Conversations with a two year old

"Dorothy, you have dis teddy bear. Now Lion, you try to take it." Mom, pretending to be Lion, says in a gruff voice, "Why can't I have my own teddy bear?" You contemplate the situation and then say, "Actually, it's my teddy bear." Huh? What 2.5 year old knows the word 'actually'?

As I was getting ready for work, you say "Oh no! Mom, you got a hoe (hole) in yo sock. I'll fix it. Need tape!" Wouldn't that look good? Thanks for looking out for me.

On the discussion of brushing teeth - which is like pulling teeth. Dad says, "You can't eat anymore candy until you brush your teeth. The sugar bugs will rot your teeth." You didn't have to think long before you came up with a way around it, "Eat salt!" you exclaim. And you would, you are that stubborn. And you actually eat salt. And flour as evidenced below.

Bits and pieces

Has it been almost three weeks since I've posted anything? I suppose time flies when nothing else is going on. It could happen. Waiting so long to write anything makes it harder, not knowing how to say everything. So here are some bits and pieces (and photos) from the last few weeks.

You've been talking. And talking and talking and talking. If someone asks you to take a nap, you say, "I won't!" It's so funny that we have to turn our heads and laugh. You tell stories. "Once pon atime, der was a little girl name Yaya. Yaya was going to Grandma's house. Den da big bad wowf jump out. Den he went to Gramma's house and ate her all up." That's reality. "What's that, mommy? Hoar frost? Oh, I see. It's beautiful." And it was beautiful for four mornings in a row.


You and Skye have been good buddies lately. It was really nice on Saturday so we went for a walk before supper. We tied Skye's leash to the sled and when she got excited and wanted to run she would pull you. Your excited giggles were priceless, completely opposite from your demands that I "let go, put the leash down" when I was pulling you and leading Skye as she dawdled. You've also befriended the poor thing so much that she is constantly being harassed, putting blankets on her head, walking into her in a push-you-around kind of way, hugging her while gritting your teeth and sometimes just petting her and telling her she's a good dog.


Last Friday, we decided our outing would be going to Mommy and Daddy's work. I needed to snag some photos of you off my hard drive anyway and you love riding the elevator so it was an easy sell. We were lucky enough to get a parking spot right across the street. When I took you out of the van, I pointed at the building and told you we were there. You looked up and said, "Way up der? Yayyy!" You got so excited feeling the rush of the elevator moving so quickly upwards. Looking out the window over downtown would have been better had you seemed to actually acknowledge the things I'd ask you about. (Can you see the little cars? "Where?" Can you see the little people? "Where?" Can you see the road? "Where?") Then we went to Daddy's work, right on ground level (until they move back into their head office) a few blocks away. Once we got in, you decided to take us on a tour, "Want to show you sumthin, Mom" as you lead us through places even Daddy didn't go. We met Daddy's boss, talked to lots of people, got snacks, worked a little magic in Photoshop and snagged a couple chips before we left. You were pretty happy to have gone to work because almost everyday you say, "Where you going, Mom?" To work. "Can I come, too?" To which I tell you that you have to be big like Mommy to go to work. "I eat lots and grow bigger NOW."

This is your first Photoshop masterpiece.

For Valentine's Day, Creeson sent over a little gift bag for you. There was a little bear holding a heart, chocolates, a sucker, a heart cookie, some cinnamon hearts and conversation hearts. When you saw the bear, you hugged him and said, "Creeson loves me!"

I also surprised you on Valentine's morning with a bunch of decorated cookies! Yayyy! Cookies for breakfast, lunch and snacktime. They were the best sugar cookies ever, so soft and tasty!

Yesterday, we were crushed when we tried to go to the pool and found that it was full. We got back in the van, were driving around and your Dad said, "Don't fall asleep. We're gonna go find something else to do." A couple minutes later, he looked back at his very droopy-eyed daughter and said the same thing again. You perked up and lashed out with, "Don't say dat, Dad. You already said dat!" We ended up going to the movies, the Chipmunks Movie to be precise. And it wasn't as bad as I'd dreaded. Of course, we didn't stay the whole time, just long enough to for you to totally gorge on popcorn.

Even though we didn't get to swim, you still got to look cute (and maybe a little weird) in your bathing suit!

Since the medicine debacle, you are officially weaned. This has done wonders for your sleep. Maybe. Because at the same time, you also gave up napping. So now you are so tired when 7:30 rolls around that you usually fall asleep within a minute of turning out the light. I suppose you still wake up one or two times a night, but it's an improvement over the screaming to nurse that would keep us up for much longer. Now you cry, "Warm milk!" And this time your dad has to deliver!

A dogged determination

Also known as stubborn. Oh my god, are you stubborn! Having come down with a nasty case of bronchitis, we ended up taking you to the doctor on Monday morning after a night of laboured breathing, yelped coughing and a little vomit on the side. She prescribed Amoxicillin - delicious banana medicine - just as your parents before you took when they got sick.

The first time, you just wouldn't have it so I said fine. The second time, we held you down and forced it into you which you violently spat out soaking your clothes and hair. The third time I withheld your favourite bedtime "snack" to which you rolled over and went to sleep without. The fourth time Nana, Dad and I held you down with the same results as the first forcing. And now we offer it in the morning, at noon and at bedtime.

You politely say no.

And you go to bed without. And wake up without. Tricks do not work. Putting it in milkshakes doesn't work. Spiking your warm milk doesn't work. "White milk," you demand. Tonight will be the third night. I can only imagine what's going to happen.