one will wake the other.  But we've never had them share a room, not even for one night, at home after a regular day.

The first night I was worried that Jellybean would wake Monkey, or vice versa; it was a roaring success. Both slept well, and when I went in to spring Jellybean from her crib (she was singing and talking), I found Monkey wide awake and happy! My normally sullen in the morning teenager was awake and happy on a school day. It was so pleasant I was shocked. I kept thinking I must have wandered into the wrong family! Monkey loved it, and was charming as she told stories to me and M about how she and Jellybean were telling each other jokes. (JOKES! how does she know about jokes?) She even talked about the sleeping bag and pillow on the floor as "her bed."

The second night was also a roaring success, in part, as the 5 times that (poor, poor) Jellybean woke up crying (and screeching) in pain from heartburn (we think), Monkey slept right through it. She didn't even wake up that night to go potty.

I'm telling you? Monkey sleeping in a/c is a VERY GOOD THING. And, quite frankly, after Monkey expressed an interest in sharing a room with Jellybean after our recent visit to the Midwest, we started to talk seriously about doing just that.

Last night over dinner, I prompted the girls (in a leading question) if they liked sharing a room together. Monkey immediately piped up with a cheerful YES.

Jellybean? She looked at me, looked at her sister, looked back at me and said "no."

Monkey told me that Jellybean said no, and she sounded a little puzzled/confused.

So I asked the question again.

And.........no.

And that is when I might have hinted that Jellybean doesn't really understand everyone yet, as she's still learning to speak English....

Dictionary entry

Main Entry: de·fi·ant
Pronunciation: \-ənt\
Function: adjective
Etymology: Middle French, from Old French, present participle of defier to defy
Date: 1583
: full of or showing defiance : bold, impudent
— de·fi·ant·ly adverb
: see Monkey, or; see Jellybean.

Jellybean is pretty advanced, physically. She walked at 10.5 months, she dances and stomps her feet, she walks backwards for fun, and she RUNS. A lot.

But what she doesn’t do, much, is talk. She’s communicative, all right, but real words are slower for her than they were for her big sister, Monkey. She’s got mama, dada, bye, and a mangled approximation of kitty-cat. But that’s kind of it. Not so bad that we’re going to put her in speech therapy, but it’s definitely something I think about. (that damn mommy brain, I can’t turn it off!!)

Which is why, last night, I was thrilled to see her pull out the age-old favorite, “no.”

I know. I know. I’m going to rue the day she learned that word.

Still, last night it was a hoot.

Jellybean was (once again!) being naughty and fiddling with the electronics. I came around the corner and busted her taking the Xbox controller out of the cabinet, and firmly said “NO” to her. She jumped, tossed the controller in the direction of the cat (like hey man, I was just carrying it for a friend….), and ran to the couch on the other side of the room. You know, so she could pretend that she definitely, certainly, one hundred percent for sure was NOT just busted. No way.

Once there, she casually leaned against the couch, furrowed her brow, raised her hand with her index finder outstretched, and with a firm tone of voice shook that finger at me as she said “MO.” Twice. Like in case I missed the first time she scolded me.

I about fell over laughing. Funny kid. She hasn’t mastered the “n” sound, but boy can she do a spot-on impression of me!

A few random stories....

Ok, where to start?

SOO much is going on. These girls, they just blindside me with all their growing up! I need to freeze each moment in time, and every day they do something that makes me think “oooh, this MUST go on the blog” and then……they do something else…..and then suddenly it is hours, if not days, later and I can’t remember half of it.

So, a few recent vignettes:

Jellybean is one tough cookie. This weekend she: 1) wiped out in the tub and bumped her noggin against the drain thing-a-mah-jigger hard enough to raise a lump; 2) got walloped on the other side of her head by her sister who was swinging a bucket of chalk around and around; and 3) got a third nipple in the form of a pinch/bruise on her chest from her pacifier clip attached by – oh yes – me. Ow.

And yet? She’s in a great mood. Man, she’s tough! Maybe her new nickname should be “timex.” (oh come onnnnn, you remember – it takes a lickin’ and keeps on tickin’ don’t you?)

_________

Monkey? Also tough. And perhaps learning some caution. Perhaps.

Last night she fell off the couch and hit her head hard enough to raise an egg and break the skin. After some snuggling and some very anxious moments for me as I waited to see if her pupils looked funny or she got nauseous or dizzy, she was finagling more goldfish crackers and two books before bed (instead of one) – we think she’s juuuuust fine. But I’m still going to watch her.

M asked me if I was worried last night. And I told him yes – as in “yes, that’s my job.” And it is. Best job, ever.

__________

So this past Monday I was doing my schlep and carry routine (aka getting the two kids to school, plus diapers, and wipes, and formula, and 12 jars of babyfood, and Monkey’s spare sweatshirt, and her lunch, and her water bottle, and apples for the classroom, and and and and you get it – LOTS of HEAVY STUFF. Ugh).

I got the seats directly across from the exit in the back of the bus, which is prime real estate, and was very happy that I wouldn’t have to waddle/struggle/swim like a salmon going upstream to get me, the two girls, and all that stuff off the bus in a timely manner. We pushed the button requesting the stop, the bus stopped at our stop....and then two seconds later left.

Back into traffic before I could even stand up! And let me tell you, I am quick on the bus to avoid this very situation! I mean COME ON you MF’ing busdriver – are you kidding me? He didn’t stop for even three seconds!

I called out “stop please” and my call was taken up by everyone at the front of the bus. The hue and cry had his attention because he looked back and then, in the quintessential “whattya gonna do about it” attitude of poorly paid civil servants across the world.....he shrugged and kept driving. I was pissed. He couldn’t have cared less that he was doing a shitty job.

And then, I did it. I muttered “asshole” under my breath. Only it wasn’t quiet enough. Yeah. I was *that* mother this morning....the one that teaches her kids to curse. Sigh.

I'd feel worse if the label wasn't appropriate.

On langauge (yes, I know I've used this title before - deal with it)

So, two fun things happened in the last 24 hours:

Jellybean said mama! WOOOHOOOO!!!!!!!!! Of course, I’ve been unable (FAIL!! ROAR GNASH SOB) to get her to repeat it. But still. My heart about triples in size just thinking about it! SO proud of my little bean! God, do I love that little girl. I smooched her incessantly on the bus ride to school this morning, murmuring “say mama, say mama…” in between kisses on her soft blonde hair.

But no, she was silent. From the grins she kept giving me, I think she likes the attention and might withhold the next mama just to keep me focused on her – the stinker!

Not to be outdone by her little sister, Monkey has started writing “notes” to her daddy, presently traveling for work, “because she loves him.”

Which is why there is a small parade of hot pink (bien sur!) post-it notes stretching across the wall by our bed. She’s putting them there “to keep” in his absence. She’s so earnest, this is just endearing. Especially since the notes are comprised solely of a few random scribbles. Our budding novelist…..

The things she says, they don't always make sense (to me)

Monkey is funny. Sometimes she knows it, but even better is when she doesn't.

For example, in the airplane on the way home from Minneapolis, she told M "I"m have"....after being told to "behave".....

When I was attempting to dress her for school this past week, after she took her pajamas off (but before she put her clothing on), she danced around the kitchen saying "I'm a naked monkey" and walking like an orangutan. I can never tell if she remembers that her nickname is Monkey when she does this sort of thing....or if its just some sort of Martha Graham modern dance mood....

And her stories are hilarious. Today, when we were eating lunch at the Museum of Natural History, she told me that Santa got lost in outer space looking for a soft, blue planet that he could take home. Yeah, um, I got nothing. No clue.

What is your favorite synonym for stubborn? Me, I like mulish.

Monkey had her 3-year check up this morning and, if I hadn’t been there to assure the doctor otherwise, the pediatrician might have thought the kid was blind, deaf, mute and practically immobile, considering the pig-headed, mulish stubbornness she exhibited in her refusal to: (1) answer any questions, including what is your name; (2) exhibit any physical skills other than shrinking backwards; (3) acknowledge that the dreaded headphones on her ears were emitting a series of beeps; or (4) acknowledge that she could both see and identify the shapes on the wall in the vision test.

Now mind you that when she is NOT in the doctors office she is: (1) a freaking chatterbox that asks more questions that you can answer and engages in a running dialogue with her friends and/or toys, whomever is closest; (2) running and jumping and saying “mommy watch me do this trick” as she endangers my health with her fearless acrobatics on the playground; (3) able to overhear every single conversation and (bad) word we want her to miss; and (4) able to spot the smallest Elmo a million miles off and then beg for it (see #1, above).

Sigh.

She is the walking definition of stubborn.

Magic

The stories inside Monkey's head are magical. Full of laughter, and imagination, made up words and wacky strangeness.

I understand why the Dr. Suess stories are so appealing to her.....her brain thinks like that, too.

This morning she lagged behind on the way to the bus stop, because, as she put it, she needed to lock the door so the polar bears wouldn't get out while they were sleeping. This was in reference to a padlock hangling idly on the side of a window...

Yesterday she left the room and shut the door because..... I was at the dentist, and I didn't need to go with her because she's older than me.

She has mentioned repeatedly that Jellybean needs to share her teething toy, Sophie the giraffe, because she (Monkey) needs to teach her how to talk (by squeezing the toy and making it squeek).

She cooks dinosaurs with carrots....

Elephants live in trees.....

Princesses are known as dancerinas....

Life is very, very interesting to a three year old!

I knew there had to be a catch....

The downside to a highly intelligent, verbal child, is that they use your words (and methods) against you.

To wit:

Last night, M was giving Monkey a bath. When it was time to depart the tub, she declined. After much negotiation, M initiated the "count-down" to a time-out. (As in, I'm going to count down from 5 and if you haven't done [whatever] by the time I finish, you get a time-out). Usually this works like a charm.

But, last night it didn't work.

Upon hearing his pronouncement, mid-count, Monkey turned to M and said:

"I appreciate [your offer of a time-out], but I'm not done with my work here."

A rose by any other name

Labels and names are very important to toddlers. They take great pride in being able to tell you their full name, the names of their classmates, their teachers, etc. They are proud to be able to properly name objects. And relationships are also of great interest to them. They want to know that one person is their teacher, while another is their friend, or their neighbor, etc.

But sometimes, sometimes they don’t quite get the nuances quite right.

Monkey’s in a gang of four at school. Two little boys and another little girl, along with Monkey, make up this posse of spirited (and smart) insane toddlers. Naturally, these friends feature quite heavily in the stories they tell about their days.

One little boy, a pipsqueak of a kid with a GIANT personality, tells stories about Monkey all of the time. His grandmother decided that she wanted more information, and asked (teasingly, as grandmothers can do) if Monkey was his girlfriend.

He roared back in anger (after all, how DARE she get that wrong. Sheesh, adults can be so dumb sometimes, yannow?). No, she’s not my girlfriend, she’s my HUSBAND.

But of course she is.

Kids say the darndest things

Things Monkey has said in the past week:

1) I'm a dancing banana.

2) No, I'm going to sit here and read this, it's been a long, hard day (when asked to help with her chores).

3) Mom, I need some pretzels... for the road.

What I overheard this morning....

Monkey: Can you help me? I need to check my elmo.

M: Huh?

Monkey: I NEED TO CHECK MY ELMO!

Me: sotto voice - she means "email" I think!

M: Do you mean email?

Monkey: Yes. Elmo. I need to check it.

M: Ok - go ahead. Who is emailing you?

Monkey: My bear.

M: And what does your bear say?

Monkey: ribbit, ribbit (like a frog).