Conversations with pre-rational beings

The Big Ones are playing downstairs.  I am doing Something Important (translation: putting away laundry) upstairs.

BK2: Immah!

Me: Whaaaat?

BK2: BK1 Hit me!  He did!

Me: BK1?

Bk1: Well, he did hit me FIRST.

Silence.  They both realize they have both confessed to hitting each other.

Bks: Um, Nevermind!

Yeah, that’s what I thought.


Filled out the 15 month questionnaire at the well-baby visit:

Q: Does your baby 2 – 3 words she uses often?

A: Um, no.  She has 20.  We’re screwed, aren’t we?


I’m on the phone talking to my mother.

Mom: I read your blog,but I notice I didn’t make it to the cast of characters.

(Note:  My mother cannot guilt me.  My grandmothers have somehow bequeathed me their own formidable skills, and any attempt on Mom’s part to use guilt on me usually backfires, one way or another.  It’s a blessing, what can I say?)

Me: Well, since we haven’t discussed your appearance in the blog  (and I’m big on respecting privacy) I didn’t want write about you just yet.  But now that you mention, If you don’t pick a pseudonym for yourself, I’ll be forced to come up with something on my own, and you can only guess how that’ll go for you…Zaydie’s Old Lady has a nice rhyming scheme now that I think about it…

Mom: How ’bout ‘The Mama*?’

Me: Sold

*not to be confused with Da Momma, who is of no relation (even though I totally relate).  You both rock, though, and Happy Mother’s Day while we’re at it.


Changing a happy baby’s diaper.

Me: Who’s a cutie-patootie?

BG: Me!

The Unwritten Rules of Motherhood (more later) dictate that showing off to Aunt MommyOmy is expected.  Little g is laughing or crying on the other end of the phone.  It’s hard to tell.

Me: MommyOmy, check this out! BG, who’s a cutie-patootie?

BG: The Mama!

Me: Ok, forget you, MommyOmy, time to call The Mama.

Me: The Mama, check this out!  (hands phone to BG) Who’s a cutie-patootie?

BG: Elmo!

Me: I give up.



BG: Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahh!

Me: Morning, Starshine!

BG: Waaahh! Waaahh!

BK1: Morning, Immah.  Where’s Daddy?

Me: Getting Dressed.

BG: Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahh!

BK2: TaDah! (showing off his completely dressed self).  Am I going to school?

Me: (trying to keep glee out of my voice) Oh Yeah!

BG: Waaaaaahh! Waaahh!  WAAAAAAHHHHHH!

Strap BG into highchair.

Me: Ok, sweetie, just a second.


Pour milk into cup, hand cup to Baby.

BG: Oh!  Dank Yoo!

Alrighty, then.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: