Ways to Get Out of Getting in Trouble
by Allie Hadel
1. When your parents kneel down on your level to talk to you, pick a random moment, then reach out, squeeze their nose, while saying, "Beep!"
(This next one works especially well if your parents are really super mad).
2. Wait until they take a breath in their disciplining, then ask, "Are you angry?" Of course they're going to say Yes! Then tell them, "Awww, you so pwetty when you angry." Trust me, melts their heart every time.
3. Ignore them. When they call you from across the room to tell you to stop doing something or to ask you what you're doing (and you know you're not supposed to be doing it), pretend like you don't hear them. Wait until they call you several times and their frustration level builds and builds. Sometimes they will even yell your name in extreme annoyance. That's when you turn around, give them your most innocent look, and say, "Oh, you talkin' to me, Ayee?" (insert your name here).
Works every time. Trust me.
Saturday, November 30, 2013
Thursday, November 21, 2013
The birds and the bees, and socks full of sweets
Lately, Allie has been asking some pretty in depth questions -- like, the kind they don't talk about in the parenting books -- and I've found myself fumbling around to give her a satisfactory (and sometimes, age-appropriate) answer.
Let's start off with her curiosity about where babies come from. We've been talking about the potential of her having a little brother or sister, and thinking hypothetically, I asked her if she would like to have another little baby in the family.
Her face lit up. "Right now?" she asked excitedly.
"Uh, well no, not like this minute . . ."
She jumped up and ran over to the hall closet, wanting her coat. "Come on, Mommy. We go to the store and get one now, okay."
I was confused. "What?"
She gave me a look, clearly wondering why I wasn't following her logic. "We go to store and get a baby. We go to Target now and get one, in the dollar section. Like Baby Fat Cat!"
"Ahhhh." I suddenly realized where her little mind was headed. She got a new baby doll with accessories for her birthday (which she named Baby Fat Cat, after our fat cat Muffintop) and last time we were at Target, I took her through the toy section and showed her where I got Baby Fat Cat. Which, by the way, was not in the dollar section, so I have no idea where that came from. Maybe because we always check out the dollar section before we start shopping.
I knelt down next to her. "Honey, Baby Fat Cat is just a pretend baby," I explained. "Real live babies, like when you were a little baby, don't come from Target or any other store."
"Oh." She scrunched up her face, deep in thought. "Then . . . where babies come from? Where me come from when I was yittle yittle baby Ayee?"
Oh boy.
"Um, well, babies come from . . . babies are born . . . ummm ." Then inspiration struck. I lifted up my shirt and showed her my c-section scar. "See, babies come from right there."
"Ohhhh." And for now, that seemed to satisfy her.
----------
Along those same awkward questions, Allie had another little revelation about a week ago. She finished up going to the bathroom, and did her usual "shake shake tap tap" routine. I've tried explaining to her multiple times that she doesn't have anything to "tap tap," but she hasn't really seemed to pay attention.
Until today.
"Why me no need to tap tap? Day-poo (Drake, aka Drakie-poo) tap taps."
"Because Drake is a little boy, and you're a little girl." Yeah, smart move, I know.
"Day-poo a boy, and me a girl?"
"Yep."
"And you a girl, and daddy a boy?"
"Yep. Wipe and pull your pants up and let's wash your hands, okay?"
She ignored me. She was focused. "And Oo-ah a girl, and PopPop a boy?" (my parents)
"Yep."
"And Ooma a girl, and Doodad a boy?" (Justin's parents)
Sigh. "Yep."
After running through about 20 more people that we knew, differentiating whether they were boys or girls, she asked the question: "Mommy, why me a girl? What makes me a girl, and boys a boy?"
Awesome.
"Uh . . . well, let's see here." I frantically racked my brain for an age-appropriate answer that would satisfy her curiosity. "God made little girls girls, and little boys boys."
"But what makes me a girl?"
Smart kid. "Well, little girls and little boys have different body parts," I said. "Hey! I know! Do you want a marshmallow? Maybe even 2 or 3 or 4 or 5 marshmallows?"
She jumped up off the potty, totally forgetting about girls vs. boys. "YEAH! Me want one two free four six seven eight nine ten ewevin twelve eighteen twenty marshmallows!"
"Okay then! Wash your hands and let's get marshmallows!"
Never underestimate the power of diversion/distraction with toddlers. Ever.
----------
We were driving home from daycare a couple days ago. The city of Greer has their Christmas decorations up already, including lights in the shapes of Christmas trees, wreaths, stockings, poinsettias, etc, hanging on the telephone poles. Allie was pointing out each one as we drove past them and commenting how pretty they were, but stopped when we passed a stocking light.
"Mommy, what dat thing?"
"That's called a stocking."
"Stockin'? What a stockin'?"
"Well, it's like a big sock. You hang the sock from the fireplace at Christmas time, and then you stuff it full of candy and toys and treats and all kinds of goodies."
Allie was silent for awhile, pondering this concept. Finally, "But, but . . . why you put candy in yours socks?"
I'd actually never thought about that before. "Well because . . . because . . . you just . . . do."
She lifted her foot up. "We put candy in mine socks when we get home?"
"No, not those socks," I was quick to answer. I could just picture her stuffing an assortment of chocolates and lollipops into her sweaty little socks, then forgetting to take them out before sticking her socks in her hamper.
"But you just said we put candy in ours socks."
"I know Als, but, well, stockings are different."
"But you said stockin's are socks."
"I know --"
"So yets (sic) put candy in ours socks, okay!"
I had no good answer for her. "Okay, maybe later."
Let's start off with her curiosity about where babies come from. We've been talking about the potential of her having a little brother or sister, and thinking hypothetically, I asked her if she would like to have another little baby in the family.
Her face lit up. "Right now?" she asked excitedly.
"Uh, well no, not like this minute . . ."
She jumped up and ran over to the hall closet, wanting her coat. "Come on, Mommy. We go to the store and get one now, okay."
I was confused. "What?"
She gave me a look, clearly wondering why I wasn't following her logic. "We go to store and get a baby. We go to Target now and get one, in the dollar section. Like Baby Fat Cat!"
"Ahhhh." I suddenly realized where her little mind was headed. She got a new baby doll with accessories for her birthday (which she named Baby Fat Cat, after our fat cat Muffintop) and last time we were at Target, I took her through the toy section and showed her where I got Baby Fat Cat. Which, by the way, was not in the dollar section, so I have no idea where that came from. Maybe because we always check out the dollar section before we start shopping.
I knelt down next to her. "Honey, Baby Fat Cat is just a pretend baby," I explained. "Real live babies, like when you were a little baby, don't come from Target or any other store."
"Oh." She scrunched up her face, deep in thought. "Then . . . where babies come from? Where me come from when I was yittle yittle baby Ayee?"
Oh boy.
"Um, well, babies come from . . . babies are born . . . ummm ." Then inspiration struck. I lifted up my shirt and showed her my c-section scar. "See, babies come from right there."
"Ohhhh." And for now, that seemed to satisfy her.
----------
Along those same awkward questions, Allie had another little revelation about a week ago. She finished up going to the bathroom, and did her usual "shake shake tap tap" routine. I've tried explaining to her multiple times that she doesn't have anything to "tap tap," but she hasn't really seemed to pay attention.
Until today.
"Why me no need to tap tap? Day-poo (Drake, aka Drakie-poo) tap taps."
"Because Drake is a little boy, and you're a little girl." Yeah, smart move, I know.
"Day-poo a boy, and me a girl?"
"Yep."
"And you a girl, and daddy a boy?"
"Yep. Wipe and pull your pants up and let's wash your hands, okay?"
She ignored me. She was focused. "And Oo-ah a girl, and PopPop a boy?" (my parents)
"Yep."
"And Ooma a girl, and Doodad a boy?" (Justin's parents)
Sigh. "Yep."
After running through about 20 more people that we knew, differentiating whether they were boys or girls, she asked the question: "Mommy, why me a girl? What makes me a girl, and boys a boy?"
Awesome.
"Uh . . . well, let's see here." I frantically racked my brain for an age-appropriate answer that would satisfy her curiosity. "God made little girls girls, and little boys boys."
"But what makes me a girl?"
Smart kid. "Well, little girls and little boys have different body parts," I said. "Hey! I know! Do you want a marshmallow? Maybe even 2 or 3 or 4 or 5 marshmallows?"
She jumped up off the potty, totally forgetting about girls vs. boys. "YEAH! Me want one two free four six seven eight nine ten ewevin twelve eighteen twenty marshmallows!"
"Okay then! Wash your hands and let's get marshmallows!"
Never underestimate the power of diversion/distraction with toddlers. Ever.
----------
We were driving home from daycare a couple days ago. The city of Greer has their Christmas decorations up already, including lights in the shapes of Christmas trees, wreaths, stockings, poinsettias, etc, hanging on the telephone poles. Allie was pointing out each one as we drove past them and commenting how pretty they were, but stopped when we passed a stocking light.
"Mommy, what dat thing?"
"That's called a stocking."
"Stockin'? What a stockin'?"
"Well, it's like a big sock. You hang the sock from the fireplace at Christmas time, and then you stuff it full of candy and toys and treats and all kinds of goodies."
Allie was silent for awhile, pondering this concept. Finally, "But, but . . . why you put candy in yours socks?"
I'd actually never thought about that before. "Well because . . . because . . . you just . . . do."
She lifted her foot up. "We put candy in mine socks when we get home?"
"No, not those socks," I was quick to answer. I could just picture her stuffing an assortment of chocolates and lollipops into her sweaty little socks, then forgetting to take them out before sticking her socks in her hamper.
"But you just said we put candy in ours socks."
"I know Als, but, well, stockings are different."
"But you said stockin's are socks."
"I know --"
"So yets (sic) put candy in ours socks, okay!"
I had no good answer for her. "Okay, maybe later."
Sunday, November 10, 2013
20 questions, as answered by 3-year-old Allie
Each year, starting this year, I'll be asking Allie the same 20 questions on her birthday. It'll be fun to see how her answers change each year. :) Her answers are in blue.
1. What is your favorite color? red
2. What is your favorite toy? my new Baby Fat Cat
3. What is your favorite fruit? a grape
4. What is your favorite TV show? Super Why
5. What is your favorite thing to eat for lunch? applesauce. But we can't have applesauce today because there is no more, so you have to get more at the store yater.
6. What is your favorite outfit? my pwincess dress, my pink one
7. What is your favorite game to play? pway house with baby Pappie (Paxton)
8. What is your favorite snack? goldfish
9. What is your favorite animal? yion. (lion) No, me scary with yions. Me like a birdie. (Me: What kind of birdie?) The one that goes tweet tweet.
10. What is your favorite song? Old MacDonald
11. What is your favorite book? BumBum Bee Bear (Bumble B. Bear) and my pwincess books (The Princess Books of Manners)
12. Who is your best friend? Drake and Paxton
13. What is your favorite cereal? doggie one (Scooby Doo cereal)
14. What is your favorite thing to do outside? play ball
15. What is your favorite drink? orange juice
16. What is your favorite holiday? my birts-day (birthday)
17. What do you like to take to bed with you at night? blue bear, Mickey Mouse, Wubbies, 'Nuggle (Snuggle) Bear, Baby Fat Cat
18. What is your favorite thing to eat for breakfast? pancakes
19. What do you like to eat for dinner? ice cream
20. What do you want to be when you grow up? big. I'm not big now. I'm yittle.
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| The princess before her party. |
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| Our little family |
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