Santa's Sister

Carter: Do you know what this is?

Sadie: It's a penny!

Carter: Do you know that if you have a hundred of these, it will be the same as having a dollar?

Sadie: I don't want to have a dowar. Sorry, but I'm too wittow to have a dowar.

Carter: Do you want to save your penny in your piggy bank?

Sadie: No, I can just put it in my pocket.

Sadie got so mad at me this morning because I gave her a purple bowl when she wanted a yellow or green bowl. She screamed at me and hit me for almost twenty minutes. She ran away for a minute and came back a little more calm. She whispered to me, "You have to try new things cause it might taste goo-ood. Goo-ooh-ood." Then she went into the kitchen and ate her breakfast. That is not the first time that I have been grateful for the songs she learns on Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood. 

Preston: You can't read Big Nate. It's a boy book.

Avery: But you're reading Ever After High...

Sadie: Is the Tooth Fairy Santa's sister?

I gave Sadie a hug, and she kissed my face. Then she scrunched up her face and asked, "What's that sme-oh?" I had just put some toner on my face. "Oh, does it smell kind of weird?" She shook her head. "No. It sme-ohs not weird. It sme-ohs horriboh!"

After my shower, my hair was drying super curly and funky, but I didn't feel like blow drying it and straightening it. My bangs were the biggest culprit of my weird hair, so I just pulled them back and left the rest poofy and curly, not a style I have done pretty much ever. Sadie saw me and said, "Is that you, Mama? You wook wike not you. You wook different and weird. You don't wook wike Mama."

I couldn't find all the Anne of Green Gables books in our house, so I ordered a new box set. I hope Avery likes it as much as I did as a kid. 

Someone called Sadie sassy. "Oh, am I wike Wizzie? (Her cousin) Wizzie is sassy, too. We're the same!"

Avery suddenly gets jokes and sometimes makes up her own jokes, especially puns, which seem somewhat advanced for an eight-year-old. Maybe I am wrong about this? Maybe it just seems advanced after the boys, who both still find the most satisfaction in potty humor...

Uni-brows and Bacon Bits

Sadie is very concerned because she just noticed that "Bert ony has one eyebrow! He does have ony one eyebrow."

One good thing about kids who tattle is that I end up hearing little gems like this. "Mom, is Carter supposed to be eating handfuls of bacon bits?" Or "Mama, did you say that Sadie could play in the water in the bathroom?" Or "Mama, Carter's not wetting me stea-oh your chocowate." Or (at least fifty times a day, every day lately) "Avie/Presty/Carter stow my spot! Tehw them to get out and to weave me awone. She/he's not weaving me awone!"

Kids are honest. "Mama, you're not as skinny as Aunt Heather." Or "You have a wot of owies on your face, Mama." Or "Why do I have to clean my room? YOU didn't clean your room. It's a giant mess." Or "Are you just not as good at cooking as Daddy is?"

Sadie: When I grow up, I want to be a mama. Wike Aunt Becky, not wike you. So I can have a wot of wittow boys. And twins.

Do you ever find that one doctor who really gets you, is appropriately concerned, pays attention to all the little details, asks all the questions, tells it how it is, and really makes sure you get the care you need for whatever it is? Yeah, I really like that guy, even if he is honest just like my kids. "I can see that you've gained a lot of weight since I saw you just a few months ago.... Oh, and here's a prescription for more steroids so you can gain even more weight..." 

And to make up for all their honesty, I do hear things like this all the time. "You're my wittow sweetie, Mama. You're just a wittow cutie. You're the baby, and I'm the mama. I can take care of you. I wuv you, wittow Mama." (We'll just pretend that it balances out the kicking fits and tantrums. It sort of does.)