Another post about my toddler saying ridiculous things

Here's another installment of sh*t my toddler says, courtesy of Ella.

Running dialogue in the car: "Marian, STOP. Marian, don't pinch me. Mama doesn't like that when her is driving. Mama is VERY disappointed in you. When we get home you get an X for making bad choices." Gotta be the boss of someone, right? Even if it's your baby sister who is napping. You will respect my authority! (Bonus points if you get that reference.)

"This is my forehead and this is my hair head. Mama you have a forehead and a hair head too." What about Daddy and Marian? "They just has foreheads." Sorry, baldies. 

Upon explaining that certain clothes are now too small for Marian: "That's okay, she can wear it when she turns back into a baby."

When Jim told her the pizza dough needed to rest: "No, I think the pizza dough just wants to have some quiet time."

After accidentally dumping her water in my lap: "Don't worry, Mama, it'll dry." Thanks kid. I love being soaked all the way through to my underwear before 8am. 

12 month update

Stats: 19lb 3oz and 29.5 inches

Clothes: 12-18 month. Although I accidentally grabbed a pair of 2T pants this week and they pretty much fit her...

Teeth: Three more teeth broke through in the course of a week, with the fourth lateral incisor being a bastard hanging out right underneath the gum. I'm sure those teeth are partly to blame for the crap sleeping. If you are counting, that brings the tooth tally up to 7.

Sleep: Sigh. Still not sleeping through the night. Sleep training has commenced but we are still in the thick of battle.

Food: Nothing new here. Still eats a ton, still nurses a ton. I'm hoping that in the next few months she will consolidate some of her nursing sessions. Five times a day sounds reasonable, right?

Words: She's up to about 30 words now, which I think is pretty darn good for a one year old. Right now she's really into talking about "car car" and "go" which may be her way of saying, "Mom, you're super boring, please take me somewhere that has new and exciting toys for me to put in my mouth." (If you couldn't tell, she's still into putting everything in her mouth. I wouldn't be shocked if her first full sentence is, "Take that out of your mouth.")

Milestones: Oooh, a fun one! She's started following directions. Naturally they have to be very simple ("Come over to the changing pad" or "Bring that to Mommy") and naturally she has to be in the mood to obey instead of shaking her head no and running away. She's also become quite interested in putting things in baskets and taking them back out which I sort of remember from some parenting book means something. Or maybe I'm making that up. Marian, if you would sleep through the night I would know for sure. 

Miscellaneous: She briefly showed interest in coloring with a crayon vs. eating it. Baby steps, right?

A rare moment sleeping in my lap

Opening presents at her birthday party

"What is this sugary goodness that you people have been withholding from me?!"

Little diva knew she was the center of attention 

Who doesn't love a messy toddler? 

By far her favorite present- a spatula (thanks Nana!). Perfect for teething and whacking her sister

Opening presents with big sister

Her favorite part of her birthday- being told to rip paper up and getting to play with ribbon

Ella not-so-patiently waiting for Marian to open her present

Nom nom nom 

So there you have it. Twelve months of babyhood. From here on out I'm going to switch to posting sporadic updates, probably with a more thorough update around 18 months. Partially because I'm lazy (sorry kids- there will be no calendars full of your daily cuteness for you to discover later in life) and partially because after a while there's not quite as many changes on a monthly basis. And it would never, ever, have anything to do with opting for a cup of coffee over blogging or needing to keep the kids from pelting each other with toys. Never.

Creepy conversation with my toddler

 Out of nowhere, Ella mutters: The cow is just bones. The cow just has his bones.
Me: Huh?
Ella: The cow just has his bones.
Me: The cow...just has his bones?
Ella: Yes. His skin went away. Now he just has his bones.
Me: What made the cow's skin go away?
Ella: He was counting.
Me: Counting?!
Ella: He was counting and his skin goes away.
Me: Is he an alive cow or dead cow?
Ella: He's alive.
I pause for a moment and wonder what the heck she's thinking about. Me: Where is this cow?
Ella: At school.
Me: In a book?
Ella: Yeah.
Me: A Halloween book?
Ella: Yeah.
Thinking what kind of Halloween book has a skinless cow and wondering if a call to her teacher is in order, I ask: Did the cow say moo?
Ella: NO!
Upon realizing we have a toddler pronunciation issue, I think of what sounds similar: Was it a clown?
Ella: Yeah! A clown with no skin.

I boot up my computer, all the while thinking that a clown with no skin is not exactly a huge improvement over a cow with no skin. Even if it does know how to count. I type "skeleton" into the search bar and Ella excitedly announces, "There's lots more clowns!"

Phew. A cartoon skeleton that counts is okay.

Happy 1st Birthday, Marian!

My sweet baby girl,

I can't believe that you are already one.

You started off the year looking like this:

Now you're officially a walking, talking, opinionated, mischievous little toddler:

This year has been filled with lots of sleepless nights and spit up. There have been approximately 2920 diaper changes. Countless miles paced while trying to lull you off to sleep. I've had to utter the phrase, "What do you have in your mouth?!" more times than I care to remember. (In all seriousness, rocks and mulch can't taste very good. Give it a rest.)

Even though some most nights I drop off into bed feeling like I've done battle, it's been a fun year. I've loved watching you grow from a tiny baby who wasn't quite sure what to make of the world to a confident toddler who "though she be but little, she is fierce!"

I'm excited to see what you have in store for us in this next year. Knowing you, there will be lots of mischief. Most likely more sleepless nights. But lots of sweetness and slobbery kisses too.

Happy 1st Birthday!

Let's bring on the toddler years.  

A case of parenting genius gone wrong

Once upon a time, there was a toddler who really wanted a cookie. She desperately wanted a cookie. She dreamed about that wonderful cookie. 

Enter in Mean Awful Mommy who said that she couldn't have a cookie unless she ate a good dinner. The toddler would try and try to eat a good dinner, but Mean Awful Mommy made such disgusting dinners that it was impossible for the toddler to eat enough to appease her mommy and earn that cookie. 

Mean Awful Mommy got tired of seeing that cookie sitting on the pantry shelf. 

Enter in the Cookie Monster. 

Mean Awful Mommy told the toddler that unless she ate a good dinner, that very night, the Cookie Monster was going to visit the house after she was asleep and eat up that cookie. Then it would be very sad because there would be no more cookies. 

(Pssst, if you're wondering, the Cookie Monster looks and sounds a lot like Mommy.)

The toddler did not want the Cookie Monster to come and eat her cookie. Doesn't that awful Cookie Monster have any sense of ownership? It was her cookie that she got at a birthday party and no Cookie Monster was going to steal it while she was asleep. 

So the toddler gobbled up her dinner and at last got to eat her cookie. 

Mean Awful Mommy congratulated herself on this stroke of parenting genius and poured herself a celebratory glass of wine. 

The End

---------------------------

See, that's where the story would end in most households. Not in mine. 

The morning after the initial success, I told Ella that the Cookie Monster had, in fact, come by the house the night before. However, I told him that she had eaten a good dinner and got to eat her cookie so there were no cookies here for him. The Cookie Monster was so proud of her that he dropped off some more cookies for her to have. (Yes, the Cookie Monster takeths, and the Cookie Monster giveths, because Mommy wanted some cookies too and there was no way to hide all those cookies in the pantry so there was some improvising.)  

This Cookie Monster bit played out well for about a week. Until my wily little toddler caught on. 

Last night we had one cookie left in the pantry. It had taken lots and lots of willpower on my part not to eat that cookie. Ella dutifully ate the first part of her dinner. I let her down to play while the rest cooked. She brings me over her play phone and tells me the Cookie Monster is on the phone. Like a good mom, I say hi and have a fake conversation with the Cookie Monster about that last cookie in the pantry. I hang up and go back to making dinner. 

Then there's another phone call. This time it's the Orange Marmalade Monster. I talk to him too. We have a nice discussion about how we are almost out of orange marmalade and will have to go buy some at the store. 

I hand the phone back to Ella. But wait, there's another call! This time it's the Vegetable Monster. She tells me he wants her vegetables. I'm pretty positive she would be okay with letting him have them. Panicking, I get on the phone with the Vegetable Monster and broker a deal between him and the Cookie Monster. They both agree that if Ella eats her vegetables she can get her cookie. 

Crisis averted. Or so I think. 

The pretend phone rings for a final time. It's the Ice Cream Monster. Ella tells me that he says if she eats all her dinner then she can have ice cream. Crap. By this point you can bet I'm regretting inventing the Cookie Monster. Hurriedly I get on the phone with the Ice Cream Monster. I explain that we don't have any ice cream in the freezer and that I would love to chat more but I have to get back to cooking dinner. 

I can see the little wheels turning in her head. I really want ice cream more than I want a cookie. But if there is no ice cream to be had, then there is nothing for the Ice Cream Monster to steal. If I'm not going to get what I want anyway, why should I eat my dinner? 

Anyone want to take bets as to whether she ate her dinner? 

Yep, despite reminders about the cookie in the pantry, within five minutes she decided she was done. Forget about the cookie. That's nowhere near as awesome as ice cream.  

Toddler 1, Mommy 0. Or maybe I get half a point for the initial success?   

At least I got to eat the cookie.