This month my baby girl turned five, and we registered her for school. The only thing she seems to be able to talk about is school. I feel like this is all happening too soon. I have been going over my Facebook, reading posts I made about my children, and thinking of how small they used to be. I can’t quite bring myself out of the past as of late, and decided to make this month’s blog into a compilation of the silly Facebook posts I have written about my kids.
Ready? Here we go:
Our cat Aeryn was hiding under Danya’s blanket. Danya (nine months old) noticed that her blanket was moving, and held the lump tight.
“What could be under there?” I asked her.
“Onions!” she replied enthusiastically.
I was so proud of Danya because she ate all her noodles. Then this morning I put my work shoes on and they are full of noodles. KIDS!
Today I came home from work and Danya (a year old) was playing in her room. I joined her, and we were having fun. Then my husband came in and started talking to me.
“DADDY GET OUT!” Danya yelled.
Tonight Danya had chicken nuggets for dinner. I was pleased to see that she had eaten them all but was quite disappointed to find one sticking out of her diaper. She had stuffed them ALL in there! She really needed a bath, so I took all the nuggets out and put them on her plate to throw away later. I carried her broccoli covered self to the bathroom and gave her a much needed bath. I put her to bed and returned to the kitchen to clean. The nuggets were gone. I looked to my husband who was sitting at his computer, and he was eating the last of the yucky nuggets. How do I tell him he just ate diaper nuggets?
Every single time Danya passes the desk she wacks her head on it. LOOK AROUND CHILD!
I was sitting here this morning enjoying the quiet. Wait – I thought – it was way too quiet! I looked around for Danya and found her throwing her Cheerie O’s at our new kitten. she thought it was so funny when it attacked and pulverized them.
I was eating a bag of grapes when I had to rush our new kitten to her litter box before she had an accident. I came back and my bag of grapes was empty, laying on the floor by the desk. There were random grapes all over the floor. I followed a grape trail to behind the couch, where I found a naughty, grape covered little girl with both of her chubby little hands filled with two clumps of grapes. She looked like a chimpanzee with her mouth all full of them.
Danya has started saying “butt” when she means to say “up.” I keep trying to get her to say it right but until then, I guess she will be saying butt a lot.
I love those little moments when she rests her head on my chest and snuggles up to me. I run my fingers through her hair and rub her back. Her cheek gets all squished up and she slowly falls asleep. I love her so much.
Got into a fight with my husband this morning because he said I gave him the baby last night, then yelled at him for not helping out. I told him I did no such thing. Then I noticed that the baby is wrapped the way my husband wraps him. I was sleep walking with the baby last night! I know I sleep walk but I didn’t think I would do it with my baby. That is slightly scary.
Michael starts to cry, Danya put her dolls bottle in his mouth.
Danya won’t stop rubbing her butt on the cat scratcher!
Danya put my shoes on her feet. she walked to the door and waved at me and said, “Bye.”
Me: “Where are you going?”
Her: “The daddy!”
She is missing him a lot more than usual today.
Me: “Don’t chew on your book Danya. You are not a book worm.”
Danya: “I could be!”
Danya: Dada at work?
Me: Yes, Daddy is at work.
Danya: Sasa saja
Me: I love you Danya. You’re my sweet little girl.
Danya: I DADA’S GIRL!
Michael was crying, Danya walked up to him, pated his back and said “Watsa whatsa little guy?” He stopped crying and stared at her for a while.
I turned on Nightmare Before Christmas for Danya and she ran screaming because Santa scared her. Of all the terrifying things in this movie, Santa is the one that frightens her.
Me: Ohhh! Danya! It’s a cardboard roll from this empty tin foil box! This looks much more fun than coloring on the walls! Look you can hit things with it, and it make fun sounds! Here! You have fun with that.
*I hear: bang, bang, pang, clang…thud thud-WAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
Me: what happened, Danya? Why is the baby crying?
*Danya whacks him two more times in the head
Danya: I did!
Me: Danya, you don’t hit your brother with things! No!
Me: Stop licking me.
Danya: You sdop!
Me: I’m not licking you, now am I?
*Danya licks me again.
Me: Danya! Stop licking me!
Danya: I dint!
Me: Oh, really? Who did?
Danya: Da baba. (the baby)
*Danya points to sleeping boy
They start early blaming the younger one, don’t they?
I was laying on the couch today resting my eyes, when all of a sudden, I felt some thing soft rubbing my nose.
I opened my eyes and Danya was rubbing my nose with her nose. Then she ran away giggling.
Every time I closed my eyes I felt her nose on mine and heard her say, “Weedle weedle!” She is so silly!
I was holding Danya’s minion and didn’t notice that I was poking him in the eye. Danya came up to me and yelled “Sdop!” She poked his belly. “Dis is my baby. Be nice.” Then she softly stroked his face. “Goo baby”
Me: I love you Danya.
Danya: You love my daddy too?
All day today Danya has been going to the door to check if her daddy has come home.
Five minutes later:
Where is daddy?
Five minutes later:
Dere come daddy!
Five minutes later:
Is daddy at work?
Five minutes later:
Me: I don’t think it works that way. He has to get off work before he comes here.
Danya: COME DADDY NOW!!
Me: Danya, don’t yell please.
Danya whispers: Daddy come now.
Me: Are you daddy’s girl?
This is what it is like walking past a bra section when I am with Danya:
“IS THAT FOR BOOOBIES? IS THAT A BOOBIES? IS THAT FOR A BOOBIES? THAT IS A BOOBIES!!!”
Danya: Is dis a ball?
Me: No. That is a tomato.
Danya: This is a ball.
Danya: Is this for eating?
Me: Yes, this is a tomato and this is for eating.
Danya: BALLS!! I WUV BALLS!
Danya finds her pink hat, puts it on, walks up to me looking very concerned. “Isit pretty?”
Me: “Oh yes, Danya, it is very pretty on you.”
Danya: “I dunnow…”
Me: “Yes, it is very cute.”
She walks off with nothing on but a pink hat and her head held high.
Me: “Danya, where did your blueberries go? Did you eat them?”
Danya: “Boo berry?”
Me: (rolls eyes) “Your blue balls, where are they, did you eat them?”
Me: “Well, where are they?”
Danya: (looks around the room) “I dunno!”
Then I see them…smooshed to the side of her head…she couldn’t find them any where.
Danya: “THIS IS MY BUTT!!!”
I turn to look at her butt pointed at me.
Me: “Yes, it is! Good job Danya. Where is your diaper?”
I asked Danya what we should put on daddy’s hot dog for dinner. She said that ketchup, relish, elephants and noses would be a good idea.
My dad pretends to be asleep.
Danya: “Pa Pah seeping.”
Me: “Oh, is Pa Pah sleeping?”
Danya: “Yeah, pa pahs seeping. Needs banket!” (holds up an imaginary blanket.)
Me: “Oh, are you going to put a blanket on Pa Pah?”
Danya spreads imaginary blanket on my dad.
Danya: “Dere, banket Pa Pah.”
Danya is watching a kids’ documentary about the ocean. Jellyfish come on the screen.
Danya: “BOOBIES!!!!! MOMMY!!! DOSE(those) BOOBIES ARE SIMMING (swimming) IN THE TUB(ocean)!!!”
Me: “Danya, those aren’t boobies, those are jelly fish.”
Me: “Yes, those are jellyfish.”
Danya: (starts to cry) “Mommy, sdop (stop), dose are boobies. Dose boobies are mine.” (Throws herself to the floor and cries.)
Me: “Danya, what is your problem?”
Danya: “I waned (wanted) dem (them) to be mine boobies. But you jeowyfeesh (jellyfished) dem…” (look of great sorrow washes over her face.)
Me: “I’m sorry those aren’t boobies, Danya, but there is nothing I can do about it.”
Danya: (takes deep breath.) “Itsokay(it’s okay). I unersand (understand), mommy.” (continues watching show as if nothing happened.)
She is such a strange child…
Danya: “MOMMY!!! MOMMY!! MOMMYYYY!!!!!”
Danya: “This is a carrot.” (waves carrot two inches from my face)
Me: “Yes, yes it is.”
Danya: “I play with park?”
Me: “We aren’t going out to play at the park right now.”
Danya: “Daddy takes me out…(makes pout face) …I wuv daddy…he take me to park!”
I gave Michael a baby cheerio and suddenly he turns into Smeagol, hobbling around with his precious ring and holding it close.
Danya comes hopping towards me, with her foot in her hands.
Danya: “Mommy, hewp (help) mommy, HEWP ME!!”
Me:(thinking that she may have hurt her foot) “What is the matter, baby bug?”
Danya: (puts her foot in my hand and tries not to fall over) “Is this MY foot mommy?”
Me: “Yes, Danya, this is your foot.”
Danya: “Yea!” (waddles off like a duck)
I never have to wonder whether or not danya is being naughty and jumping on her bed. I can always hear her yelling, “bounce!” every time she bounces.
While cleaning the kitchen, I hear Danya running up and down the hall way angrily yelling, “WET GO!”
I call her to the kitchen and ask her what is wrong. She points to her shadow and yells, “WET GO!” again, then falls to the floor defeated.
Through her sobs, she says, “Mommy, it won wet go.”
I tried to explain that it was her shadow and we all have one, but I don’t think she got it.
I told Danya to eat her sandwich. She touched it with her finger and put her finger in her mouth. I told her no, to pick it up and eat it. She picked an imaginary sandwich up off her plate and pretended to eat it. Ugh…these kids…
Danya is a potty-using diva! No more icky diapers for this girl! Unless it’s poop…Then she will use the floor next to the potty.
We got home from the grocery store and Michael was asleep on my shoulder. I put him to bed and kissed his little forehead.
Danya tugged on my hand.
Danya: “Mommy, danya kees Buckle? Mees? Mees?”
Me: “You want to kiss Buckle?”
I took his hand and put it close to the bars of his crib. She kissed the back of his hand through the bars and made a big “Mwah!” sound. Michael woke up and rolled over.
we went out of the room.
Once I closed the door, she squatted down.
Danya: “Mommy, Danya dump wike a fwoc? mees? Mees?”
Me: “You want to jump like a frog?”
Danya starts jumping like a frog saying “cricket, cricket” as she goes down the hallway.
Me: “Danya, frogs don’t say ‘cricket’. They say ‘rib-bit’, but if you want your frog to say ‘cricket’, then it can.”
Danya put her hand to her forehead.
Danya: “Oh dee-uh”
Me: “Oh dear.”
she goes back and starts over saying rib-bit.
Me: “Danya, What do you want in your lunch sandwich?”
Danya: “Cheese an cute cumbers!!”
Me: “Cheese and cucumbers? Okay, we can do that. What do you want with it?”
Danya: “Cute cumbers!!”
Danya tugs on my hand.
She looks very serious.
Me: “Yes Danya?”
Danya: “Mommy, I wuv cute cumbers.”
Watching fireworks with Danya. She was remarking on the “bootifow fiow works”. Then she pointed to the moon and said “There’s one! Oh pretty.”
Danya: “He-ah Buckle. Have a chicken nuggets. Sit down. NO! DON’T TOUCH! Open mouf Buckle. There. Take bite Buckle! Owww! Buckle! Buckle you eateen Danyas han! Oww! EAT NUGGET BUCKLE! NOT DANYAS HAN!”
It was cute that Danya was feeding little Michael, but it was really funny when he ate her hand instead.
I got Danya out of the tub. I showed her that her hands were pruned and she started to cry. I asked her what was wrong and she said, “I sad cus Danyas hans pruned fow eva.”
“No, danya,” I tried to explain. “It will go away after a while, it won’t stay that way forever.” She cried even more and threw herself to the floor dramatically because her life would never be the same with pruned fingers.
Danya was demanding her sandwich right away. I told her to hold her horses. She said, “Okay” and ran off. She returned a bit later with her horsey. She was holding it very tightly to her chest and said, “I howd Danyas horsey, mommy.”
Danya: “Mommy, what kind of broccoli is dis?”
Me: “What kind of broccoli do you think it is?”
Danya: “The DANYA KIND!”
Me: “The Danya kind?”
Danya: “Yes mommy, yes! It is Danya Broccoli. My Danya broccoli.”
I have been informed by Danya that I no longer have a daughter. Instead I now have a baby elephant. She also has been so kind to let me know that from now on, she will be eating only bananas with her “trunk”
Michael was walking past the sitting Danya. He fell down and landed in Danyas lap.
Danya looked down at him and said, “Okay, Buckle. You sit in my wap.” She put her little arms around him. He snuggled with her for a bit but got wiggly. Danya was getting mushed.
She said, “You kinda heavy, Buckle.” He tried to stand up but she wouldn’t let go, so he started screaming. She then started yelling, “YOU TOO HEAVY BUCKLE!! BUCKLE!! YOU HEAVY!” To think both their problems could have been solved had she just let go.
You know you have a 2 year old when you walk past her and don’t say anything and she screams “NO!” at you.
Today, Elmo talked about dinosaurs. Danya seems to think that he was talking about “Danyasaurs” and now thinks all dinosaurs belong to her.
Last night while trying to put michael to bed, I heard a whisper from the crack of the closed door:
“Wittow pig, wittow pig, wet me in.”
Danya was trying to sound as wolf like as one could sound while whispering.
“Danya, go away. I’m trying to get your brother to sleep.” Silence for ten seconds.
“Den I’ll huff, and I’ll puff and I’ll-”
“Danya, stop. Go play.”
“No Danya here mommy! Ima wolf!”
Well good. It looks like there is a dragon living in the bathroom. Danya insists it is dangerous and won’t go in there to bathe or potty.
In an effort to solve the bathroom dragon problem, I gave Danya a toy, plastic hammer. Now she can take it to the potty with her, and bop the dragon on his head. It is really cute. She bops that dragon on the head, and some times she even says “bop”.
Only now she keeps wanting to share her food with the dragon. She for some reason is now friends with him, and I have to search her for food any time she goes in there.
Danya: “Mommy! I am ready to watch a movie! A angry movie mommy! Angry!”
Danya is telling a good night story. It is about a robot dinosaur that has a mustache and punches people with his mouth.
In the middle, she asked where daddy keeps getting his mustaches and when I told her he grows them she asked her daddy how he grows his fine mustaches.
After several hundred questions over the span of a single hour…
“Danya, I am done with the questions. Done.”
“Mommy, are you done?”
Me: “Look, Danya! The seeds you planted are growing!”
Danya: “Yea! Now it will grow and grow into a big tall cookie tree!”
I don’t know what is wrong with my kid. He took the vacuum apart and put it back together and it is working better than it did before. I also found all the dirt from the filter thingy in the trash (and a bit out of the trash). The question is, how did he know how to take it apart and put it back together? He is almost two, and I have not taken it apart. What magic is this?!
Me: (counting how many squats I am doing.) “Eighty, eighty one-“
Danya: (counting with me) “Baby two, baby three-“
Me: “No, danya, it is EIGHTY, EIGHTY one, EIGHTY two-“
I begin to count from eighty again
Danya: “Baby two, baby three.”
Me: “No, Danya, eighty.”
Danya: “Baby eighty one, baby eighty two…”
Me: “No, Danya… not baby… there are no babies in counting…”
Danya huffs in frustration.
Danya: “Oh mommy! I don’t get it.”
Danya just got mad because the hangers are wearing her shirts and they didn’t ask her if they could share.
Me: “We are going to see Pa Pah.”
Danya (excited gasp): “Oh! I love Pa Pah! I am going to knock on Pa Pah’s door with my knocking hand! (waves her chubby little fist in the air and smiles at it proudly.) I will not knock on Pa Pah’s door with my other hand. My other hand is my ‘playing with’ hand. I use it to play with things!”
Two days ago, I noticed that Michael wasn’t calling Danya “Danya” any more… He kept saying “goo girl.” I only now realize that he is calling her “Good Girl.” I noticed her daddy calling her that too. I think he thinks Danya’s name is Good Girl…
Danya (trying to take my wedding ring off):” I want it off!”
Danya: “So I can take it to be pawned.”
Danya: “For ice cream!”
Me: “How do you know what pawning is?”
When you tell your child not to do something and she looks at you with the death stare and you know she is about to start yelling at you and throwing a tantrum but then she angrily yells, “I love you!”
Me: “Michael, her name is Danya, not Good Girl.”
I hear the kids awake in their beds whispering to one another. I sneak the door open so that I can surprise tickle them awake.
Then I hear Michael whisper down to his sister, “I wuv you. Danya. I wuv you so much.” Then he throws a stuffed animal at her and yells, “Highyah!”
It hits her in the head, and she is upset, but then is so delighted to see a new stuffed animal on her bed, that she gasps with an excited open mouth smile. “Oh, thank you, Michael!”
Michael, looking upset that she was not upset says, “No!”
I am pleased to have these years and memories with my babies, and I can’t wait to make more.