Savannah and I had a little chat today about our trip to Missouri. She understands that we're going on a plane, but she still thinks that we're going to end up at Grandpa's house. It's too confusing to try to tell her otherwise.
"Mama", she said, "can Pooh Bear go on the plane wif me?"
"Of course," I told her. "He can ride with you."
"Oh my goodness! Grandpa and Grandma and Jamie will be SO EXCITED to see him!"
"Oh, I'm sure they will. You're gonna share Pooh Bear with them?"
She thought about that for half a second. "Um, Sure! Is Grandpa and Grandma and Jamie going to squeeze him really tight?"
"Yes, I think so."
Savannah (running over to Pooh Bear): Do you hear that, Boy? BOOOYYYY!!!!! You're going to Grandpa's house and they are going to be so excited to see you. (She paused) Boy!!! What? No! Don't be scared! They're not going to lose you! Boy, it's ok. Don't worry.
I think Pooh Bear was sufficiently relieved that you all aren't going to lose him.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Saturday, April 4, 2009
You are...
.....3 years, 3 months, and 7 days old today. Not much of a milestone, as milestones go, but the thing that is getting me today? You're starting to lose that little baby way of talking.
But you still say "f" for "th". Funder. Fink. Firsty.
Sometimes you say "b" for "v". My favorite is bech-ta-bles.
You want to know if I like something that I'm eating, and you say, "Mama, is it taste?"
When you walk outside to a mild spring day, you exclaim with all of the drama and inflection you can muster, "It's a beautiful day!" You said that to Grandma on the phone the other day and she thought it was hilarious.
Pretty soon you'll be saying thunder and think and thirsty and vegetables and tasty. And so I'm a little sad.
But you still say "f" for "th". Funder. Fink. Firsty.
Sometimes you say "b" for "v". My favorite is bech-ta-bles.
You want to know if I like something that I'm eating, and you say, "Mama, is it taste?"
When you walk outside to a mild spring day, you exclaim with all of the drama and inflection you can muster, "It's a beautiful day!" You said that to Grandma on the phone the other day and she thought it was hilarious.
Pretty soon you'll be saying thunder and think and thirsty and vegetables and tasty. And so I'm a little sad.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Because hospital food is just so good
When we went to visit Tara and Eli in the hospital, it was just the two of them in the room when we arrived. She laughed and said that she had kicked everybody out earlier so she could have some peace and quiet...and no wonder, because including Joey and EJ and all of the family, there had been 9 people in the room.
We didn't stay too long because Eli was getting ready to eat. We headed back down the "alligator" (elevator, for those of you not fluent in Savannish) and went to the cafeteria to look for Joey.
We spotted EJ right away. He was the only two year old in there that was running back and forth from his table to the Gatorade machine, looking longingly at the bright red and orange and blue drinks.
Lo and behold, there was a bag of chips and a container of onion rings on their table.
And suddenly, Savannah was just famished.
"Mama," she said, plaintively. "I'm soooooo hungry." All the while, she cast sideways glances at the bag of chips."
"Ok, honey," I said. "I have a sandwich and Cheerios for you in the car."
Her head shook vigorously. "No...not the car. I'm hungry right now in the hos-pit-al!"
I tried to control my giggles.
Joey's mom took pity on her and handed her an onion ring. She promptly proceeded to eat all the breading off and handed the stringy onion to me.
We didn't stay too long because Eli was getting ready to eat. We headed back down the "alligator" (elevator, for those of you not fluent in Savannish) and went to the cafeteria to look for Joey.
We spotted EJ right away. He was the only two year old in there that was running back and forth from his table to the Gatorade machine, looking longingly at the bright red and orange and blue drinks.
Lo and behold, there was a bag of chips and a container of onion rings on their table.
And suddenly, Savannah was just famished.
"Mama," she said, plaintively. "I'm soooooo hungry." All the while, she cast sideways glances at the bag of chips."
"Ok, honey," I said. "I have a sandwich and Cheerios for you in the car."
Her head shook vigorously. "No...not the car. I'm hungry right now in the hos-pit-al!"
I tried to control my giggles.
Joey's mom took pity on her and handed her an onion ring. She promptly proceeded to eat all the breading off and handed the stringy onion to me.
Friday, February 27, 2009
Maybe she just doesn't like it when I go sharp
There is a sort of gray area, I've found, between rudeness and cuteness, poor manners and respect.
Actually, it isn't that hard to discern - rather, it's just that sometimes some of the rudeness that comes out of Savannah's mouth is so funny.
And then once I make the mistake of laughing at her, she thinks it's ok to continue. So I let her. Until about the 56th time when it's not so cute anymore, and then I descend upon her with wrath and warnings, and she probably wonders what brought about the change of heart....
We like to sing. We're always humming or making up silly songs or singing tunes from Dora and Trebellina and Strawberry Shortcake.
But on occasion, when I would break out into song on my own, something about it apparently rubbed her the wrong way, because she would say, "Don't sing, don't sing!"
Which was cute and funny and I hahaha'd for the first couple dozen times it happened.
Then it gradually became less funny, and finally one day I just had it.
"Do NOT tell Mama she cannot sing. That is not nice. If you say that again...." And the dire consequences were laid out in no uncertain terms.
The next time I started to sing, I heard her say, "Mama, don't - " she broke off abruptly, and then changed her tune, her tone, her face. "Mama," she said, sweetness oozing out of her, "Go ahead. Go ahead and sing, Mama."
Why, thank you.
And then a couple of days ago, I could tell that "Don't sing, don't sing", was on the tip of her tongue, but she called to remembrance those consequences that surely awaited her, and she said instead, "Mama - enjoy your singing!"
Actually, it isn't that hard to discern - rather, it's just that sometimes some of the rudeness that comes out of Savannah's mouth is so funny.
And then once I make the mistake of laughing at her, she thinks it's ok to continue. So I let her. Until about the 56th time when it's not so cute anymore, and then I descend upon her with wrath and warnings, and she probably wonders what brought about the change of heart....
We like to sing. We're always humming or making up silly songs or singing tunes from Dora and Trebellina and Strawberry Shortcake.
But on occasion, when I would break out into song on my own, something about it apparently rubbed her the wrong way, because she would say, "Don't sing, don't sing!"
Which was cute and funny and I hahaha'd for the first couple dozen times it happened.
Then it gradually became less funny, and finally one day I just had it.
"Do NOT tell Mama she cannot sing. That is not nice. If you say that again...." And the dire consequences were laid out in no uncertain terms.
The next time I started to sing, I heard her say, "Mama, don't - " she broke off abruptly, and then changed her tune, her tone, her face. "Mama," she said, sweetness oozing out of her, "Go ahead. Go ahead and sing, Mama."
Why, thank you.
And then a couple of days ago, I could tell that "Don't sing, don't sing", was on the tip of her tongue, but she called to remembrance those consequences that surely awaited her, and she said instead, "Mama - enjoy your singing!"
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
When you're 3, the only reason to bow down...
I read Savannah a Bible story every night before bed. Her attention span varies - a lot of that has to do with how exciting the illustration that accompanies the story is. So far her favorites are the picture of Samson rending the cords that the wily Delilah had bound him with...
...the picture of the fiery horse and carriage that took Elijah up to heaven...
...and the Golden Statue in Nebuchadnezzar's dream (she was so convinced this was the Statue of Liberty for the longest time).
Last night we read about Balaam and his talking donkey, which had this fine illustration next to it.
She took one look at it - Balaam prostrating himself before the fearsome angel of the Lord with terror and repentance.
"Mama," she said, "Is he....coloring?"
Guess she had something like this in mind...
...the picture of the fiery horse and carriage that took Elijah up to heaven...
...and the Golden Statue in Nebuchadnezzar's dream (she was so convinced this was the Statue of Liberty for the longest time).
Last night we read about Balaam and his talking donkey, which had this fine illustration next to it.
She took one look at it - Balaam prostrating himself before the fearsome angel of the Lord with terror and repentance.
"Mama," she said, "Is he....coloring?"
Guess she had something like this in mind...
Sunday, February 8, 2009
But I still like Lemon Meringue and Angel Cake
2 seemingly unrelated things:
1. Savannah has a DVD, a gift from Uncle Jeremy, called Spring for Strawberry Shortcake.
2. Today was a terribly windy, dusty, ugly day.
Allow me to now show you how the two are related.
We were driving this afternoon, and Ricardo commented on the huge piles of dust that were blown up against the wall that encircles the subdivision.
"Wow, look at that," he said. "I can't believe how windy it was today."
"I know," I sighed. "I really hate this wind. I think this is why I no longer like spring....because of the horrible New Mexico wind." (Yes, I was complaining. Sorry. And to clarify, we get seriously awful winds every spring...and apparently they have started early this year).
From the backseat, Savannah pipes up. "What!? Mama, what you not yike anymore?"
Once again shocked that she was listening in, I laughed and said, "Spring, baby."
"Ohhhh....you not yike the Strawberry Shortcake anymore!" She nodded with complete understanding.
And that's how you get from a windy, ugly spring-ish day to Mama not liking Spring for Strawberry Shortcake.
I think she's sharper than I will ever hope to be.
1. Savannah has a DVD, a gift from Uncle Jeremy, called Spring for Strawberry Shortcake.
2. Today was a terribly windy, dusty, ugly day.
Allow me to now show you how the two are related.
We were driving this afternoon, and Ricardo commented on the huge piles of dust that were blown up against the wall that encircles the subdivision.
"Wow, look at that," he said. "I can't believe how windy it was today."
"I know," I sighed. "I really hate this wind. I think this is why I no longer like spring....because of the horrible New Mexico wind." (Yes, I was complaining. Sorry. And to clarify, we get seriously awful winds every spring...and apparently they have started early this year).
From the backseat, Savannah pipes up. "What!? Mama, what you not yike anymore?"
Once again shocked that she was listening in, I laughed and said, "Spring, baby."
"Ohhhh....you not yike the Strawberry Shortcake anymore!" She nodded with complete understanding.
And that's how you get from a windy, ugly spring-ish day to Mama not liking Spring for Strawberry Shortcake.
I think she's sharper than I will ever hope to be.
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