Friday, December 2, 2011

Sounds of the Season

I was reminded recently that I haven't done much on here (again). Le Sigh. The trend was that I would blog on my lunch hour at work...then work went totally haywire and lunch hours became "let's see what I can cram down my throat in 10 minutes."

But, since Monkey has been in RARE form lately I just had to get back on my bloggy horse and share some gems.

Enjoy.

1. "Mommy, I love you so much... I'm gonna eat your mipples off." (mipples = uh, yeah)
I responded with: Um, thanks, but you already did that.

2. "When you're done getting married wif Daddy, can I marry him?"
Me: No, baby. We don't live in Kentucky. You can't marry Daddy, because he's your daddy.
"But, I want a ring like yours!"
Aha... that girl is all about the bling. ;)

3. While Christmas caroling, after over an hour of walking in the cold rain, drenched and singing ironically about glad tidings, and cheer, and all that crap:
"UGH! I can't *TAKE* it anymore!!"
Me: Can't take WHAT, hon?
"This! Everything! I can't TAKE. IT."
-- This was met with appreciative laughter from the similarly drenched adults in the group. Daddy seized the opportunity to load her into the van and get out of the miserable walking-around-ness.

4. In the car, on the way home from visiting Grandma and Grandpa:
"Mommy, can we go to McDonalds? Pleeeeeeeeeeeze?"
Me: I don't know, babe. We'll have to see.
"But they have chicken nuggets and those are *healthy* for me. And, milk. Milk is healthy. Don't you want me to eat healthy stuff? Like, french fries?"
Me: Yeah, nice try there. Fries are NOT healthy. But you take your nap, and we'll see.

5. She complied, and after sleeping over an hour in her car seat, the snoozy Monk awoke with:
"Hi Mommy...
Can we go to McDonald's now?"
Me: Wow. You're really not going to let that go, are you?
"Nnnnnnnnnope."  (pronounced "nnnnnooo-puh")


6. With the upswing in successful potty trips, she's almost totally trained. Still doing Pull-ups at night (mostly for the sake of laundry, but even so, she's usually dry most mornings now). She stayed up WAY past bedtime last night and as Daddy informed me (upon my return from choir practice): "Beware. She has FULLY lost her mind this evening."

So, he and I were talking briefly and behind him, past our bedroom doorway goes the unmistakeable sight of bare preschooler heinie. An increasingly common occurrence, as she celebrates her upgrade to big girl pants.

But this streak came with a bonus... instead of the normal running and just giggling, she was singing.

"Feliz Navidad."

At the top of her lungs.
Buck naked.

...I kid you not.

Well, almost "Feliz Navidad"... she put her own twist on the lyrics and was actually streaking through the house singing, "Police Mommy Done." She argued vehemently that WE are wrong and those ARE the right words... I will never hear that song the same way.


7. I have mentioned before: Monkey is *not* a morning person. Not that I am, either. But, yesterday she woke up all kinds of grouchy, hungry, and whiny... and a good half hour earlier than usual. Which is kind of bad because that half-hour is when when Daddy and I do "fun" things like shower and floss our teeth. So, she was up, but that didn't mean normal morning stuff wasn't still on the agenda. I had about five minutes left to get in and OUT of the shower, with any hope of getting to work on time.

She picked that time to whiiiiiiiiiii-iiiiiinnnnnnnnne. She wanted Star Wars (disk was downstairs). She wanted breakfast (too early). She wanted Daddy. She wanted me to sit with her. There was a lot of I want-I want- I want going on.

We have started employing the parent's dream discipline tool: SANTA IS WATCHING. Lately, instead of singing "You Can't Always Get What You Want" we have been going with "Santa Claus Is Coming to Town." (She can now often be heard singing the chorus quietly to herself as she does something she doesn't want to, like cleaning up her toys.)

I was trying to run into the shower after setting her up on our bed with the TV (on the WRONG show, obviously, because it was a glass-half-empty day in Monkeyville) and she was yelling she wanted me.

I had poked my head back into our room to tell her we were done, when divine intervention struck:

My cell phone, charging on the dresser, buzzed. Loudly.

Without skipping a beat, I pointed to it and said, "See! That's probably Santa... You'd better stop."

Oh. Mah. Gawwwwwwwwwwd.

The look! The look on her face was just... priceless.

Her eyes went wide as saucers, and she kept looking from the phone, to me, and back. It was the epitome of "Ho...ly...shhhhhhh...!!"

She suddenly started doing the "stop-crying" suck-back sniffles.


I left the room, guffawing as I leapt into the shower... thinking:
Mother. Of the. YEAR. Oh, yeahhhh...!!

*After my shower I heard her eating breakfast with Daddy, whom she told: "Yeah, I was being a stinker... but then, Mommy's phone went off and it was Santa and I better STOP so I did." 

To his credit, Daddy choked back his laughter... I, however, lost it and did the ugly-snort-laugh.

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