I can turn nouns into verbs with a flick of my wrist (Anna)

Mumma, Mummy and Emma being silly and giggling.

Mumma: "Emmy, you are a little goof!"
Emma: I want to goof again!

Random thoughts (Anna)

Emma was trying to put her monkey hat on. It took her quite a few attempts, experimenting with different angles and then trying to figure out how to do up the velcro under her chin. She kept trying over and over with furious intensity. Every time she looked like she was going to give up in frustration, she tried again. Eventually, the hat was on and the velcro was done up. She looked up with a huge grin, put her hands above her head and yelled, "I did it!!"

Her favourite phrase at the moment is "What's 'at?" It can be repeated at least 50 times. It's a great way for her to make sure a single book can last an hour - you'd be amazed at just how many different objects appear on a single page of a kid's book. (We see it as a predecessor to the "why"?)

Emma thinks that "bum" is a shortened form of "bumblebee". We finally figured it out after she kept touching her backside every time we read about them. Makes sense to me.

Bedtime (Anna)

*sigh* bedtime used to be simple. There was one baby. She might have been crying but it was just one of her.

Now, there's a whole cast of creatures that need putting to bed. They all need kisses, cups of milk, dummies, and lullabies. And they are all apparently extremely particular about how the sheet or blanket is tucked over them.

I know, I know. By tucking the bunny twins in for the 57th time, we're not really attending to the emotional needs of a piece of fabric. We're really attending to the needs of our beautiful, lovely, darling daugher and her burgeoning need to express her nurturing side (to say nothing of her neeed to see just how far she can twist her parents around her little finger). And yes, it is extremely adorable when she says "nigh-nigh" to her animals and sings them a lullaby.

Having said that, I cannot express how exasperating it is to go trudging up the stairs after bedtime when we think we are off duty to attend to a crying kid, then trudge to the bathroom to fill up a cup of water she has requested (in the interests of getting her back to sleep as quickly as possible) and then have to wait while said cup of water gets "fed" to a stuffed giraffe.

Equally exasperating is realising that the reason our child is screaming bloody murder is not because, as one might think, the roof of the house has just fallen into her bed, but rather because some unkind, insensitive Mum has given Tiny Teddy only 10 goodnight kisses, even though it is clearly apparent to anyone paying attention that he needs 11.

And then we find ourselves saying ridiculous things like, "Ok. Monkey is sleeping now. We need to be quiet so we don't wake him up. Why don't you put YOUR head down and sleep next to him?" Yeah, like that's going to help!

Toddlers!!

Scary old men with white beards (Anna)

Apparently, Emma is scared of Santa. Or at the very least has considerable disdain for him.

We first got a hint of it this year when we were reading "Merry Christmas Blue Kangaroo" for the first time. The Blue Kangaroo series is one of Emma's favourites and we have read all the others ad nauseum. But with this book, every time we got to the page where Father Christmas makes an appearance, she would close the book and say, "No." Sometimes she would refuse to read the book at all, and other times she would happily read up to that page, and then refuse to go any further. We have actually never made it to the end of that book with her.

And then today, she and I were going Christmas shopping at the mall. I said to her, "So, Emmy, we're going shopping today."
She nodded and said, "For Chri'mas". And I said, "Yes, that's right! We're going Christmas shopping." And I started to tell her some of the fun things we might see at the mall.
"Maybe we'll hear some carollers singing Christmas carols," I said.
And she said," Yeah!"
"And there'll be light and decorations."
"Yeah!"
"And maybe some Christmas trees."
"Yeah!"
"And there'll be lots of people buying each other presents. And you never know, we might even buy some pressies ourselves."
"Yeah!"
"And, maybe Father Christmas will be there."
No response.
"Do you want to see Santa Claus, Emmy?" I prompted.
She shook her head adamantly. "No," she said.
"You don't want to see Father Christmas?"
"No."
"But you want to see lights and decorations and things?"
"Yeah."
"But not Santa Claus?"
"No."
"Are you scared of Santa Claus."
"Yeah?" she said.

Of course, it might have something to do with last year's encounter with the old man.

So, there will be no cute photos of Emma sitting on Santa's knee this year (unless of course she sees all the other kids doing it and decides it's in her best interests to rethink).

Sick of...well, just sick (Anna)

As we get to the end of a terrible weekend, we have four deeply profound questions about the nature of the universe:

1) Isn't enough enough?
2) How on earth do people do this?
3) Does it ever end?
4) How is it fair that toddlers still need parenting when their parents are sick too?

Sick kid

Up to our elbows in toddler vomit tonight.

If that's too much information, sorry - it is for us too.