Recent Ella-isms

Josh is traveling for work this week so I'm letting Ella sleep in my bed with me.  Last night, about 3 a.m., I woke up and she was practically on top of me on my side of the bed.  I nudged her and told her to move back to her side.  She replied "Mommy, I can't sleep over there.  It's cold as snow."

Metaphors at four, that's my girl.

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My mom recently told Ella she was really proud of her for working hard on something and accomplishing her task by being such a hard worker.  Ella's response was "Well, I don't work so so so so hard, like Mommy."

Waterpark

We have a membership to the Jewish Community Center which has a very nice pool not too far from our house.  But some days, the production of getting into the car and going to the JCC just seems like too much.  I got the genius idea from one of my friends to use two items we already have - a baby pool and a plastic slide - to make our backyard into a pint-size water park.  Ella and Dash LOVED this activity and I could enjoy it from the screened porch where the mosquitoes couldn't get me but the ceiling fan could.  Everybody was happy.

Up and around and down again, over and over and over.

Small Helper

It's all fine and helpful until he inevitably (and inexplicably) starts licking the clean silverware.

Walk!

Dash is one of the most charming and spirited kids I know.  When he wants something that he isn't getting immediately, there is little you can do to avoid a major show of displeasure on his part.  But when he is doing something that makes him happy, he is giggly and joyful and affectionate and just downright hilarious.

His nightly walk is one of his most entertaining habits, and woe to the person who tries to put him to bed without allowing it to happen.  After his bath, he stands up in the tub and starts shouting "Walk! walk! walk!"  When he gets out of the tub, we put a hooded towel on him and he staggers off on a wild and drunken walk around the rooms of the upstairs of our house all the while continuing his marching cry of "walk! walk! walk!"  He stops to offer kisses to anyone around, giggles uncontrollably if Ella tries to chase him, and dodges our attempts to get him into his pjs for many minutes. 

I suspect this is one of those stories with which we'll embarrass him terribly in a few decades.  "Remember when Dash used to walk around naked with a towel on his head every night?"  I can hardly wait.

A modest view of the nightly walk

Laundry

Last night I folded five baskets of kid laundry because the overflowing baskets were starting to take over our living room.  When I went to put them away this morning, I found that the kids' drawers were basically full.  Lesson learned:  I will run out of space to put the laundry before they run out of t-shirts to wear.  Buy less next season.

First sentence

This morning I was attempting to get Dashiell dressed while he was attempting to empty the contents of his bookshelf into the circus tent set up in his room (Ikea is a dangerous place.  You go there for one thing and come home with ten, including a circus tent that takes up half a kid's room).  As he streaked past, books in hand, I tried to grab him and get some clothes onto him.  He looked at me and very seriously said "Book Get Tent".  I am declaring this his first sentence.  Grammatically correct, well no, but his intentions were very clear.  

Small cleaner

Tonight at dinner Ella said “Mama, do you know what C said to me on the swings today?”  What her friend C told her was that C had made her own bed that morning.  Ella asked very seriously if tomorrow morning, she could make her bed herself.  Now her bed has never been made and honestly, I'm not sure Ella even understands the concept.  It’s one of those chores that I just don’t do.  She still takes a nap in the afternoon and making her bed twice a day is just not going to happen.  But, of course of course of course, I said very enthusiastically that it would be great if she wants to start making her own bed.

Apparently the helpful cleaning karma was running strong tonight because as I was vacuuming under the dining room table after dinner (ASIDE:  Do not serve crumbly cornbread to an 18-month old on the same night that your cleaning team has worked their magic.  No good can come of this.), Ella asked me if she could do the rest of the vacuuming.  This is a cleaning miracle on many levels, number one being that for the first 4 years, 2 months, and 4 days of her life (that would be up until yesterday), Ella has been deathly terrified of the vacuum.  Like the kind of terrified where she hides in another room with the door closed, cowering in a corner, and whimpering that the vacuum is “too loud! too loud!” But tonight, well, by golly, she vacuumed up those crumbs and was pleased as could be with herself. 

What a great evening.  I can’t wait to see how the bed-making goes tomorrow.  At this rate, our cleaning crew might have to go on notice.