My little jester

Jellybean is funny. The problem is, she knows it!

A few nights ago she was jumping up and down like an insane frog, or a Mexican jumping bean on speed, in our hallway. Her hair was flopping to and fro like a muppet show gone wild, and her knees were coming up to almost her chest with each dramatic hop.

The unadulterated glee in this physical activity was apparent due to her gleaming eyes and gigantic grin.

She looked adorable. And hilarious!

And she was REALLY making too much noise. The floorboards were creaking and I'm sure our neighbors thought we were repetitively dropping a bowling ball on our floor.

I admonished her to stop jumping, reminding her of the rule "no jumping after dark."

She stopped jumping, pausing to catch her breath, and announced "I'm funny!"

This one is SO going to see the inside of the principal's office at school.

Flattery will get you....

Monkey likes to play dress up. A lot. "Dramatic play" is something this kid EXCELS at. We have princess clothing, ballerina clothing, kiddie-friendly hats and jewelry and all the scarves I forgot to donate after the '80s ended.

But most of all, she likes to wear my clothing. Specifically, my shoes.

We have had to institute a rule that she can only take one pair out of the closet at a time. And it's almost always a strappy three or four inch heel. Which she then puts on and clomps around in. Even Jellybean is in on this routine! It's adorable. And likely very annoying to our downstairs neighbor (sorry).

Recently, however, she's really moved on to accessories. Jewelry. Bling. Layers and layers of it. We have pink necklaces and purple necklaces and sparkly fake diamond & jewel rings and on and on and on.

Most of my costume jewelry - big necklaces, bangles, chunky turquoise pieces - are in a bag hung inside my closet. Some of which is right at eye level for Monkey.

And of course, she now wants to wear all of my jewelry. Which is OK, in theory, but there have been a few (ok, several, I learn slow!) necklaces that have succumbed to rough play and need to be repaired.

So while the shoes are generally OK under my supervision, the jewelry is off-limits.

Yesterday morning at 7:15am Monkey wanted to play with my shoes. I said no - too early to clomp around on our downstair neighbors' heads. So she turned to jewelry.

Monkey: Mom can I wear your jewelry?
Me: No sweetheart.
Monkey: Puhleeze?
Me: No. It's time to get around and eat breakfast.
Monkey: Just one piece?
Me: No.
Monkey: How about if I just get that blue one out for you? You would look so charming.

Would sir like a mint?

So today, on the way home from school, Jellybean made a subway car of passengers laugh out loud.

How?

Well, as C2 related to me, he was holding Jellybean in his arms, standing in a somewhat crowded subway car, when she leaned in and sweetly told him he had "orangutan breath."

Is that a mouse in the wall?

Yesterday I was putting something by the door when a noxious smell overtook me. It was so gross I started inspecting (even sniffing) all 8 gazillion pairs of shoes and boots, to see if someone had stepped in dog poop and tracked it into the apartment. Then I had the sinking suspicion that a mouse had died inside the walls, and we'd be forced to endure the smell as the wee rodent's body rotted, then dried into inoffensive nothingness, over weeks if not months of time.

But no. The offending smell was.......Jellybean's backpack.

So we're (still! agh) potty training Jellybean. Some days she's damn near perfect. And....other days I end up washing out multiple sets of poopy underwear.

Each day at school, the Montessori sends home any accidents (poop or pee) - usually in a balled up, inside-out latex glove that holds the offending clothing inside of it. Pretty ingenious, if you ask me - but also kind of a pain to unravel.

Monday through Friday I have a wonderful babysitter, C2, that helps. He's very vigilant about taking the accidents out of the bag, so they don't linger in Jellybean's backpack.

And I check, too, when I pack her bag in the morning with her lunch.

Except somehow we missed two of them. They were tucked into a rarely used pocket of the backpack (which has more folds and fissures than the face of a nonagenarian living in Texas and eschewing sunblock).

Eeuw.

I'm not usually grossed out by things. I grew up discussing surgery at the dinner table with my mom (trained as a public health nurse), or helping to clean fish with my dad (the avid outdoorsman). If I had time, I'd actually watch the TV shows that film surgeries; I think that stuff is cool.

Smells, however? That is tougher. When I was pregnant, I could barely handle walking around outside in the summer, as sweaty folks walking past me smelled so repugnant it would make me gag.

I started to unwrap the balled up gloves....but I couldn't do it. Epic fail.

I wavered in my determination. My eyes watered and my courage failed me: I tossed them out. Sorry kid - those Hello Kitty undies went to a better place!

SNOW DAY

Today was a snow day.

A seriously GREAT snow day. We got 19 inches of snow in Central Park last night. Do you realize how much snow that is?

Monkey's friend came over, and we went out to play. King of the Mountain was a favorite. As was leaping from a 8 foot high pile of snow into the snow below. It was awesome.