Friday, August 26, 2011

Don't eat them...

Ember has a cabin loft bed which is higher than a normal bed but not as high as a top bunk.  Usually when I put her to bed I climb up to read her some stories.  But a couple of nights ago she had her baby doll under a tea towel (sorry, "blanket") in my usual spot.

Em: You can't come up Mummy, baby is sleeping. Don't wake her up, he's sleeping.
Me: (slightly sarcastically) OK, shall I just stand down here and read you stories then?
Em: Yes, because he's sleeping. You can't wake him up.
Me: OK, I won't.  Is your baby a boy or a girl?
Em: A girl.
Me: So she's a she. Not a he.
Em: Yes, he's a she.
Me: She's a she.
Em: He's just 'tend ["pretend"] Mummy.  He's not real. Not a real baby.  He doesn't really sleep. Eat. He doesn't really, he doesn't really eat, he's just 'tend.  He don't eat... just 'tend. He don't, you don't, you don't really eat... really eat... you don't... you don't eat babies Mummy.
Me: (trying not to laugh *too* much)  No, I won't, I promise.

We have lots of these at the moment, where she is trying really hard to say something particular but it goes round and round until it becomes something else entirely!

Friday, August 12, 2011

Naughty tree-painting girls and Charlie going round

I've remembered a few things I meant to post during my month gap in posting, so I'll put what I can remember here.

For a while, every time we got to a certain part of the deviation (the windy, hilly part of the Raglan road), Ember would say:
Em: Naughty girls!
Me: What?
Em: They paint the trees!
Me: What girls?
Em: The naughty girls, they paint the trees, they do Mama, they paint it.  They naughty girls.

I never did figure that one out.

After we switched Ember to the more grown up version of the carseat, she took a little while to adjust to being lower to the seat and less firmly wedged into the seat.  One day, when Charlie was driving and I was sitting next to Ember, we had this conversation:

Em: No! Charlie's make me sad!
Me: What's the matter?
Em: He fall down me.
Me: You're ok.
Em: No, Charlie make me sad, he do.
Me: Why are you sad?
Em: Because Charlie drives around!
Charlie:  That's because this part of the road has corners.  So I have to drive round them.  But we're coming out of the cornery phase now and coming into a straight phase.
Em: (pause) I've got a face.

She makes me LOL! :)

More snippets to come as I remember them...

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Happy Birthday Ember!

Ember is three today!  I know every parent says this, but it's hard to believe my little baby is three ;)

Em's managed to make it a bit of a birthday week, as she had Mainly Music on Monday, Toddlers on Wednesday for her actual birthday, and a party this Saturday.  On Monday evening I asked her about her day.

Me: Did you go to Mainly Music today?
Em: Yep.
Me: Did they sing "happy birthday" to you?
Em: Yes, they did, and they sing it and I run outside and I shout really hard, I say "No, don't do it!"
Me: Didn't you want them to sing to you?
Em: No, and I shout really hard and I say "No, I don't like it" and they do.
Me: They did sing "happy birthday"?
Em: Yes, they did.
Me: Why didn't you like it?
Em: No.
Me: But why, why didn't you like them singing to you?
Em: They was sad!
Me: Who was?
Em: The people was. The people was sad and they sing it, and I run outside and say "No!".
Me: Why were they sad?
Em: Yes, they sad, the people sad and they crying. They crying Mama.
Me: Why were they crying?
Em: Because it my birthday and they sing it to me.
Me: Oh...

According to Simon, what actually happened was that they sang happy birthday to Ember and two other children, she walked up to collect her birthday cup, and then sat down again... :)

Saturday, August 6, 2011

I just don't know...

I can't even remember how the conversation started, but it got around to breastfeeding.  I said to Ember:

Me: Do you remember when you were a baby and drank milk from mummy's boobies?
Em: Yes, I did, that's why i was a baby.  That's why I was in your tummy.  That's why I was born. And Daddy is being the king.

Far Kindor and other exploits

The other morning I was trying to get out the front door, late, carrying bags, Ember, car seat etc etc, trying to keep the dog inside, and the bloody door wouldn't close properly.  In frustration, a certain expletive passed my lips.  After a short silence, Em suddenly piped up:

Em:  Far kindor.  Far kindor.  Mama, what's far kindor?
Me: (trying desperately not to crack up, and failing)  Mummy said a bad word.  I shouldn't have said that.
Em: No, you should have said "silly door".
Me: Yes, you're right, I should have!

Later that morning I was explaining to Em that we were going to a potluck dinner that evening.

Em: What's potluck dinner?
Me: Well, everyone brings something along, and we all share.
Em: (in great consternation) But I don't want to share my dinner!
Me: (pause) ok, you don't have to!