Katie and grampa were talking and grampa said that she needed to go potty in the potty chair so she could go to school and make friends. Katie said "I don't want friends. I don't want friends till I'm 5 years old." And if I know my Katie, she probably crossed her arms and gave a "hmph" and turned her head to the side with her nose in the air.
She seems to have a tiny attitude issue. It comes out when she wants something that she can't have or just when she's talking in general. That whiny tone or the demanding tone. I think she's getting better, at least when she talks to me. She starts with a tone but usually changes it, sometimes mid sentence, when I look at her with a "reminding" glance... you know... the one that silently says that time out isn't too far away. The raised eyebrow and the watchful stare usually works to stop a mean or whiny tone. If that doesn't work I can usually tell her that I don't understand her when she talks mean and if she talks nice I can. Of course, even the threat of time out doesn't matter if a full meltdown is in progress... that can only be resolved with the actual time out and a talent for ignoring the "mama... mommmmy... I want OUT... I want OUT of here... Mama!!!. Even in the midst of a tough time out, this still gets me to crack a smile even if it's not one I can share with my precious, wonderful, opinionated, stubborn, sweet, independant little girl!
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Katie and the wedding
Katie and I were talking last night before bed (while she at her mac and cheese crackers and drank her milk and I ate half of a cookie I wasn't even hungry for and drank my milk) and she told me "I marry your mommy, mom." I said what? Since I didn't quite understand her at first and she said it again... I asked her why because, well, it's a kinda strange thing to say and she told me "because she my gramma." Now if she would have said something about "because she plays play doh with me, because she gives me treats, because she goes for walks with me, because she... well, because of all of the things gramma does with her, I would have totally gotten her reasoning. Maybe "because she my gramma" is her way of saying all of those things without actually saying them. Hmmm.
I did tell her that she will meet a boy who will like her and they will play together and they will need to be sick together and go to dinner together and talk to each other and when she's much, much, much older she will want to marry him... but no, she still wanted to marry gramma.
I did tell her that she will meet a boy who will like her and they will play together and they will need to be sick together and go to dinner together and talk to each other and when she's much, much, much older she will want to marry him... but no, she still wanted to marry gramma.
Jacob and the big foot
The other night, during our ice cream cone time, I was holding Jacob in the kitchen while Katie enjoyed her ice cream cone.
I had a foot shaped teether that goes in the freezer and decided to try it on Jacob since he's been eating his hands so much lately and it's frankly a little disturbing. Not to mention worrisome when I hear him choke on his little fingers. So I pulled it out and managed to move his little hands out of the way and set it lightly against his gums. He wasn't too sure of it at first but then he seemed to get what it was for and started to chew on it. After a minute, he had his hand on mine and he would push my arm back and the teether would come out of his mouth, then he would pull my arm in and the teether would go back into his mouth. He did this for about 5 minutes before he decided that he would rather have his bottle. I was so surprised that he figured out the cause and effect of it all at his little baby age of 3 months! Plus it was super cute watching him.
I had a foot shaped teether that goes in the freezer and decided to try it on Jacob since he's been eating his hands so much lately and it's frankly a little disturbing. Not to mention worrisome when I hear him choke on his little fingers. So I pulled it out and managed to move his little hands out of the way and set it lightly against his gums. He wasn't too sure of it at first but then he seemed to get what it was for and started to chew on it. After a minute, he had his hand on mine and he would push my arm back and the teether would come out of his mouth, then he would pull my arm in and the teether would go back into his mouth. He did this for about 5 minutes before he decided that he would rather have his bottle. I was so surprised that he figured out the cause and effect of it all at his little baby age of 3 months! Plus it was super cute watching him.
Katie and the jammie meltdown
Katie was not a happy camper. She has a favorite nightgown that I've come to realize she loves only because it is a) long and b) "twirly". Now, until I had a 3 year old daughter, I didn't even realize that twirly was a word but now... it makes perfect sense.
Well, the other night I had to tell her that the nightgown was in the wash. She pretended not to hear me and asked for it again. I told her again, with my infinite patience, that the nightgown was in the wash. The third time, patience running a little lower, I told her that the nightgown was still in the wash because, remember on Friday when you wore it all morning and you ate and spilled pizza on it and it got dirty? Well, we need to wash it so it's in the wash. She got that look on her face that tells me that the next however many minutes are not going to be pleasant. She asked for it again and in a very firm voice (or as firm a voice as a 3 year old can come up with when trying to sound like mommy at her firmest) said that she wanted her nightgown. Well at this point, there's not going to be any way to reason with her. I know she knows that it's in the wash and I know she knows that I know that she understands it's IN THE WASH but she's ignoring the reality in favor of wearing her favorite long twirly nightgown. Arg.
Finally we compromised (and that night, compromise = ice cream cone) on her blue short and tank top jammies and she was a happy camper.
Well, the other night I had to tell her that the nightgown was in the wash. She pretended not to hear me and asked for it again. I told her again, with my infinite patience, that the nightgown was in the wash. The third time, patience running a little lower, I told her that the nightgown was still in the wash because, remember on Friday when you wore it all morning and you ate and spilled pizza on it and it got dirty? Well, we need to wash it so it's in the wash. She got that look on her face that tells me that the next however many minutes are not going to be pleasant. She asked for it again and in a very firm voice (or as firm a voice as a 3 year old can come up with when trying to sound like mommy at her firmest) said that she wanted her nightgown. Well at this point, there's not going to be any way to reason with her. I know she knows that it's in the wash and I know she knows that I know that she understands it's IN THE WASH but she's ignoring the reality in favor of wearing her favorite long twirly nightgown. Arg.
Finally we compromised (and that night, compromise = ice cream cone) on her blue short and tank top jammies and she was a happy camper.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
