Armed and Dangerous

It's funny how snippets of your children's language creep into your own. It makes sense. Lord knows they pick up plenty of profanity words from us. John and I still call cookies "coomies" thanks to Alice's initial pronunciation of the word. Sometimes we will just point to each other and say, "SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS" because of Angela's early propensity to do so. Well, this evening Alice provided us with a verbal "thrown gauntlet" for when we are ready to battle.

I was relaxing and semi dozing on the couch while John and Alice played with her train set. Apparently, they were having a race. In the heat of the competition, Alice informed her father, "I'm going to kick your butt and I have a shoe." I am not sure if I should be horrified or amused. I am going with amused and forewarned. Beware, world. My four year old is equipped with footware and ready to rumble.

Between Two Worlds

I am nursing some motherhood war wounds as I sit here typing. The pre-bedtime ritual started off nicely enough. The girls were happily dancing to a Backyardigan's song while I (gasp!) sat on the couch. I had just cautioned Alice about the dangers of spinning until the point of extreme dizziness. Naturally, at that point, she collapsed onto the instep of my right foot with all her weight. Her hard noggin also connected with my right knee. While I leaned over to grasp my leg in pain, Angela came by with a ladle in her hand and conked me on the head. She laughed and then tripped and fell on my injured instep. This is what I get for sitting down on the job, I guess. In all fairness, I needed the sit down. After all, I spend the majority of my day navigating between two polar worlds: the non-stop verbal world and the baby cavewoman world of non-stop movement. And thus we see why I have not blogged in a while. So without further ado, here are the latest moments of hilarity occurring in my household:

 

Yesterday Alice decided to arrange pillows on the floor for a picnic/party. Ever the considerate hostess, she kindly handed me a pillow and told me to "spread your butt on this one." Thanks, love.

 

While we had a tea party a few weeks ago, Alice, again the considerate hostess, handed me a pretend cake for my enjoyment. I told her it was delicious and asked what her secret ingredients were. She informed me that they were "sugar, leaves, and pus." I am still unsure where she learned the word pus. I did learn never to ask for seconds.

 

Angela has begun to make sounds like the dog whenever she sees a dog or someone asks her, "What sound does a dog make?" Unfortunately, my pug sounds like a 90 year old, asthmatic smoker experiencing lung failure. Needless to say, she (and I) get many quizzical looks and I dread when Old MacDonald is the song of choice at Gymboree.