14 posts tagged “maggie talk”
The other day when Maggie and Kevin were heading upstairs to read some books, or take a bath, or some such activity that they pretty much do every night, Maggie turned to him and said, "Hey Dad, maybe you need to bring the camera with you upstairs. I might do something cute."
Ughhhhh. Oh my God. I have created a tiny little camera hoggin' monster!
Maggie: (looking closely at her dark brown teddy bear) Mom, what is this teddy bear's name again?
Me: I don't remember. What do you think it might be?
Maggie: Oh, right, I remember. It's "Lip balm"
Me: Uhhhh, Okay.
Maggie: (taking a closer look at the bear) What a minute...this is a boy bear! So, his name is "Henry".
Ahhhh, yes, "Lip balm" -- the name that only applies to girls. Naturally! So, all you pregnant ladies out there, make sure that you do NOT name your baby boys "Lip balm" it is so OBVIOUSLY a girl name. Sheesh!
On a totally unrelated topic, but one which fits in nicely with the title of this entry...
Oh my God, check out the photo of my roses!!!! This photo was taken on the 28th of October. Crazy. California is freakin' crazy!
As I was getting Maggie dressed for bed tonight, she asked, out of the blue, "Mom, when am I getting my chicken?"
Being unaware of ANY chicken promises that I had made, I answered, "uhhh -- never."
She thought about that for a while, then told me, "I guess I will just have to write a letter to Santa then. I need a chicken for a pet."
I asked her what exactly she would DO with a chicken.
"Feed it." She answered right away. "Do we have corn?"
So, I indulged her. "Uhh huh, we have corn. But after you feed a pet chicken, THEN what do you do?"
She looked at me and grinned. "Put a leash on it and take it for walks."
"Ah, of course."
"And I would name the chicken 'Hogie' " She stopped and thought about that name for a little while..."Or we could name it 'Butterfly Kiss'. But I need that chicken."
I am fairly certain that our HOA regulations do not allow for chickens in our townhouse's tiny, enclosed backyard. But I may be wrong. We'll see if Santa brings any Christmas miracles this year.
The conversation we had on the way to preschool the other day:
Maggie: Mom, do you think they will have any wood at school?
Me: Well, the tables are made of wood. And the chairs. Why?
Maggie: How about for snack? I'm hungry!
Me: Um. Wood? For snack?
Maggie: Mo - om -- I'm a beaver. I EAT wood. See my big white teeth and my giant flat tail? (like, duh, mom)
Me: Uh huh. Okay, we'll have to ask your teacher what she's got.
So. First it was "Princess Curls", then "N.N.", She was Mary Poppins for a few days there. And now -- a beaver. A very hungry one, apparently. I can't keep up.
My name is "Ms. Mudd." Mmmm hmmm. That is what my weirdo daughter informed me last week. That she would now be calling me "Ms. Mudd" and Kevin's new name, you might ask?
"Grampa Undies".
Yep. Also, later this weekend, she will be having a playdate with her new friend, "Tofu". I asked her what her friend Tofu is like. She looked at me like I was crazy and replied, "squishy".
But the main person that Maggie likes to give new names to is herself. On her birthday she woke up and let everyone know that she would no longer be responding to the name "Maggie". No. Her name was now "Princess Curls".
Ughhhh. For anyone who knows me, I hate anything and everything that smacks of princesses. I NEVER EVER call my child "princess" because I am afraid I may throw up a little bit when I say it. I guess I am getting my comeuppance for all that ranting and raving. But also? Princess Curls ? Um, My daughter has lovely hair and all, but there are not any curls of which to speak. None. Flat flat flat -- like cornsilk.
When we came home on the plane from Arlington, I told the stewardess that it was my daughter's 4th birthday. The stewardess asked Maggie her name. "Princess Curls", she said, proudly. When asked to repeat it, she remained firm. So, "Princess Curls" got a fabulous shout out on the PA system.
She started school the next day. She introduced herself to EVERYONE as "Princess Curls" It was on her nametag. It was written on her art. I had moms coming up to me after class the second week, "Ummmm, my daughter told me that she was playing with a little girl named Princess Curls, is that Your daughter? What an interesting name..." Of course, each time I politely told them, that, no, I didn't actually NAME her that. It wasn't on the birth cerificate or anything, stop backing away from me like I am a crazy person. My daughter chose that name for herself.
This lasted up until last week, when she came home with a new name on her artwork. "N. N." (??) Whatever. Anything is better than Princess.
A conversation that our family had after watching our Wedding Video a while ago:
Maggie: Was I with you at your wedding, Mommy?
Me: No sweetie, you were still just a sparkle in your Daddy's eye at our wedding.
Maggie: A sparkle?
Kevin: Yeah, and I winked at Mommy.
Maggie: And the sparkle went in her forehead, and went down in her tummy and turned into a baby?
Kevin: Yep. That is EXACTLY right!
Poor kid. We better give her the real story soon or she will be the laughing stock of the schoolyard! But for now, if you ask her -- this is the explanation she gives when asked where she comes from. No kidding.
She actually says, "is that before or after I was a sparkle?"
Last week when Kirsten was visiting, we went to the farmers' market and got some delicious and very addictive kettle corn. By the time we got home, the entire bag had been devoured. All that were left were some flimsy kernel husks in the bottom of the plastic bag.
Maggie went over and fished some out to show them to me:
She brought them over to me, in the cup of her palm.
"Hey Mom," she said, "know what these are?"
"Uhhhh, I dunno, popcorn kernel peels?" (so unimaginative)
"No... they're rats' contacts." (duhhhh!)
WHERE does she get this stuff?! And also -- ewwwww. Just imagine rats putting their contacts in, with their tiny rodenty fingers.
Perhaps this would not be quite as disturbing if a mouse had not run over my foot the other day when I was on the computer. Akkkk! Yuck. Time to get out the mousetraps again.
No. I take it back. The idea of a rat putting in contacts is unsettling no matter what. Mouse in the house or not. I mean, why would a rat be putting in contact lenses? The better to watch me with while I sleep?
How's my compost going?
Well, actually, pretty great, after all that whining and complaining that I logged earlier. Ahem... Here is a photo of the compost, delicately hugging the base of my yellow rose tree:
Ahh, so lovely. So good for the environment. So darn sustainable. And, apparently, so wonderful for the plants! Check it out:
Holy Crap. Those are some big ass roses! As Maggie said yesterday, "Daddy, those roses are just busting out!" Yes, indeed they are. Here is a photo of Maggie looking a little afraid of the roses:
At first, when I took this photo last week, I thought it was funny. But then, a few days ago, Maggie and I were playing with her doll house, and I noticed her stuffing all of the little doll house people into the closet under the stairs in the doll house. Babies, children, mother, father, grandparents, a plastic dog, even the creepy uncle doll who makes me a little nervous...all of them were shoved in a pile, arms and legs tangled together, into the teeny tiny space in the closet. I asked her what she was doing. She looked at me, very concerned that I didn't know. "Mom," she said, "I need to hide them RIGHT NOW! The flower beds are coming alive and are going to ATTACK them!"
Hmmmmm. Maybe she and I need to have a talk about all those "busting out" roses...
Last night Maggie informed me that she really wanted to see "that movie" again. "That movie with the little girl. You know that movie? "
Hmmmm, lots of Disney movies fit that description. A name might help....
"Oh," said Maggie, suddenly remembering the title, "it's called Lilo and Bitch."
"What is it called?"
"Lilo and Bitch."
Alright. I am pretty sure she is talking about this movie. But wouldn't it be funny if that were the name of a Disney movie?
In other Disney news...Kevin and I saw this movie over the weekend. I was prepared to hate it because that is how I like to go into Disney films -- all grouchy and grumpy and full of resentment because they rule the world and manipulate my feelings. But dammit -- they got me. The plot line made me cry. And not just a teeny tiny tear trickling down my cheek. No, this was a full on sob bursting from within. Kevin had to go get the kleenex box for me! Good Lord. What is wrong with me? I am such a sap. All that stuff about loyalty and friendship -- it gets me EVERY time.
Harumppph. Next time I am going to see if I can rent Lilo and Bitch instead.
Maggie has recently started creating imaginary playmates out of everything. Her shoes talk, her bathwater sings to me, her raspberries do little dances. And she has a "special friend" who she talks about all the time. This friend's name is "Big Sister". Big Sister likes to take baths. She is very silly and slides down the slide on her tummy. She is "im- vis-bu-bul". That is what Maggie says when I ask what Big sister looks like.
The other night, Kevin was like, "Oh, this is making me feel guilty that we aren't going to give her a brother or sister!"
I pointed out, that even if we had another baby, it would never be a "big sister". But then I started wondering, too. Hmmm, should we have more? Is Maggie desperately crying out for a sibling, and we are just selfishly stopping at one?!
So I very gently broached the subject this afternoon:
Me: honey, do you think that you might like to someday have a brother or sister?
Maggie: Um, I don't think so, Mommy. (pronounced "I don't fink so")
Me: Not even to play with? Like with Big Sister?
Maggie: (with an eye roll) Mom, she's im-vis-bu-bul.
Me: So, no baby brother? Not even a baby sister?!
Maggie: No thanks.
Oooo-kaaaay..... Well. I guess we have our answer there. No need to lie awake and feel guilty at night.
This is what Maggie thinks about having another baby in the family. I believe it is her "bershon" look:
