Not My Child #2

Welcome to Not Me! Monday! This blog carnival was created by MckMama. You can head over to her blog to read what she and everyone else have not been doing this week.

It was not my child who cut her foot at a friend’s birthday party last weekend.  She also did not almost track blood on their beige carpets trying to tell us what happened.  And it most certainly was not my daughter who tried telling me her father’s socks were the only thing that could keep her foot from hurting.

It was also not my child who threw the tantrum of tantrums when it was time to leave.  No, my child understands that all good things come to an end!

It was not my child who spilled an entire box of spaghetti trying to help me make dinner!  She knows to wait for me to get things off the top shelf and would never climb on her stool to get something.  And it was not me who told her to stay there long enough for me to take a picture!

It was not my child who told me to not feed her baby brother.  Nope, she knows that he’s just a baby and sometimes he needs attention first!  She also did not tell me that I shouldn’t change his diaper, shouldn’t hold him, and shouldn’t give him a bath!

My child would never be critical of the lack of birthday cake at an adult’s birthday party!  Nope, she was a perfect angel for both birthday parties this week!

My child would never go running down the street without telling me where she was going.  She knows that even though her friend lives two doors down, she needs to tell me when she’s going down there!

Where Has the Time Gone?

 It seems like just yesterday that this picture was taken.  It’s the night Khaila was born, over four years ago.  You hear parents say to cherish every moment because it’ll be gone before you know it, but somehow, I think we all brush that off a bit, especially when daily life is taking its toll and it feels like they’ll never move on to the next phase of life.

I’m realizing now how right “they” are.  My “baby” has actual conversations with me, sometimes conveying her feelings in ways that make me laugh because of her little sophistication.  Just this week, she corrected herself after saying she had to tell her Nana something, she said, “I mean, I need to ask her….”  She knows how to use the computer better than many adults. 

Recently, I realized that she no longer looks like a toddler, she looks like a girl!  I remember the punch to my gut when she lost the baby look for the toddler look, and this time was even worse.  She’s tall for her age, she’s lost her baby fat, she’s growing up on me!

Yesterday, I was talking with a mom friend of mine about the first day of school and I realized this is the last year I have to spend with her before she’s off to “the big school” as she puts it.  I’m already dreading that day next year when we pack up and take her to the first day of Kindegarten.  How can this day be just over a year away?

Without a doubt, I’m cherishing every single moment with RJ.  I’m wiser this time around, I don’t get frustrated when he wants to sleep all the time, I’m not going to rush him to do anything.  Every day that passes is one less day of having a baby in the house, and as content as I am with our family the size it is, it’s sad to think we won’t have these days again.

The Toddler Has Called It

This week was a lesson in being careful what you say around a two year old.  Luckily, it was nothing bad, but it easily could have been (and has been in the past, as evidenced by the colorful vocabulary I’m trying to break).

We’re on our way to the sitter’s, and I hear, “Barack Omama” coming from the backseat.  Over and over and over again.  It would have been annoying if not so cute.  It took me a moment, and a quick listen to the radio to figure out what she was saying.  The host was talking about the Pennsylvania primary and K hear them talking about Barack Obama.  She has no clue that it’s a name, she just knows it’s fun to say.

That night, her phrase of the day evolved.  Apparently, Barack is a verb in her mind.  Now, we hear, “Barack Omama” and “Barack Odaddy” quite a bit.  It’s cute and she loves it because we laugh every time.

Friday, I had her say it for my dad.  Apparently he’s a Barack supporter, because he immediately taught her to say, “Next president.”  Now, she’s spent the entire weekend telling the world, “Barack Omama, next president.”  Only a little over six months to see if she’s right!