Don't Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus

A few weeks ago, we got this book at the library. Ryanne made me read it no less than 12 dozen times in the two weeks we had it. When I saw it at Half Price Books, she needed a copy.

She made daddy read it. And read it some more. I think it's currently read almost every night.

The premise is that the bus driver is 'stepping out' for a moment and wants you to watch the bus while he's gone. One night, she explained that the bus driver was going to Taco Bell to get lunch.

Fortunately, Chrys remembered that we had seen a bus driver stop at Taco Bell, leaving his bus parked on the street, and go in to get lunch. We had discussed the ethics of leaving your bus, running, on the street while you go get your lunch. We also pondered whether or not there was time built into the schedule for him to actually sit outside Taco Bell and eat.

Some days, it truly amazes me what she puts together.

They come in blue?

Last week, Ryanne was in the kitchen playing with her markers and, I thought, paper. These were markers given to her by J&J when they moved into town. They weren't washable. They were just various brands of markers in a big tub.

She came around the corner and was blue from toe to hip on both legs. I took her into the kitchen and there was a pool of blue marker on the tile. I was immensely displeased.

Turns out, the blue on the tile wiped up pretty well. Honestly, I wouldn't have been that worried if it hadn't as we're jonesin' to replace the tile anyway. There was enough of it that it was still wet.

We next went to the bathroom. I did my best to wipe down her legs and get most of the marker off. I had moderate success.

I warned Chrys since her pants were back on by the time he got home. Turns out, this was very fortunate.

He gave her a bath that night. Her clitoris was blue. Very blue. It apparently took a few baths for it to be fully pink again.

Birthday #3

Three years. In some ways, she was born only yesterday. In others, it's a lifetime ago.

Today was her day. She woke up late. She played with daddy. Meals were entirely her choice: Kenny's for breakfast, Burger King for lunch (so she could play, Chik Fil A is closed on Sundays), Logan's for dinner (so she could crack open peanuts), Ben & Jerry's ice cream cake (chocolate) at home for dessert. She got quite the bounty, too.

When we got home from Kenny's, we got the bike she picked out yesterday out of the van. She did laps around the cul de sac, giggling the whole time (well, not when she fell over). She got a 16" Huffy with training wheels that's purple and hot pink. She loves her "pupple bike".

When daddy got tired of running, we came inside to open presents from gamazonas and great-greendad. She got 2 Halloween ponies and a Cabbage Patch Kid (Eileen Amy) from G&G and an outfit for "her baby" from GG. I read her the adoption oath from the doll and she repeated it back to me. Then, she undressed Eiweenamy.

When she was done playing with the doll, she went and got her Play-doh bucket out. I took that opportunity to give her the Play-doh birthday set that we got her. It's 50 colors in little tubs. She used them as stacking blocks and got quite a tower.

Then, it was lunch.

After lunch, we got the mail and there was a package from Aunt Fyoire. RC got markers and more stuff for her 'dough'. She was also excited because this, apparently, fit the bill for the "widdle pwesent" she asked for. She refuses to tell me how big a little present it or what it should contain. Ponies are apparently not little, but the cube priority mail box is. I just hope she uses the markers responsibly. (I threw out the ones she got when we helped friends move because they weren't washable and she colored all over the floor and herself with them - more on the 'herself' later.)

We did some yard work and she helped daddy mow and mommy pull weeds. We had an early dinner and stopped off to get her cake.

At home, she got all excited about fire on her cake. We assured her there would be and she watched me put the candles in it. We sang and she blew them out. She picked at her cake, much as I expected her to - she's not a huge sweets fan.

While daddy gave Corin a bath, I told her the story of her birth day. She asked questions as I talked and it was fun. She had her bath. She took Eiweenamy to bed (after putting her diaper back on, which she had 'dumped the poop out of because it was yucky'). Chrys told her to dream of birthday #4 and she looked at him awestruck.

I abused the fact that I suspect it will be the last one that we aren't required to share. I suspect next year she'll want a party with friends. This year, the day was all about her, but just with family. I think she had a great time.

Cuteness with a pumpkin

We went to Whole Foods yesterday. This is the first time I've had little enough pain to go in quite some time. It was nice. Ryanne really appreciated it. She loves getting chocolate milk from their kid's club baskets when we go in. I figure there are worse things she could look forward to.

We walked in, and I wanted to get a sugar pumpkin. There weren't many left so I spent a little time trying to maneuver myself and my bum foot over the display to get a grip on one of the remaining ones. This was made more difficult by having Corin in the sling and him already falling asleep.

This left Ryanne time to peruse the rest of the display.

"Mommy, look! It's a tiny, baby punkin"
"Yes, it is"
"Mommy, I want...may I pwease have the little baby punkin to take home"

Of course, with a request like that, I couldn't say no. I couldn't find the price so I just hoped it wasn't too bad (turns out it was $0.50, I can handle that).

This thing is about the size of her palm and she carried it with her everywhere. She even had to tell the lady that checked us out about how it was a baby pumpkin. I washed the dirt off when we got home and she left it to dry on her "twankoween (trampoline)" Then she was putting it in her Hoberman sphere and just carting it around. She's bonded with this and is really loving it.

I think the cats may like batting it around a bit, too...

Role play

Ryanne is really playing with pretend play and role playing.

The other night, she was in bed and we heard her discussing things with her "monster". She had been telling Chrys about the baby monster that lived under her bed while they bathed. She was calling it, "come here, baby," and telling it hello. She chattered away about it for some time.

She's also playing with role play. Last night she was Daddy and Daddy was Ryanne from dinner to bedtime. It got confusing. It was interesting to her her interpretations of things. When Chrys took Corin up for a bath, she asked "can I keep you guys company?" When she plays Mommy, she says no a lot - hmph. It's really cool to see yourself through another's eyes, though.

Learning words

Ryanne has really come a long way in her language skills. At this point, I think there is very little that she can't communicate. Some times she has to repeat herself a few times, trying to find the right word. Sometimes she doesn't know the words and is able to communicate the concept amazingly well.

A few examples:
A little boat with scoopers - row boat
a glass cup - a glass
candy rings - lifesavers

She's also learning subtleties. The other day in the car, Queen's "We are the Champions" came on. Chrys and I were singing along. Well, little miss decided it would be fun to point out that "we aren'T the champions" (emphasis on the T). She kept the tempo, but really cracked herself (and us) up. Occasionally she'd throw a "we are NOT the champions" in there to take advantage of the extended note. We just about died.

Mooooooo - om

I swear I thought I had another 4+ years before I had to listen to that. Turns out, I was wrong.

When she gets really frustrated with me, she strings out the moooooooom. It drives me nuts.

For one thing, when did I become mom? Chrys and I call ourselves mommy and daddy. She reverts to mama when she's being whiny. I certainly did not authorize mom. Who taught her that?

For another, the whiny mooooom is just... she's too young for that. This growing up stuff has got to stop.

Another hard part of parenting

No one ever warned us how many times we would have to suppress the overwhelming desire to laugh at our child. She does or says some of the craziest things and, if we don't want it to happen again, we can't laugh. There are SO many things that our potty brains just find too amusing.

Today's instance was in Target. We're walking through the aisles and she suddenly stands up, bare bum, in the cart. I quietly, but firmly, told her to pull her pants back up.

We tried to figure out how on earth she managed to get her pants pulled down while riding in the seat. Near as we can tell, she just managed to maneuver herself to get them reliably stuck on the sides.

It was SO incredibly hard not to burst out laughing at my daughter mooning the infant clothing section.

Memories

One of the fun things about having the second kid is remembering things about the first at that age. Since I wasn't very good about keeping up with her blog in those days, I thought I'd get some of them written down now.

Changing mishaps: When she was a week or two old, I learned to be more careful with her on the changing table. I put her down in her room in the Rossport house. I had her legs up in the air and was sliding a new diaper under her when she pooped. We're talking projectile. I went all the way to the wall behind her door. Luckily, Gamma Ree was still visiting so she came in and helped me clean it up. Quite the mess.

Mirrors: She had the Tiny Love Gym with a mirror. When she finally figured out to look at the mirror, she would sit and just stare at it for most of her time on the mat. Usually, I was behind the mirror and would play Peek A Boo with her. One night, I went behind her so she could see my reflection in the mirror. She burst into tears. Our best guess was that the baby in the mirror had her mommy and that upset her greatly!

Unweaning

Confession time...Ryanne only stopped nursing for a few months. As Corin's birth grew near, she would ask more and more often for "mommy's milk". Once I was term, I indulged her more willingly, fully aware that she would only ask more.

She asks at least once or twice a week now. Multiple times a day since she's been sick. This last cold, she got over in less than a week because she nursed a decent amount the first day. I give in about once a week; more lately because I hate seeing her sick when I'm not and know that the milk can help that.

It's not entirely comfortable and, at this point, that's the biggest reason I turn her down. Her bottom teeth dig in a decent amount. She's getting better about not biting down. Amazingly enough, she remembered how to latch and didn't try the puckered lip straw suck like I expected her to. She even tells me "big mouf" while she's latching. I guess that was worth teaching her.

It's awkward. Somewhere in there she got huge. It's hard to wrangle her on my lap. It's easiest if I can lie down and get her to lie down with me. She's not always interested in that, though.

It's kind of nice to have that remnant of baby when she's busily telling me how big she is. I know it won't last long. I know it's mostly jealously. She gets royally ticked that Corin goes first every time, but she acknowledges that that's the way it has to be because it's his only food.