Tongue twister

Recently, Monkey has taken to saying "thank you SOOOO much" which pretty much cracks us up. It's something about how she emphasizes SOOOO - it doesn't look funny on paper (or blog) but trust me, it is adorable. I don't know if she got it from me, from M, or from school, but I like it. No reason not to be extra polite, right?

Now, being only a whopping 27 months old, sometimes she mixes up her sentences. So last night, when she said goodnight to daddy, I'm pretty sure she meant to say "I love you too..."

Instead? She said "I love you TOO much."

Snort. Right back atcha kiddo.

Sunshine and roses

Well, in comparison to a few days ago, Monkey's mornings both yesterday and today were full of sunshine and roses. Maybe her cold has passed (turns out lots of her classmates at school are now uber cranky with head colds....).

Yesterday we walked to school (i.e., Monkey was in the stroller and I walked the 27 odd blocks). She sang and chattered and had me read Winnie the Pooh meets Gopher (the abridged version) again and again.

Today we took the bus, and Monkey spent most of the time commenting on how slippery the seat was (and then scooting around on her butt and giggling) or asking why. You know, why did the bus stop? Why did the little boy get off the bus? Why can't I have ice cream (as we passed a delivery van decorated in pictures of ice cream). Why why why.

Somedays, it is just such a pleasure to be her mom. I love that kid. Even after answering 1450 "why" questions in a 30 minute commute.

Wrong side of the bed (crib, whatever...)

Poor Monkey, she really was a disaster this morning.

She's not feeling well, with a cold, and that made her miserable, and then every thing kept going wrong.

Like what? Well......I opened the door to the kitchen and smushed her foot/scraped her little toe. (Cue award music for mother of the year.)

Then she tried to grab a heavy book out of her crib and dropped it on her foot. Same one, bien sur.

And then, adding insult to injury, the cat hissed at her when she hugged poor Ollie too vigorously. I think that was the straw that broke the camel's back. Monkey just looked at me and sobbed.

If she were a few years older, I think she would have just told me she was going back to bed for the day. That or said "it's five o'clock somewhere in the world" and cracked open a beer.

An unmitigated failure

As part of the preparation for babygirlcarter#2's immininent arrive in 8 weeks 4 days (but who's counting, really), we need to move Monkey to her big girl bed.

In her big girl room....

On the other side of the apartment.....

Without all her toys, books, and artwork on the wall that make it "her" room......

And which presently looks like the receiving bay of a goodwill or salvation army drop-off site. Replete with boxes of books, detritus, used coats, electronic odds and ends, and you know - stuff.

That sort of chaos makes me itch. Yes, because I'm anal and I love a clean and tidy apartment. It makes M itch even more, because he abhors clutter like...hmm, roaches hate Raid? It's a strong aversion, let's just leave it at that.

So, it shouldn't have surprised us that Monkey didn't like this room either. She IS our child, after all.

Still, we tried on both Saturday and Sunday to get her to take a nap in her big girl bed. In theory, she's over-the-moon excited about this option. She begs to sit on her bed, and when you ask if she's going to nap there you get an "oh YES" and vigorous head nodding.

Reality was a wee bit different. Tantrum central: crying, wailing, gnashing of teeth and throwing herself at the door. Oy.

So she slept in her crib. Even there we had to let her cry it out - she'd worked herself up so much there was no other option.

We have a lot of work to do. We need to transform the pit of hell, um the big girl room, into an actual big girl's room. Wish us luck.

So Hey! See you at the Salvation Army drop off this weekend!

One less thing to worry about

So, dear readers, as you know from recent posts, we have been quizzing Monkey about what to name her little sister.

Mostly, this has been to entertain ourselves, but we forgot to let Monkey in on the joke.

Last night, as M and I went to bed, I have to admit that I laid there and just laughed and laughed and laughed. Because Monkey has an honest to goodness opinion about what to name her little sister, and will not move from her position. She's selected the name, dammit, so why must we keep quizzing her! She's so earnest, too, when she tells us the name. It about breaks my heart with cuteness.

So, as M put it - that's one less thing to worry about! (and no, we're not telling you what the name is. and no cheating by asking Monkey)