Anna calls Avacados “Colorados”.
She calls flavored snowballs (the kind you eat in summer) “Raindrops”.
She knows that the reason it rains is because clouds are full. I taught her that one. I think I’m at least partially right. Well, suitable for a 3-year old, anyway.
She tells Paul to “go make money!” as he heads out the door every morning. The girl knows her priorities.
When she whines the night before about not wanting to go to school tomorrow, I say “let’s talk about that tomorrow morning” and she says “OK.” In fact she does that a lot lately: planning ahead of what she doesn’t want to do so she can get an early start in expressing her feelings about it. I, however, think that talking about this while she has a mouthful of toothpaste constitutes a delay in the discussion and surprisingly she is good with that.
Her hip was hurting her for a while so out of due diligence I jumped the gun and brought her to the doctor yesterday, where, before we even walked into the doors, she was instantly cured (don’t you know you have to pay the $25 co-pay to tell the teachers “yes she is complaining but the DOCTOR said it’s nothing”). But at least while there we learned she weighs 34.75 pounds and is 39” tall. She’s almost up to my belly button. She’s fabulously tall and pretty darned cute, especially when she smiles. Her bad attitude has calmed again (that’s her way: 2 weeks of brattitude, followed by several of right-on awesome Anna) and we’re almost back into a routine. She doesn’t fight bedtime like she had when we were all over the place in June, though she isn’t thrilled about going to school. Why would anyone want to go to school when the alternative could be a visit by Nana or trip to Kemah or an Astros baseball game (Paul took her with O and M and TJ and friends when I was out of town) or a trip to Paw-Paw’s house (My dad, or as Anna calls him “your daddy” where we just went for July 4th). Summer is about the fun, not the school. But while she’s there she does great. She even naps, which she wouldn’t DO in her previous classroom. Go figure. These things are weird.
She’s such a little person. I swear I’ve said that before but seriously she just gets older and older. The stuff she asks me “do you ever get sad?” freaks me out and I love it. She loves to do puzzles and I like to do them with her. I can hang with puzzles. She doesn’t have enough puzzles though. She also likes the flavored chapsticks and now the little clip on earrings that came with her princess dress up outfits. The other night I stopped to ask myself “what the hell am I doing??” while holding the flashlight and searching under my seat of my car as I spent too much time (and Paul did too) searching for her princess clip on earrings. I found one. I gave her a different clip on to satisfy her but it forced Paul and I to sound like parents: “you need to take better care of your things so you don’t lose them.”
After 2 years at LEAST of singing Wheels on the Bus every night for bedtime, she’s now asking for me to sing something else. What that is could vary. Sometimes she doesn’t even know what she wants me to sing so I go through a list of “No, no, no…um, I don’t know”. I kind of miss Wheels on the Bus because I could sing it while partially asleep. Now she’s requiring a little more brain power.
She’s obsessed with stinky feet and tooting on you. Still. She took her shoes off on the car ride back from New Orleans this weekend and I had to roll down a window. She gets it from her dad. On the car ride home from New Orleans she and Paul exchanged tooting sounds: Paul on the iPod FART app and Anna with her Flarp (silly putty that sounds like toots). The giggles were contagious. The IPod was plugged into my stereo speakers. Fortunately, the flatulence was simulated.
The sandals got a wash last night. Because she still refuses to wear an array of pretty shoes (they’re TOO TIGHT!!!) she wore them cold and a little wet this morning. My mom bought her a bunch of new clothes lately for summer, to which she hated all of them, and now they sit unused till I pass them on to someone else. Here’s a tip if you haven’t figured it out now: she’s picky about the clothes. Don’t bother. Everything itches or is too tight. It takes a certification to dress her.
She still has the paci at night and it looks like it’s about to break. By now she’s old enough to respond “you can go buy another one at the store” when I ask what she’ll do when that stinking paci breaks. No, mommy is going to will that paci to break on a weekend so the sleep loss won’t feel so profound when it’s gone cold turkey.
A recent Anna picture to come….
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