(More convos with toddlers).
Me (singing along to the Four Tops): Baby, I need your lovin,’ / Got to have all your lovin’ …
AG (dead serious): You can’t have my loving.
Me: (laughing): Why?
AG: Because it’s not that simple!
Me: oh, you still have some popsicle on your face. I didn’t wipe off all the orange.
Her: Hail to the orange, Hail to the blue …
She’s singing the University of Illinois Alma Mater song.
AG has been taking a long time to fall asleep at night lately. She talks and sings to herself for about two hours regularly. Typically Paul or I will go in there and gently ask her to quiet down, and then she’ll ask us to change her diaper because she’s “a little squishy” (people who use disposable diapers will know what she means). I fear the days of naptime are coming to a close.
Anyway, the other night at 10:30 I went in there to ask her to calm down. She was standing up on her bed, blathering away, with her left fist in the air. She turned to look at me in the dark and said, “Mommy, will you please wipe the poop off my hands?”
Yes. She had unzipped her jammies, stuck her hand in her dirty diaper, and pulled out some poop.
Your friends won’t tell you about these kinds of things when you’re trying to decide whether to have a kid, by the way.
But! The next morning, while eating breakfast, she turned to me and said, “Will you sing the twinkle song?” “Twinkle, twinkle, little star?” I asked. “No – the one with the people.”
She meant this one:
So I sang it for her, several times, because she kept asking me to sing it to her.
And that kind of made up for the poop.
Daddy’s name is “Paul,” your name is “Janelle,” and Aria’s name is “Hon.”
-AG, 2 1/2