She throws the ball to the crowd - "Push the A button," I tell her. "Then push the B button and swing your arm." I have to remind her to let the B button go. I have to remind her not to stand so close to the TV. I help her a few times and then it's, "I do it! You sit on the couch."
She's only 2 - almost 3 and actually did pretty good. Got a strike all by her little self. Pretty bad though when I win a 2 year old 158-104. Ultimately she got bored and moved on to chasing the dog.
Then yesterday she tells her dad she wants to wii golf with him. He sets it up and I watch from the kitchen for a while before telling them I'm leaving to take Georgi to a friends house, dropping Charli's friend off and running a few errands. Gianna yells, "I stay with dad! I golfing!" Okay dokey.
When I got home he tells me she's napping. They golfed and she got a bogie all by herself. They played baseball and bowled. Charli asked, "Did she win?" Greg say, "No." With that look that says - that was a dumb question. But I have a feeling someday it won't be.
Gianna, Georgi and I were watching Horton Hears a Who this past week while it was raining and Georgi's talking to me about her friend who has the chicken pox. "I think Josh gave them to her," she says. Gianna pipes up with, "Josh by budder (brother)?" Georgi and I look at her like she's a little crazy. "Honey," I say sweetly, "you don't have a brother." "Yes," she shoots back, "a budder Josh and a boyfriend Josh." I'm wondering if we're playing pretend at this moment and I didn't get the memo. "You have an Uncle Josh." I tell her. You know, maybe she's confused. "No! My budder Josh and my boyfriend Josh!" she adamantly reiterates. "Fine," I say in my resigned mommy voice, "You have a brother Josh and a boyfriend Josh, now watch the movie." All was well after that. Sheesh!
We also had a fun trip to the market this week. She likes going to the market that has "car" carts for her to drive. It doesn't matter if I'm only going for a gallon of milk, she has to drive the car. There's 4 red ones and 1 blue one. She always picks the blue one. It's a p
olice car but I don't think she knows that. We drove through the store with her happily making car sound affects the whole way. A little on the loud side too. Everytime I stopped I hear, "Mommy, why you stop?" I forget that I'm to race around the store at breakneck speed to entertain a 2 year old. At one point I'm on a long stretch from the frozen food aisle to the milk and I hear a strange noise and look down. There's my little darling hanging out her "car" window holding her hotwheel on the ground - it was speeding. I put the hotwheel in my purse.Everyone was very friendly that day - annoyingly so. I can't tell you how many times I was asked if I was finding everything okay or if I needed help. This was actually a day that I did my hair, put make-up on and was wearing real clothes. I didn't look like a homeless person or a haggard mom - why did they keep asking me if I needed help?
After putting the groceries in the car, returning the cart and while buckling Gianna into her carseat I noticed a button on my shirt was undone. In the most inappropriate place. Hmmm, nice cleavage. I should've worn my pajamas like I wanted to.
I have no idea how long I paraded around like that as I'm not in the habit of checking out my boobs every 10 seconds but you can bet the next time the nice folks at the market ask me if I need any help I'll be checking out the twins as well as my zipper before letting them know I'm doing fine, thank you.
Later, I tell a friend of mine about my lovely story and she tells me she was at her sons class party, standing around with other moms when someone mentions she has icing on her ID badge. Yeah, they forgot to mention the pink icing all down her sleeve or right smack on the center of her boob. Geez!
Most of my stories are about the little one because quite frankly she's with me all day long and she really does/say some funny stuff. The stuff the others say and/or do are not nearly as entertaining. Take for instance Charli: I need her to complete her major works data sheets for English class. She was supposed to do them last weekend. Do you think they're done? No. So I tell her this 4 day weekend she will be finishing those as well as cleaning the bathroom she never has time for except dropping her clothes in and leaving her hair stuff all over the place in. She'll also be cleaning her room and putting away all her clean clothes, the clean clothes that I, not the laundry fairy cleaned and folded and left on her bed. The clothes that are now scattered around her floor. Yes, those clothes. So here it is Saturday, the 2nd day of the 4 day weekend and do you know what she asked me today after she got up at noon? "Can I go to the movies today?" Really? Really are you going to ask me that? "Well, I'll do my mwds and clean my room first." Then I suggest you do that before you even ask me if you can breathe. Then she looks at me like I'm mean or something. Really? Really?
So there you go... a few good stories for the week. And 8 weeks from today I'll turn 40. Isn't anyone else besides me concerned about this?!
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