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Tag Archives: kids say the darndest things

Conversation Highlights

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Gareth aka Buddy (When he was born Emmie couldn’t say Gareth so we all called him Buddy and it stuck): 

He’s going through a superhero phase right now, and he’s an especially big fan of Batman (thanks in part to his Batman t-shirt and his Batman Little People toy). So when I correct him for disobeying, I usually say, “Gareth, Batman wouldn’t hit/bite/steal toys/etc.” It always works because Gareth wants to be just like Batman. Yesterday he was hitting Emmie with a stick, so I (Gently!) Poked him with it a few times to show him how it felt.

I told him, “See, Gareth, it hurts when you hit Sissy with the stick.”

Gareth frowned really big and said, “Mommy, Batman wouldn’t hit Buddy!”

I stand corrected.

Emmie:

Emmie and I like to look at the dresses on ModCloth. I’ve never ordered anything from there, but it’s fun to dream. We like to play, “Pick out a dress for Mommy.” The winner is usually something pink. I know you’re shocked!

Last night, Emmie’s favorite was this frothy confection. I told her, “That’s cute, Emmie. I bet your Daddy would like it too.”

And she replied, “Yeah, Mommy, I bet Daddy would take it from you!”

I had to do a double take. Did I just get bedroom advice from my four-year-old? I’m confident she didn’t know what she was saying. At least I think I am. Either that or she thinks her Daddy likes to dress up in pink polka-dot party dresses. I’m not sure which one worries me more.

One thing’s for sure, life is never dull when you have a very precocious child. We try hard to keep things innocent in front of Emmie, and still she understands things way beyond her years. I wish I could have a nickel for every time someone has asked me, “What are you saying to this child?!” My answer is always, “I have no idea!”

One time we were giving a college-aged church member and his dad a ride somewhere, and Emmeline told them a pretty accurate story of how she was born. Thankfully the dad just thought it was hilarious! I tried changing the subject, but Emmie was determined to finish her story. When we got home she and I had a talk about what are appropriate stories to tell people. Someone asked me where she got her information from, and I told them, “She asks a lot of questions, so we try to give her an honest answer but one that is innocent and age-appropriate.” She’s a verbal processor, and when she wants to understand something, she’ll ask you about it nonstop until she understands. Evidently she reads more into our answers then we’re telling her. We’re in trouble with this kid!

I’m just hoping this fascination with how things work, math, and body parts means that she’s going to grow up to be rich, successful scientist who can support Josh and me in our old age. We’ll have earned it after raising this crazy (more like crazy-smart) girl.

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Gunfight at the kiddie corral

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Emmeline got into a territorial dispute with Gareth today. Essentially her message was, “This family ain’t big enough for the two of us.” She explained to him–and me–that I couldn’t have two babies, and she was the baby in my tummy, and she was my baby girl, and Gareth couldn’t be my baby anymore. 

Gareth just ignored her and kept painting with his yogurt. 

Emmie’s Interpretation of the Gospel

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“And when you disobey, God dies on the cross and gives all your punishments to Abigail. And then you turn into a baby and scream and cry like a baby. Isn’t that so fun?”

We’re still losing several things in translation. And I’m not sure why Emmie’s poor cousin is getting all the punishments. Maybe wishful thinking on Emmie’s part so she’s not getting her own punishments? Who knows.

Varmints

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We have a mouse. Not the cuddly friendly Cinderella type mouse. The type that lives in a cabinet and is currently opening up a motel with a couple of bold roaches. We have a wonderful exterminator who has already taken care of it, and Josh isn’t afraid of mice, so you can guess who won’t be allowed to leave for work in the morning without checking the traps. Owning a home has taught me a lot of patience when it comes to unwelcome guests of the four-to-eight legged variety. It may not seem like much, but the fact that I didn’t call the exterminator last week when I saw a dead spider is huge personal growth for me. Yes, I can now accept the fact that dead bugs means the extermination is working, and it’s not a corpse left there to scare me by a spider army who will come attack me in my sleep one night. That fear might be a tad far-fetched. Also, I didn’t even threaten to move to a hotel when I found out about the mouse this afternoon. More spiritual growth. But I will probably burn everything that touched any of those cabinets. I’m thinking about hiding Josh’s car keys so he can’t leave for work without checking the mouse traps and sterilizing everything within a 10 foot radius of the offending cabinet. Hey–I’ve come a long way in a year. Don’t expect too much to soon. It’s a mouse after all. The exterminator reassured me that our house is one of the mildest he’s seen. I thought, “How can people live with more than one roach at a time?! You’ve seen them crawling on the ceiling?!” I immediately envisioned some type of weird roach hoarding situation. Anyway, I will understand if you’re all so repulsed by the mouse and roach trespassing in my cabinet that you never want to set foot in our house again. Really, if I didn’t live here I might feel the same way. Which reminds me of something I overheard Emmeline praying outside last night:

“Dear God, help me be brave and brave in the dark and remember it’s not scary; it’s just bugs.” I’ve tried not to pass my paranoia onto her, but it’s so all-encompassing that some of it was bound to stick. I may have to steal that prayer from her. “It’s not scary; it’s just bugs.” Scratch that–it’s terrifying.

In which Emmeline is convinced her world is ending

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We’ve all been sick this week except for Emmeline. Don’t worry, she’s kept us busy by needing stitches and getting into a jar of Icy Hot. But even Josh has been home sick for the last couple of days. His boss finally told him, “Josh, stop coming to work when you have a fever!” This morning I took Gareth to the doctor to make sure the little guy was holding up OK. Here’s how the conversation went with Emmeline this morning when I told her where Gareth and I were going.

(Emmeline wanders into our bedroom)

Me: Good morning, Emmeline.
Emmie: No, I want to snuggle with Daddy!

(Emmie crawls up on the bed)

Me: Emmie, I’m taking Gareth to see Dr. Chris this morning so Dr. Chris can give him some medicine to make him feel better.
Emmie (bursts into tears): But we have medicine! You don’t need to go to Dr. Chris!
Josh: Emmie, Dr. Chris has special medicine.
Emmie (still in tears): But Mommy, Daddy is sick! And you will go and go and you won’t come back tomorrow or tomorrow!
Me: Emmie, I’ll be home by lunch.
Josh (trying to appease Emmie): Emmie, do you want me to go to your room and turn on a movie for you?
Emmie (cries even harder): But I don’t watch movies in my room in the morning!
Me (whispering to Josh): In the morning we watch PBS in the living room.
Emmie: Yeah, Daddy! I’m supposed to watch PBS!

Poor Josh could not win. And poor Emmie was convinced her Daddy would not be able to handle things alone today. I wonder how she’ll react tomorrow when she finds out I’m going on an overnight trip. Maybe I should have some candy ready to soften the blow.

My funny 2-year old: The doctor is in

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On heartburn: Emmeline (after consuming a lot of Mexican food) points to her chest, “Mommy, the food burned me.”

On indigestion: Emmeline (after eating her weight in M&M minis) sticks out her stomach, “I have big M&M tummy.”