Monday, March 29, 2010

who's on first

Caroline: Nooooo, I'm afraid.

Mama: What are you afraid of?

Caroline: I'm afraid of a different thing.

Mama: What are you talking about??

Caroline: I'm afraid!

Mama: OF WHAT?

Caroline: NOOOOOO. A different I'm afraid.

Mama: [has stroke] What. Are. You. Afraid. Of?

Caroline: I'm afraid, like WITH A MEANING.

Mama: Meaning??

Caroline: Like I'm afraid you don't know any language!

Saturday, March 27, 2010

extinct != out of stock

The announcement came out of nowhere while we were running an errand. From the backseat, I heard a very chipper, "Hey Mama. I really want to ride a T. rex some day."

I told her that I was sure it would have been fun, but dinosaurs are extinct, which means there aren't dinosaurs anymore. Sooo maybe she would have to settle for a camel.

"But I have this great idea. You and I will go to a store. A really big store with tall ceilings. And we will buy a big T. rex. We'll have to use a special big truck to get him, but it is still a great idea, right?"

I used our experience with the book Lifetimes to tell her that there aren't any more living dinosaurs.

She began to cry quietly.

"But it was my life dream..."

Thursday, March 25, 2010

i concur

"You know would be great for the world? More pancake sing-alongs."

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

you're either with her or against her

Caroline was playing with her ponies, and I noticed one of them suspiciously placed across the coffee table.

I interrupted her and asked, "Why is Sweetie Belle over here all alone?"

"Huh? Oh, Sweetie Belle. I'm afraid she's an evil-doer."

Monday, March 22, 2010


We pulled into the local produce market, and the car radio was blaring the first verse and chorus of an AC/DC song (hey, don't judge -- she doesn't get the subtleties of shaking one all night long). Caroline was thrashing her head around while clutching the chest clip of her carseat, and I put the car into park.

"Mama! Don't! Don't turn off the car! I have to finish rockin' out!"

Saturday, March 20, 2010

just like in the fairy tales

Caroline: Did you hear that? Did you hear that 'knock knock knock'?

Mama: No, I didn't hear anything.

C: I hear it, do you hear it? [look of irritation]

M: Oh, yes! Yes, I do hear it. A knock knock.

C: I think it's some fairies!

M: How exciting!

C: [revealing a handful of small dolls] They're here! Say hello!

M: Hello fairies!

C: [in the voice of a fairy] Hello, Mama. The fairy friends and I are here to make your lifelong dreams come true. Look to the talking wall and your dreams will be offered.

M: Fulfill my dreams, oh wall.

C: Your lifelong dream is... a ball. [dramatic bow]

M: Oh a ball, just like I've dreamed of!

C: You can thank me and my other fairy friends. I am Tinkerbell. And this is Holly, Polly, Anna, and the one wearing roller skates is BerryPicker.

Friday, March 19, 2010

jokes with instructions

"You gotta hear this joke. I made it up. Ready? Ok. How would you like some roasted steam for dinner? HAHAHAHAHA! Doyagetit? Doyagetit?"

Oh boy, I got it. And I gave what I thought was a convincing laugh.

"No, Mama. You're supposed to hold your sides when you laugh at great jokes."

Thursday, March 18, 2010

an understated affair, to be sure

We have begun planning Caroline's fourth birthday party. Yes, it is a whopping 75 days away, but it is her first "friends party," and I like to do things homemade and personal. So it's going to take me some time to get things planned, made, and done.

We won't be doing a bounce house, a petting zoo, clowns for hire, or knife jugglers. She has, however, made a request for "one of those attention guys. You know, the ones that are all shaky in the sky with the crazy hair."

It took me a couple minutes to realize she meant these:

I quickly denied this request. I am making her cake, for crying out loud. For her party that will be held in our backyard. Without corporate sponsors. Or used automobiles available for purchase.

"But Mama... Come on! Come on! You know it would be so great. He could be in our front yard!"

Oh sure, to greet the parents and children... and motioning to aircraft flying over our fair city.

"He's so great and cheerful, Mama. He will be perfect. And I will name him 'Fancy Man.' This party is going to be so amazing."

hopefully not a tested theory

"Mama, why don't dogs like Slinkies?"

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

no pot o' gold at the end of this rainbow

Chuck worked from home today, which meant Caroline and I got to spend some quality one-on-one time... at Costco, Target, and the local produce market. Real quality time. As I mentioned below, the girl was pretty decked out in green.

Everywhere we went, people would comment on her being "a little leprechaun."

At the 37th mention went like this:
Costco lady: [fake brogue] Top 'o the morning to ye, little lass!

Caroline: Hi! I think it's afternoon now.

Costco lady: Right ye are, little leprechaun!

Caroline: Actually, I'm just a girl.

And then she turned to me and stage whispered, "I thought everyone knew that leprechauns aren't real!"

four leaf clover

Caroline insisted that every article of clothing on her body had a lot of green in it because, "Hey, I don't want to get pinched! Do you want to get pinched?"

She was so excited to celebrate today. When I suggested that she wish her teacher a Happy St. Patrick's Day, she said, "Oh, that's a green ideen! Idea. Idea-en. Hm. I wanted to make that rhyme, green and idea. It didn't work, did it?"

I shook my head and told her it was a good try.

"Oh well, today's still going to be sweet!"

Monday, March 15, 2010

focusing on the message

I have laryngitis or pharyngitis or some other -itis. I just have very little voice at all right now. I can squeak out some syllables, and the rest is just a barky whisper.

You have to talk a lot when you have 3 year old. It's in the job description.

I was telling Caroline a cute story that a preschool friend's mother told me. The preschool friend's toddler sister was wearing a barrette in her hair, much like Caroline does 99% of the time. The little girl looked in the mirror and gasped and smiled and said, "Now I look like Caroline!"

After sharing this with Caroline, I asked (as best I could), "Isn't it so sweet that little Corinne was thinking of you?"

Caroline stared at me for a couple seconds and said, "You know, you sound like a goose. And a goat. You sound like a goose-goat, all at the same time."

Saturday, March 13, 2010

not so enjoyable

Soooo, she's on steroids again because antibiotics and breathing treatments, along with a daily asthma medication, were just not enough to make her well. Last time she had to take prednisone, she was Caroline on speed. This time, she is essentially a depressive drunk.

She woke up at 7:10am. Late for her. I am also sick, so I was sleeping on the couch so I wouldn't wake the baby with my cough. Chuck was in our room with the baby, door closed. Nothing woke her up. No one so much as creaked a floorboard near her. We suddenly and unexpectedly heard the plaintive wail of a prednisone-powdered preschooler followed by "I DON'T WANT TO BE AWAKE!" and some weeping. That pretty much set the tone for the day.

The world ends about 54 times per hour. She is manic for 3 minutes then cries about utter nonsense for 57. It has been a difficult 48 hours, and we still have 1 more day to go. Not so many memorable kazooisms, though many bewildered looks, and we are trying hard to remember that she isn't intentionally behaving this way.

The one time we had to contain our laughter occurred today when she had shoved 2 Polly Pocket girls down a narrow cardboard tube that came in a package we'd just opened. The dolls were in space, you see. And now they were stuck in a tube in space. She started to get upset about how they would never get out of the tube. "DADDY! DADDY! You have to get them out of here NOW." He started to work at freeing the NASA Pollies at what I would call a quick pace (we are not stupid -- don't rouse the beast, etc.), and she couldn't take the wait. Tears started, and she blurted:


Thursday, March 11, 2010

guess we don't have to save for college

She walked into the room after her bath, wrapped in a towel and looking serious.

Caroline: I'm sorry but I found my true destiny.

Mama: What is your destiny?

Caroline: I need to be a mermaid.

humoring us

Caroline spent part of her day making her baby sister laugh and laugh and laugh. She can do it like no one else can. So when Chuck got home, I told Caroline to come show him how she makes Sylvie laugh.

She strolled in, looked at Sylvie and said, "You have a shoe on your head!" And Sylvie cracked up.

Caroline walked away, saying, "Yeah, that's my funniest stuff."

vocabulary fail

Regarding Reuben the basset hound mix:

"Mama, Reuben is disgusting. He smells like... like... [sigh] I don't know. He smells like dirt. But dirt is really not bad enough. I don't have a word for this stink."

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

ill communication

Caroline has a sinus infection, bronchitis, and what seems to be newly discovered "childhood asthma" which makes the normal cold turn into six weeks of doom (like sinus infection and bronchitis). This is all quite new to us, as she had only a couple minor viruses in her first three years. But the poor kid is sick as a dog right now. And to add to the fun, she started throwing up this morning.

She has thoughts on this. Like:

"Daddy should never have given me that milk! Mucus!!!!"

"I can't go to school like this. No one wants to see me puke."

"I just keep getting sicker and sicker and sicker and sicker and sicker and sicker and sicker and sicker and sicker..."

And, my favorite, as she clutched a bucket, "I hope I don't have a bad life."

Monday, March 8, 2010

awkward baby small talk

We were at the pediatrician's office (AGAIN) today, and the one nurse must be mainlining sunshine and rainbows because she is so enthusiastic and bouncy and over the top baby-talky that I just about need insulin after standing in the same room with her. She is kind and sweet, but man there is a lot of boisterous schmoopy talk that just flows from her.

She asked Caroline to take her shoes off so she could be weighed ("Okie dokie, little miss. Can we get your adddddorable shoesie woosies off so we can weigh you? Oooooh, you are 38 potatoes! Yes you are. 38 SWEET po-tay-tees.").

Caroline looked a little uncomfortable but smiled, and then looked at me like "Lady, help me!"

We had the litany of normal questions for a sick visit, all in hyperactive candy-coated code. Then the nurse asked Caroline for her age.

"Um, I'm three. I used to be two. But then I grew, and now I am three." And then she shuffled her feet and winced a little. "I mean, three sweet po-tay-tees."

Saturday, March 6, 2010


She was enjoying a tangerine Dum Dum Pop when she declared, "I am now calling this my Saturn Lollipop because it has a ring, and it's really the right thing to do."

Thursday, March 4, 2010

full of vitamin no

Caroline: What am I having for lunch?

Mama: I was thinking you could have a sandwich and some cantaloupe or some leftover soup.

Caroline: [deflated] I was really wanting something new. I'd like some new food. Kind of spice it up a little bit.

Mama: Oh. And what exactly were you thinking is a good "new" food?

Caroline: Hmmmm, maybe some chocolate. And some popsicles on the side.

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

enforcer of toy sensitivity

I was strapping Caroline into her carseat today, and she was playing with her sister's rattle-esque toy. It has a fish at the top of a handle that is wrapped in jingly rings.

Caroline: It's a fish! On a stick!

Mama: It's a fish stick, [exaggerated] ha ha ha!

Caroline: [look of sternness] Mommy, don't make jokes about the fish. It hurts his feelings.

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

take that, pictionary

Caroline: Mama, say "Moo. Hello."

Mama: Uhh, moo. Hello.

Caroline gasps and screams like in a horror movie.

Mama looks at her like she's got six heads.

Caroline: That's called "Talking Cow and the Scared Girl." I just made it up. It's a great new party game.