No!

Susie has a sinus infection and has been a bit of a crank-pot because of it.  After a trip to the doctor's office, we stopped at Nana and Grandpa's house to say hi and ended up staying for lunch.  At the table, Susie kept telling everyone, "NO!" It didn't matter what question we threw at her, the answer was "NO!"  I realize that this is something common amongst two year-old kids, however, Susie is usually a yes girl.  Anyway, after a string of grumpy no's, Nana asked Susie if she had any yes's in there.  Susie responded (of course), "NO!"  So, Nana asked where her yes's went, and Susie said, "They're in the trash can!" 

Ohhhhh.  Well, I guess that explains it. We'll have to go buy some new yes's.

A Wink and a Smile

Susie and I went for a walk around the block today after dinner.  A car approaching us slowed to turn right.  Susie looked at it and said, "The car is wink-king at me! It's winking, Mommy!" And proceeded to wink back at it.  I had to take a second look at the car to realize that she was talking about the blinker.  As the car drove off down the side street, Susie stopped and waved at it, and said, "Bye bye car.  Nice to see you!"

Brimstone and Fire

On the way home, Susie chirped up from the back seat again demanding that I stop talking to her daddy and start talking to her.  She has gotten into the habit of this, so I started asking her, "What do you want to talk about?"  This time, without that prompting, she immediately said, "Let's talk about fire."   . . . OK . . . "Fire hurt.  Fire a sin ... and it's dang - er- ous TOO!"  Did she just say sin? Yep, she said it again; it's a sin because it's bad. We figure she must be learning some religion at preschool.

Names

I don't know what makes me think that it would be an easy thing for a 2 and a 1/4 year old to name things.  For goodness sake, it took us a long time to come up with Susie's name. We looked at all of the baby name books and all of the baby name websites.  I even sat around with two guy friends with whom I went to school and laughed hysterically over all of the names that would sound horrible with my last name.

After months of deliberation, all we knew was that we didn't want a name that everyone else had.  I grew up in the seventies, and I remember all of the Jennifers, Michelles, Johns and Stephens.  The social security data showed that the name we loved the most (Isabella) was also the favorite name of everyone else having a baby girl.  I remember going into Baby's R Us and hearing "Izzy," "Bella," and "Isabella" so often that I couldn't dispute the data, even though I wanted to.

We ended up with Susie's name as a combination of family names and my bff from kindergarten, whose name I have apparently always loved.  Susan was her paternal grandmother, who passed away a few years before she was born.  Her middle name is my middle name, which is my maternal grandmother's name.  And, Susie, her nick name, has always just been my favorite name.  I've had a cat named Susie, a doll named Susie, and it is the fake name I'd given out through my 20's and early 30's to men I'd meet and not want to see again.  . . . Come ON, don't furrow your brow at me! . . . You know what I'm talking about.

So, why I expect to give Susie an object and have her be able to name it on the spot is beyond me.   Though, her name selections have proven to be quite hilarious.

We brought her home a bright red, plush lobster from Boston.  She was a bit taken aback by its appearance. When I decided that she had finally warmed up to it, I asked her what she wanted his name to be.  She looked at it (still skeptical that she wanted to take ownership of it) and said, "Couch."  . . . What?  . . . She nodded her head and said again with more conviction this time, "Couch."  That's been two weeks ago now and she still calls him Couch. 

I've been going through Susie's room, getting rid of all of the stuff that has accumulated over the past two years.  I pulled out some of her very first red high tops.  Nope, I'm not quite ready to part with them. So, we suggested to Susie that we put them on her Teddy.  They fit perfectly!  Then, Susie wanted him to have on a shirt.  I pulled out a 0-3 month old onsie, white with pink polka dots, and stuffed him in it.  Susie announced, "I have a baby!"  She walked around holding him like a proud mommy, made him a crib out of one of the boxes I'd just emptied,wrapped him in a blanket and fed him a (pretend) bottle.  When she came back over to me on the couch (no, not the lobster . . . the actaul sofa) she held him sweetly and said, "I love my baby!"  I asked her what his name would be, and she said, "Polka dot." I tried to lead her to a real name and asked, "Yeah, what's the name of your bear wearing a polka dot shirt?"  She looked at me as if I were not nearly as intelligent as the bear itself and demanded, "Polka dot is name!"

Today we learned that her naming prowess extends to herself as well.  Susie and her daddy were in the kitchen and as I was walking by, I heard her tell him her first and middle names.  I chimed in and tried to get her to say her last name too.  Instead, she told me, "My name not Susie, Mommy, it's Table."  . . . What? . . . She said, "I'm Table!" She said it in such a matter of fact voice that I didn't dare challenge her.  I guess she wasn't feeling Susie today.

Oh well.

Mommy and Susie Happy Time

Susie loves "Mommy's bed."  Even Daddy's side of Mommy's bed.  She, in particular, loves sleeping there.  As a special treat, some times at night, when time permits, she and I crawl into Mommy's bed and read books.  It is a very sweet time for me.  As I read, she cuddles up to me and points to items of interest in her her books.  With some of her books that we have read over and over and over, she will either say some of the pages along with me, or if I pause mid-sentence, she will finish it. 

One book we like to read together is Elmo's 12 Days of Christmas. Last night she even became so comfortable with it that she sang the words for the first day of Christmas, " . . . and a red monster up in a treeeeeeee!"  We both giggled each time she was required to sing.  One of our favorite books is Mr. Brown Can Moo by Dr. Seuss.  She knows all of the sounds and I always pause to let her say them.  Tonight, after we finished reading the page where the hippopotamus is chewing gum, I started to turn the page.  Susie said,  "No Mommy.  No turn the page. . . .  Let's TALK about it." So, we talked about the hippo's crazy eye brows and Mr. Brown's moustache.  After all of her questions were answered we were finally able to finish the book. 

After book time we say our good night prayers.  Susie tells me, "Say Dear Gods, Mommy."  It is usually some version of, "Dear God, thank you for this wonderful day and *insert all of the fun stuff Susie did that day*. And, dear God, please help us tomorrow to be better about *insert all of the stuff Susie had to be fussed at about that day*.  Dear God, please bless all of the people that love me and all of the people that I love.  Dear God, keep us safe, healthy, happy and *insert other feel good words* through out the night and bring us a bright, new, joyous tomorrow.  Amen."

After prayers, we sometimes sing songs or tell stories.  We always have a few more giggles and tell each other that we love each other a few more time.  There are always plenty of hugs and an abundance of kisses.   As I said, it is a special time for me to spend with my daughter.  I try to have as many of these nights as I can.

Tonight, after it was all done and time for her to go to her bed and go to sleep, I told her, "Susie, it is time for night-night.  It's getting late." 

Susie snuggled closer to me and said, "No Mommy.  It's not getting late.  It's not night night time.  It's still happy time."

I asked her, "Happy time?" 

She said, "Yes, Mommy.  It's still Mommy and Susie happy time."

Such sweet words.  I'm thrilled, no . . . I am so very moved, that my special time WITH her is also special time FOR her. With her simple words and tender snuggles, she has taught me a whole new meaning of the word love.  I know that tomorrow our Dear Gods will include an abundance of thanks for Mommy and Susie happy time.

Bugs II

Susie has somewhat of a fascination with bugs.  Maybe because I scream hysterically when I see the filthy, disgusting creatures and her daddy treats them like they are his long lost friends, reincarnated.  She will walk right up to them (they are usually dead or dying, on their backs, feet maybe still waving in the air, trying one last time to try to right themselves and get away).  Many times when I have to go check on Susie in the middle of the night, it is because she is yelling (in her sleep) about some bug not doing something that she wanted it to do or getting too close to her.  When I go in her room, there are no bugs to be found, but she's usually not awake either.

****Just as a side note, let's be clear . . . there are NOT THAT many bugs that come in the house.  Believe me, if there were I would have taken care of the problem, or moved away from the problem, if necessary.  However, we do live in an old house, and some times bugs do find their way to come in and die in our home.*****

The other night, I was sitting on the couch winding down from my day and I heard Susie start yelling about some bug in her room preventing her from sleeping . . . I went to check on her and she pointed to a blanket on the floor, "under there!"  Now, I would squash a bug on the floor, but I'm certainly not going to pick up a blanket and risk the creature jumping out at me.  So, I rounded up her daddy.  He picked up the blanket, and it was not there.   So, Susie started yelling and pointing, "It went under the toy box!" "It went under the shelves!" *scream, scream* "Get the bug, daddy!!" "Under the toys, daddy!" All the while, her daddy was moving furniture and toys on the great hunt for the wayward bug.  I had to leave because I was laughing so hard.

Embarassing Tweets

I work helping abused and neglected kids and because somewhat urgent things arise with them, I end up taking calls at odd hours.  I usually let the person on the other line know that they might hear my two year old in the background.  I, after all, feel compelled to uphold some semblance of decorum in my own family life when I'm dealing with people that (1) have the ability to recommend that your child be taken from your custody, or (2) have had their child removed from their custody, or (3) have a foster child in their home.  It just makes good sense.

Last night I was on the phone with a lady that has custody of a child that was neglected by his mother.  I was riding home from Sears after spending THREE hours picking out and purchasing a new refrigerator . . . with Susie in tow . . . waaaaaay past her bed time. I kept hoping that Susie would fall asleep  before we returned home.  We pulled up to my house and I began getting her out of her car seat and not only was Susie not asleep, she started talking about her daddy being home.  The lady on the other end of the call mentioned that she could hear what Susie was saying and remarked how cute she sounded.  Then . . . *drum roll please* . . . Susie said as clear and as loud as I've ever heard her speak, "Daddy at home.  Daddy naked inside. Daddy NAKED right THERE!" 

..... Ummmm. 

                    .................Ummmmmm.  How do you explain that? 

We laughed. 

For the record . . .  he was home and inside, but he was fully dressed.

Just a Little Bit

It occurs to me that Susie has learned the subtleties of "just a little bit" as opposed to all. When she woke up this morning, she was thrashing about her bed yelling at something. As I was getting out of the shower, all I heard was a series of "no! no! no!" and "aht! aht! aht!" followed by some undeterminable yelling. I poked my head in the door and asked her what she was fussing about. She rolled over and looked at me with still sleepy eyes, and said, "Want Mommy to hold Susie for a little bit." I was, as always, in a hurry to get ready for work, but I told her I had "just a little bit" of time . . . so I scooped her up and we had some snuggle time before we got on with our day.


This evening, Susie was struggling to go to sleep. Her daddy poked his head in her door and asked if she wanted to be rocked. She told him that she'd stay in her bed, but said, "I would like a little bit of water in a sippy cup, please." He passed by me on the way to kitchen and commented on her use of "a little bit". He theorized that it was as if she knew that if she just asked for water, he probably would have told her no.

Nah. She can't be that smart. . . . But can she?
When she asks Nana for sweet tea or candy, Nana knows I don't like her to have it. So, Susie is told she can have "just a little bit."

When I am in a hurry and Susie asks to be held, I will usually concede, but tell her "just for a little bit."
When I ask Susie to do something that requires patience I know I'm going to get her to be still for very long, so I tell her that I need her to sit quietly for "just a little bit."

We've taught her a fine lesson in negotiation.  She might not get everything, or all of what she wants, but if she asks for "just a little bit" it is more likely to go her way.  "Just a little bit," makes it OK. That just seems like such a complex thought process to me.

Shame on me for underestimating the intelligence of a 27 month old . . . just a little bit.

What's that smell?

Upon learning that it would be just us girls for dinner tonight, I convinced my mom to join us for dinner.  Being cranky for a variety of reasons, including having to purchase a new refrigerator and having a difficult, contentious day at work, I wasn't up for choosing our dining location.  My mom chose the local Mexican joint down the road from their home.  As soon as we arrived, Susie announced that she needed to use the potty.  So, she and I marched off to the disgusting potty.  You know the kind . . . urine still in the pot and on the toilet seat, paper strewn about the floor and that something icky kind of smell.  I disinfected everything that Susie might touch, and then let her get on to do her business.  When she finished we washed hands and headed out the door. 

We got into the booth and I notice a not-so-pleasant smell.  I looked at Susie and thought, great, I let her get potty funk on her. Or, worse, she had a "little extra" and went in her panties.  As I'm trying to figure out what to do, Susie loudly said, "I smell potty!" I told her that yeah, I did too and continued with my physical inspection of her being and my thoughts on what to do.  Then . . .*sniff, sniff* . . .  I caught another whiff of the smell. . . . *sniff, sniff* . . . Wait a minute! That's not POTTY we smell . . . It's the fish from the next table over!!!

Yummm.  I hope they enjoyed their potty fish.