If you're wondering, yes, I'm still working on getting my program together for Saturday. The good news is I've decided to break the ice with, "Day one, I am born," and work from there. Not much else has been accomplished around the Split-level besides me staring at the computer and directing children to stale pretzels under the couch. Unfortunately, Sundance has figured out a way to get my attention, whether I like it or not.
"I hope they learn how to talk early," I said.
"I hope they're super smart and can recite The Charge of The Light Brigade before they're two," said Husband.
"Talking will be so nice," I said.
"Talking will be the best thing ever," said Husband.
"Can you think of anything better than talking children?" I said.
"Nope," Said Husband. "Not even ice cream or Malamutes or double rainbows on a sunny day."
....and they lived happily ever after.
...no they didn't.
Because their dear daughter keeps picking words and phrases to say over and over again. Sundance, bless her, is one of the smartest babies in the whole world, but this talking thing is getting out of hand.
Words repeated this week:
"I not tired!"
"He funny, Momma!"
*points at elderly stranger* "Not Grandma!"
"Wake up, Momma!"
"Momma, you hiding?"
"Momma, you drinkin' again?"
"Daddy, Momma crying in the backyard!"
And the most popular phrase since we fell over and skinned our knee, while pointing at said knee and yelling dramatically, "I hurt!"
I'll be spending the rest of the day getting my thoughts and the rest of my presentation together. Then again, I only have about five more minutes before nap time ends, a fat face peeks around my door, holds out its hand and demands, "Cookie for me?"
Feel free to share any toddler talking stories. I'm off to go hide.
Until Next Time, Readers!