Elle-isms

E, after losing her train of thought mid-sentence: What was I going to say?

Me: I don't know, sweetheart.

E: I wasn't asking you! I was asking my brain!

E: Do carrots grow on trees?
Me: No, they grow underground.
E: Well, how does the farmer know when they're ready?
Good question, indeed.

Before I go to kindergarten, I'm going to learn every word there is. And in Spanish and French.

I believe it, kiddo.

To her daycare teacher: "I'm having scallops for dinner tonight. They're delicious and packed with protein!"

E, demystifying her dinner strategy: I like to eat the things that don't taste good first. Then they don't mess up the taste of the good things in my mouth.

Me: What did you draw?
Elle: Our family. Me and Elise are flying kites. But we're only holding onto them with our giant thumbs.

E is constantly making up songs, which often are comprised of nonsensical words or phrases, but somehow always end up rhyming perfectly. 

E: I better take a bath tonight so my friends don't think you're a bad Mommy who lets her kids stink.
Hmmm. I do vaguely remember using this as a time-for-bath argument in the remote past...

Me: Elle, that picture is gorgeous!
Elle: Thank you! Is it so beautiful that you want to stay awake all night looking at it?

E: "Take a picture of me doing my batgirl pose"

Destined for Broadway

Ho ho ho

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Glamour Shots

There is nothing glamorous about motherhood. 

Your hair is never done. "Makeup" means chapstick on a good day. Showers are utilitarian at best, and are of duration that would make the most ardent Water Conservation lobbyist proud. 

Your wardrobe consists entirely of items that can withstand the test of BabySnot, Spitup, Drool, and a host of other unmentionable bodily fluids.

You can't remember the last time you sat down for a meal without being asked for 2,385 things that are suddenly deemed vital to the eating process. Milk. More milk. Cut this. Into triangles, not rectangles. (Insert food item here) can only be consumed with my (insert color/type/character here) spoon. Slide me up. Etc.

In fact, you can't remember the last time you sat down for a meal at all.

You get bit while nursing, and not just any bite but a bite-twist-pull bite that makes you wonder why God allows teeth to erupt in the mouths of babes under a year of age. As if that isn't punishment enough, thanks to the combination of open wound and Baby MouthGerms, you then develop full-on sepsis with 104 degree fever and feel as if you will surely die.

You are never fashionably late. Instead, you are beyond-ridiculously-often-miss-the-event-entirely late. Or glad-your-colleagues-need-you-in-the-call-pool-so-you-won't-get-fired late.

A wild night means staying up past 9pm. Bonus points if you're doing something other than making bottles, washing bottles, or cleaning pump parts.

You don't flinch at backwash. Or identifiable completely intact food items in diapers. 

Indeed, motherhood is no Glamour Shot. But give me one of these million-watt baby smiles, or the unbridled joy of a groovin' 10-month-old and I'll gladly forsake the feather boas, hairsprayed bangs, and bright blue eye shadow. 

Turns out, glamour is overrated. 

Not bitter

Here it is. Documentation that both of my children find it humorous to mock me with incessant repetition of the syllables "Dada, Dada, Dada". This video is from the first few days Elise started saying it (early October), and she's been going strong ever since. She calls Elle something that sounds like "Gaga", but as yet no definite utterance of that other family member's name. You know, the one who carried her in utero for 9 months? The one who provides 99% of her diaper changing, 100% of her feeding, and 110% of her middle-of-the-night need for company? Yes, that Mama one who remains anonymous. Hmph. 

Halloween

In my small sample size of n=1, four seems to be the age at which all holidays, celebrations, and special occasions rouse excitement levels of epic proportions. While the last few Halloweens have been fun, this was the year Elle truly got into to the pumpkin carving, costume selection, candy acquiring, and appreciation of all things spooky. My little drama queen thrives on celebration of even the most mundane (can't imagine who she got that from), so give her a legitimate reason to be festive and she's unstoppable.

I've learned from years past that Elle has a real problem with Costume Buyer's Remorse, so I decided to wait until the last minute to force her to commit. Even so, I was partially expecting her to wake up Halloween morning with an incontrovertible desire to be the Queen of England or Chewbacca or something equally impossible to assemble in the chaotic scramble that is Attempt-To-Get-To-Work-On-Time.



But she held unwaveringly to her decision to be a candy corn witch, and spent Halloween Eve rigorously rehearsing her role. This, of course, included "flying" around the house on a broomstick.

I had all sorts of creative and embarrassing cute costume ideas for Elise, but ended up going with a simple and comfy skeleton ensemble. Apparently this was the year of the skeleton as 2 of her suitors at school wore matching outfits.

Surrounded by boys at such a young age...

I did manage to work in the piglet suit the day before Halloween under the auspices of "outerwear".

Elle enthusiastically helped me carve our pumpkin. By which I mean she enthusiastically cheered me on while keeping an adequate distance from the "yucky" pumpkin guts. The enthusiasm continued for the face drawing and initial carving, but rapidly transitioned into nothing short of typical melodrama Elle-o-drama as I punched out the first eye. In a tone of utter horror she shrieked, "Ahhhhh! Mommy! You didn't tell me you were going to kill him!"

Mommy, the Jack-o-lantern Slayer

We enjoyed a delicious dinner at our neighbor's house, followed by trick-or-treating.We were excited this year to have Nanny and PawPaw join us for the festivities, and grateful to have them stick around the next day to watch the girls whose daycare was closed. Closed the day after Halloween-- seems a little too coincidental to me...

Naturally, E took the task of trick-or-treating very seriously. She perfectly executed her "Trick-or-Treat!" and "Thank-you!" at every house and ran as fast as those little witch legs could go to keep up with the bigger kids. At one house the man told her to take 5 pieces, but I guess he thought she couldn't count, so he was helping her out as she chose. In a slightly offended voice, she interrupted: "You don't have to tell me that. I already know how to count." Sassy, that one.

I really think she had a blast, and I know I did watching her soak up the holiday joy. Elise enjoyed being surrounded by family and watching her sister's crazy antics. I'm already excited about Thanksgiving and Christmas is just around the corner...