Bee
Spork's favorite cereal is Honey Nut Cheerios. He will deign to switch up his yogurt flavor on the daily but heaven help us if we are out of "Bee," as he calls it. He also tries to convince the Nugget and Daddy to partake, "Daddy, want some bee? It wihwee wicious (really delicious)!"
Contraction by Spork.
Nelse - something else.
"Things I did not expect to say to my kids, cont'd"
Spork, we do not lick the leotards. (Hope Miss B doesn't add a, "You lick it, you buy it" sign to the rack or we just bought like $100 worth of sparkly spandex.)
Spork's new skills include whistling and putting on his own shoes and socks!
Spork is also sporting a fresh splint and sling these days, soon to be replaced with a real cast. Spork took a tumble at Tater's gymnastics party, but he's not letting it get him down. In fact, he immediately perked up for popcorn and cupcakes, so we didn't think it was broken at first. And even in the ER, waiting for x-rays and splinting, his main concern was not his arm but the fact that his snack was delayed (ER rules).
When the Nugget spied Tater lying on her belly facing the stairs, he had a major panic attack and started sobbing and screaming that she might fall down the steps head first and die. After I reminded her to go down feet first, she happily bumped down on her bottom and I went into calm the Nugget, who was still sobbing on his bed. He blubbered,"I was so scared she was going to get hurt, and I just really care about safety. Like Chet."
I was elated/horrified when the Nugget had a scuffle with an older boy on the playground who refused to yield the monkey bars. Technically both boys were in the wrong, because they started on opposite ends of the bars at the same time without verbally deciding on who had the right of way. Anyhoo, long story short, the bigger/older boy refused to move, the Nugget dropped down, unhurt except for his pride, and thanks to nightly readings of On the Banks of Plum Creek, he hurled out the insult, "Snipe!" (As in, "Snipes, snipes, long-legged snipes!") Of course, the bigger boy had no clue what the Nugget was talking about, so instead of the insult having the intended effect, the Nugget had to describe what a snipe was, and that's kind of a momentum-killer. But I'm kind of proud of my literate boy's verbal banter. That's probably wrong on several levels. Don't worry, by the time he's in junior high, we'll move onto books that will give him tougher insults.
Lest you think the Nugget is not having a good time at school, he indeed has a plethora of good friends already. One has dubbed him, "The King of Friendship and Love," awww.
Tater is verbal enough to hold entire conversations. It is a trip to converse with a 3 year old in full sentences and even funnier when I get to overhear her conversations with friends and siblings. Here's a gem I heard yesterday.
T: I'm afraid of band aids.
N: Why are you afraid of band aids?
T: Um, not afraid of band aids, afraid of band aids not coming off. Band aids get stuck on me, not come off.
N: Oh, I know what you mean. Sometimes they hurt when you pull them off.
T: I can no pull them off, ow! Mommy can take band aid off in tub, I no can do that. I too scared.
N: Yeah, that's hard.
Tater was happily naming the ornaments on our tree, "Manatee, penguin, Santa, snowman, bell," until she came to an unadorned limb, but she pressed onward, "Branchy-branch..."
Tater's received a boxed dvd set of Yo Gabba Gabba! from Cabbage, Bean, and co. She literally leapt from her chair screaming, "Yo Gabbas!" and took a victory lap around the room. Tater has been very excited about her birthday this year, and refers to her birthday as, "My happy birthday." She has been making a lot of cakes in her kitchen lately and holding birthday parties for her lovies.
Contraction by Spork.
Nelse - something else.
"Things I did not expect to say to my kids, cont'd"
Spork, we do not lick the leotards. (Hope Miss B doesn't add a, "You lick it, you buy it" sign to the rack or we just bought like $100 worth of sparkly spandex.)
Spork's new skills include whistling and putting on his own shoes and socks!
Spork is also sporting a fresh splint and sling these days, soon to be replaced with a real cast. Spork took a tumble at Tater's gymnastics party, but he's not letting it get him down. In fact, he immediately perked up for popcorn and cupcakes, so we didn't think it was broken at first. And even in the ER, waiting for x-rays and splinting, his main concern was not his arm but the fact that his snack was delayed (ER rules).
When the Nugget spied Tater lying on her belly facing the stairs, he had a major panic attack and started sobbing and screaming that she might fall down the steps head first and die. After I reminded her to go down feet first, she happily bumped down on her bottom and I went into calm the Nugget, who was still sobbing on his bed. He blubbered,"I was so scared she was going to get hurt, and I just really care about safety. Like Chet."
I was elated/horrified when the Nugget had a scuffle with an older boy on the playground who refused to yield the monkey bars. Technically both boys were in the wrong, because they started on opposite ends of the bars at the same time without verbally deciding on who had the right of way. Anyhoo, long story short, the bigger/older boy refused to move, the Nugget dropped down, unhurt except for his pride, and thanks to nightly readings of On the Banks of Plum Creek, he hurled out the insult, "Snipe!" (As in, "Snipes, snipes, long-legged snipes!") Of course, the bigger boy had no clue what the Nugget was talking about, so instead of the insult having the intended effect, the Nugget had to describe what a snipe was, and that's kind of a momentum-killer. But I'm kind of proud of my literate boy's verbal banter. That's probably wrong on several levels. Don't worry, by the time he's in junior high, we'll move onto books that will give him tougher insults.
Lest you think the Nugget is not having a good time at school, he indeed has a plethora of good friends already. One has dubbed him, "The King of Friendship and Love," awww.
Tater is verbal enough to hold entire conversations. It is a trip to converse with a 3 year old in full sentences and even funnier when I get to overhear her conversations with friends and siblings. Here's a gem I heard yesterday.
T: I'm afraid of band aids.
N: Why are you afraid of band aids?
T: Um, not afraid of band aids, afraid of band aids not coming off. Band aids get stuck on me, not come off.
N: Oh, I know what you mean. Sometimes they hurt when you pull them off.
T: I can no pull them off, ow! Mommy can take band aid off in tub, I no can do that. I too scared.
N: Yeah, that's hard.
Tater was happily naming the ornaments on our tree, "Manatee, penguin, Santa, snowman, bell," until she came to an unadorned limb, but she pressed onward, "Branchy-branch..."
Tater's received a boxed dvd set of Yo Gabba Gabba! from Cabbage, Bean, and co. She literally leapt from her chair screaming, "Yo Gabbas!" and took a victory lap around the room. Tater has been very excited about her birthday this year, and refers to her birthday as, "My happy birthday." She has been making a lot of cakes in her kitchen lately and holding birthday parties for her lovies.
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