Mommy, I need to go potty shouted from her bedroom where she is “napping.”
Katie, I can’t help you right now, you’ll have to do it by yourself shouted from the couch where I am nursing Tristan.
Lots of noise as the step-stool is dragged across the tile so she can get on the toilet. Silence while she’s on the toilet, then flushing.
Here are some of the highlights from our Easter:
Three Year Old Manners
After reminding Katie that there were children younger than her at our community egg hunt, she went into the field and collected exactly six eggs.
It started as an accidental tradition but each year we go to our community egg hunt with my sister and niece and then return to our house to dye eggs. This year the girls did much better with the dyeing although there was still some smashing in the end.
Katie is a kid now. A reasonable potty using kid (ok, well as reasonable as a woman will ever get.) The problem is, this doesn’t mean that she is totally self sufficient. As Jen will attest, I forget this frequently. The thing is she often lulls me into a false sense of security by talking and acting in a way that makes me think she can be left unattended for more than thirty seconds. Honestly, we can leave her unattended for some activities. She will sit in a chair and “read” books for what seems like a whole 3 minutes and we can often leave her at the table with her Crayola Color Wonder Markers. Color Wonder markers are quite possibly the greatest product God (or The Man, depending on your religious views) has ever bestowed upon parents. — OK, sure, things like the disposable diaper, TiVo and Maclaren strollers are far more important, but when it comes to craft time nothing but play-doh comes close. — If you are not familiar with the Color Wonder line of products, the idea is that they will only color special Color Wonder paper. Take them to a table, wall, shirt or important work documents and they leave no trace. — This amazing feat in dye technology will soon be over shadowed by zubbles when the do finally ship, because even as an adult I still love bubbles.
I am so doomed. When Katie is a teenager I am going to be a wreck. The boys on our block outnumber the girls and most of them are slightly older than Katie. I have often joked with their fathers that I am going to make them wear tracking collars when they get older so I know when one of them comes near Katie. After our trip yesterday to the aquarium I am beginning to wonder if it’s the boys I have to worry about.
Today Katie hugged me and said I love you, Boots. My name is not Boots and I was wearing no footwear at the time. She’s been calling Stefan Troll all day because he puts his feet on the coffee table, making a bridge for her to get by. Three times today I’ve found myself singing Dora, Dora, Dora, the explorer… Katie couldn’t reach something in her playroom and shouts ¡Ayudame! I want to scream How did this happen to me! or maybe the more appropriate thing to say would be ¡Cómo hizo esto sucede a mí!
Yes, my life has been reduced to a Dora episode.
Nature has done a lot for mommy evolution — I myself have great mastery of the eyes-in-the-back-of-the-head that only mothers seem to possess. Unfortunately, I have yet to master x-ray vision and Katie knows it. She devises a plan in her head …as soon as Mommy is out of the room I will [insert something she isn't supposed to do]. Yesterday as I stepped into the bathroom and shut the door I failed to notice the sound of her wheels turning…
Our dogs, when desiring freedom from their crates, can make noises so eerily creepy that even Hollywood horror movie directors would be loathe to cast them. These noises, so strange and un-bark like, are next to impossible to describe. I can attempt by likening them to the sound of 100 weasels being systematically tortured by cackling howler monkeys, screaming ravens and crying chinchillas — and that is just Sergeant. Jen and I have grown accustomed to the sound and it doesn’t even bother us anymore, but Katie still does not like it. They were in full effect today while I was changing my clothes and Katie came in to see what was wrong. I told her not to let them out, that I would get them when I was done. To my amusement this is what I hear next:
ahh it’s ok puggies, don’t cry, shhh, shh
Twinkle, Twinkle little star how I wonder what you are
Up above the sky so bright…
… and the dogs are quiet.
From what everyone tells us Katie’s mastery of the English language is fantastic for her age — she also knows a little Spanish (thank you Dora), a little French (thank you Daddy’s job) and a little German (thank you Muzzy) — but seeing that she’s still only almost three we have our fair share of moments where we think, What on earth is she talking about?
Why risk biting skin when you can take one bite from each slice?
Recently Aunt Jess (and her dog Sydney) made the wise choice of calling to talk to Katie during the day. The timing seemed to work and after some animated conversation and Katie proposing the usual — I want to talk to Sydney — we hear this:
Can I talk to your big man?
What was that Katie?
Can I talk to your big man, the one who take care of Lucy.
Lucy is Sydney’s constant companion and belongs to Kevin, Aunt Jess’s boyfriend. Katie has never met either. Apparently though, she has a visual picture of Kevin — he is big. Unfortunately the big man wasn’t around for conversation, maybe next time. Hopefully she doesn’t ask if he lives in the big house.
(Photo by Aunt Jess. Foreground: Lucy, Background: Sydney)