Saturday, March 12, 2011
Monday, February 28, 2011
It started out being funny, but now it's just a pain in the A.
How do I get Elle to stop pooping in the tub? I knew she had to go tonight, I kept taking her out of the tub and putting her on the toilet but she wouldn't go. But sure enough, she took a big 'ol poo in the tub moments after getting back in.
Any tips would be helpful!
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Elleanor is a snarky little girl.
Today is Bryan's day to sleep in. One of us sleeps in on Saturday and the other on Sunday. She's been asking for him; "dada? dada?" and I respond "daddy's sleeping, he'll be up soon."
She has taken matters into her own hands and is throwing her toys down, on the hardwood floor, not in an angry way, but more in a "oops, my hand slipped and oh look, there goes my heaviest toy crashing onto the hardwood floor.... gee, I hope that didn't wake up dad."
Here's the thing. She didn't learn that from me. If I want to wake up Bryan I just go and wake him up.
You know who is really great at behavior like that though, the elder Eleanor.
Yup. Grandma Ellie is the queen of the "oh, I didn't do that..." or the "oh, I'm sorry, did I wake you?" she can pull it off because she then follows it up with "here, let me make you some homemade french toast, eggs, sausage, fruit, orange juice, waffles, pancakes, coffee.... what, your full? but I'm just about to make lunch!"
And then she hands you your clean clothes that you had no idea she took to wash but, wait a minute, she ironed your underwear and oh my gosh this is amazing, everyone should iron their underwear! And before long you've forgotten that she purposely slammed 3 doors to wake you up because, although you are 10 lbs heavier, you have the cleanest underwear this side of the Mississippi.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Aside from having to read this book while bathing she now takes a book with her when she squats to poop. Her squatting spot is in the kitchen, under the breakfast bar. I'm thinking that toilet training isn't that far off.
Friday, January 21, 2011
1. I'm going to change the name of this blog to "Yearly Elle" that way if I post things any more frequently than once a year I'll be doing pretty well.
2. I've literally been consumed with applying for/interviewing for/studying for a job as a high school guidance counselor at a high school in the area for the last 2 weeks (at least) and finally, after I thought they were going to ask for a drop of my blood, to name my next child after their superintendent, or perhaps, for me to submit to some sort of genetic screening they offered me the job. And I said no....
hahahahah just kidding, I said yes.
I'm pretty sure the only person they DIDN'T call to ask for a reference for me was the babysitter I had growing up. For real. They were calling people that I 1. did not tell them they could 2. did not give them the name of 3. did not give them the phone number of and 4. Ok, I don't have a four but holy FBI. All I have to say is good thing I have a squeaky clean background because I'm sure they know about that time my dad found a bottle of Bicardi Limon under the seat of my car but never told me about it. Hi Dad.
Elle was a little sick yesterday. On the way home from daycare I called her doctor to run through her symptoms, etc. They were supposed to call me back shortly, so I got home, was carrying her in when, what did she do but puked everywhere. E.V.E.R.Y.W.H.E.R.E. Literally 30 seconds later the phone rings, and I'm thinking "oh good, the Doctor is calling" and, I answer. With a moaning/fussy covered in puke baby in my arms. and who do you think it is Mr. FBI (AKA The superintendent) offering me the position. Can you say poor timing. So I talk to him for a bit, explain that I am covered in puke, he offers to call back, and I say "there's no way this is going to be cleaned up in a reasonable amount of time, so we can just talk now" and that was it.
Afterwards, when running through the story with Bryan he says "I wouldn't have answered the phone, you could have called him back." Well isn't hindsight just 20/20 Mr. You Didn't Have Puke All Over and Thought It Was The Doctor Calling to Help But Instead the FBI Called to Offer Me A Job So Shut Your Face
Anywho, in the picture above Elle is wearing my necklace, probably some lip gloss, and bronzer. These are her new favorite toys; my makeup and my jewelry. To say that both Bryan and I are terrified of what's to come is an understatement. She knows how to put makeup on, she knows where earrings go, she knows how to put on these necklaces, and will stand in my closet moving her arms back and forth through the clothes like she's trying to decide what to wear.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. I've created a monster.