Ethereal Bacon

I sort of lied.  This little vintage AJ-ism was too much of a gem to allow it to get swallowed up by the others.  Circa 2012 and oh so classic.

AJ: Everything I ate today tasted like pig.
Me: What? Everything tasted like pig? Why would everything taste like pig?
AJ: Yes, Pig. I have ghost pigs in my mouth.
Me: Ghost pigs?
AJ: Yes. Ghost pigs in armor.
Me: Do they at least taste good?
AJ: Oh yes. 

A collection of AJ-isms - 2009 and 2010

Admittedly, 2009 is a bit sparse.  For one, AJ was only 1 years old and I think I was still suffering pretty badly from severe lack of sleep.  Well...I still am but I wasn't used to it then.  So, this collection combines 2009 and 2010.  Enjoy.

The things we do
AJ went through a phase when she was about one years old where she loved tearing off little bits of toilet paper and then stuffing them up her nose.  Never in a million years did I think I would ever have to dig out little wads of tissue from someone's nostrils.

There is nothing wrong with my glasses

Let them eat cake
For lunch AJ had a sandwich, some pretzels with hummus, and a pickle. She removed the bread from her sandwich and stuck all the pretzels in it and declared, "happy cake!" She ate the pickle and hummus.

Little Birdie
AJ has been making bird calls...only we have no idea what she thinks she's mimicking. She puts her hand to her mouth and calls out "who WHO" but the inflection is wrong for an owl.  Plus she adamantly tells you its not an owl.

If you give an AJ a banana...
If AJ asks for a banana, you must give her a banana unpeeled. If its peeled, she won't eat it. If the banana breaks while she is peeling it, she won't eat it.  I never imagined eating bananas could be so stressful.

Obviously
I am drawing with AJ. She tells me to draw an acorn and an "A." Then she asks me to draw an "R", and then an "icky." I ask her, "What is an icky?"  She tells me, "Poop. Draw a poop, Momma."

Rabbits
I went to wake AJ up. She was feeling cuddly, so we snuggled up.
Me: You're Momma's special little girl.
AJ:  *Stops cuddling and stares at me hard.* I NOT little girl, I a rabbit.  A special rabbit.
I stand corrected.

Wishful Thinking
Me: Go find a book. Its bedtime.
AJ: I read. You go to bed.

A collection of AJ-isms - 2011

All My Fingers
Me: Do you know how old you are?
AJ: Oh yes, I'm 3.
Me: How many fingers is that?
AJ: I have all my fingers. Thank you.

Care Bear Stare
Me: AJ, its time for bed. Get some books so we can read a bedtime story.
*AJ sticks her stomach out and stares at me intently.*
AJ: Care Bear Stare!
Ahem...yeah, it didn't work. But she gets points for effort and cuteness.

Here There Be Ducks
AJ was walking around the house dropping raisins on the floor. I asked her to please stop.
Her reply: "But Mooooooom, I'm feeding the ducks!" Oi.

Baby Chickens
Me: AJ, soon you'll meet your baby cousin when Aunt Lisa has her baby.
AJ: Hmm...my baby is in Aunt Lisa's womb?
Me: Yes. But soon he'll be born and he'll be on the outside.
AJ: Yes. And when I was in your womb.......I was a baby chicken. 

Robot Butts
Me: AJ, you should go the bathroom and try to go potty.
AJ: (in a robotic, stilted voice) No. I am a robot and I do not want to go potty.
Me: Well, the robot should use the potty.
AJ: No. I am a robot and I have a glass butt.

Be Calm
AJ: Mom. I am going to do something and I need you to not freak out.
Me: What? What are you going to do?
AJ: Uhm...something. Be calm.

Pesky Witches
AJ: I'm not AJ, I'm Max.
Me: Oh No...what happened?
AJ: There was a witch and she was angry and she turned me into Max. Now there are two Maxes and no AN.

Christmas AJ-isms
AJ insisted on having five stockings for the wall this Christmas. We went shopping and AJ came home with two small stockings: one each for her imaginary friends: Loogu and Dega.

Some folks really get into Christmas decorating.  We do a pretty lazy job at it.  AJ likes to remedy this by adding a little each day. I kept finding fabric scraps draped over the Christmas tree like garland. Oh AJ...she is so busy while Mommy isn't watching.

Sock Hops and Ballet

AJ has been a little obsessed recently with ballet and has been talking about wanting to take ballet classes for two months now.  She practices twirls and little leaps with her arms raised over head as we're walking down the street. She spins about in the stores when we're waiting to check out.

Yesterday, her class was scheduled to have their little sock hop.  AJ is not particularly fond of school, so in the morning when I went to wake her up I mentioned the sock hop.

AJ: What is a sock hop?
Me: Its a dance.  It'll be fun.  Let's get dressed so you're not late to school.
AJ: Dance...*her eyes start to light up* Ohh...I can do ballet, I can do my ballet at the sock hop.
Me: *Knowing full well that sock hops are generally not for ballet* Oh, uhm...sure...you can do your ballet.

So AJ excitedly got dressed and practiced her ballet at every opportunity which earned her the applause of a random stranger passing us on the sidewalk.  I felt a little guilty knowing that sock hops aren't exactly about ballet but its also preschool so I knew they wouldn't care if all AJ did was spin and twirl and leap during Peggy Sue and Rock Around the Clock.

Of course, when I picked AJ up from school, she pulled me over to the laptop that continuously runs a video of the day's highlights for parents.  Sure enough there was AJ gracefully spinning and twirling and leaping about to some 50s song that I couldn't quite make out.  The rest of the kids were jumping and bopping around gleefully.

AJ: Uhm...I'm the ONLY one who is dancing.  The other kids are just jumping.  *She's giving me that look that is a mix of exasperation and disbelief.*
Me: Well...they look like they are having fun.  Did you have fun?
AJ: Yes.
Me: Oh goo... *AJ cuts me off*
AJ: Until I got bumped.  I got bumped, Mom.  I was doing ballet and I got bumped by the other children.

Thankfully, AJ didn't hold anything against me.  She was just a little indigent that nobody understood the seriousness of her ballet.

On Wasp Stings

We got a car about a month ago.  We've been without a car since well before Aria was born so we've been making up for lost time and having Sunday Family Adventures. Today's family adventure was in the Salmon Huckleberry Wilderness of the Mt. Hood National Forest.  It was gorgeous.  Lots of beautiful, lush old growth and by the looks of the overgrown trail, not as well traveled as you would think, given you can drive right up to the trail head.

I like to refer to these as Dr. Seuss trees.  Aria prefers "hairy trees."

Anyhow, the hike was pretty decent.  Not exceptionally tough but a steady incline which got me huffing and puffing. Unfortunately, a few miles into the hike, Aria started yelping in pain.  I figured she got stuck by a thorn but when I got closer I saw a wasp hanging off her calf.  The damn thing didn't want to disengage either and it took me tapping the thing a number of times before it finally flew off.  Phil made a poultice from some tobacco and then bandaged her leg up.  We asked if she wanted to head back but she insisted on continuing. She seemed okay so we decided that we would continue and keep a close eye on her for any signs of an allergic reaction.  She got pretty far before deciding that perhaps we should head back to the car.   

The poor lass sitting for a spell contemplating life's important questions, like why, oh why did the wasp sting me!?

On the way back to the car, Aria started off with a diatribe against wasps.  I do believe her words were, "I don't like those hateful things.  Momma, I can say that, you know.  Because its the only bad word that I know, and I know what it means and I am really mad at that wasp.  Can I say that word?" (I should note that "hateful" is actually not the only bad word that she knows. In fact, she knows quite a number of choice words, but I suppose I should be relieved that she couldn't remember them in the heat of the moment.  heh.)

And just so everyone knows, I assured her that yes, indeed, I was okay with her using that word as I felt it was most appropriate given the circumstances.

I suppose her anger dissipated rather quickly because not even a few yards down the trail, Aria started to express concern and worry about the damn wasp.

Aria: Momma, I feel bad for the wasp.
Me: What? Why?
Aria: Because I must have kicked it, maybe I stepped on its home.
Me: Well that is very sweet of you, but since you didn't do it on purpose, I think you shouldn't worry about it too much.
Aria: It was an accident but I can't tell the wasp that.  I wish I could say, 'hey wasp, I didn't mean to kick you.  I didn't do it on purpose.  Sorry, wasp.'
Me: ...okay...
Aria: That might help the wasp feel better.
Me: Uhm...Sure...right.

The good news is not even a wasp sting can keep Aria the explorer down for long.  Finding a creek rejuvenated her spirits.

~Cheers!~
Robin

Maps and the Force of Darkness

I picked up Aria from school yesterday and she excitedly showed me the map she had made at school.

So first, let me just say that we finally got a car and we took this fabulous family trip to Beacon Rock in Washington.  We had a blast and there was some talk about volcanoes and mountain climbing.  Aria was a little concerned that "Mountain Hood" or "Mountain St. Helens" would erupt and we had to repeatedly tell her that it was unlikely.

The view from Beacon Rock and my little hiker.  The elevation changes almost 800 feet in just a mile.  I was huffing and puffing it up the big rock but Aria didn't even seem phased by it.  Of course, I'm a wee bit out of shape but still.

So anyhow, I pick her up from school yesterday and she shows me this map.

Its a map to a pot of gold which is at the end of rainbow...of course.

The following conversation occurred.  True story.

Me: Wow. Is that the little splotch of yellow right there the gold?
Aria: Oh yeah...see, you can see the little rainbow.
Me: Yeah, yeah...I see that.  That's pretty cool.  What is the big black thing?
Aria: Oh oh, see that (pointing to the brown scribble on the left), that's the mud puddle.  Be careful, Mommy. And, and that (pointing to the tall red image next to the puddle) is a....VOLCANO!
Me: A volcano!?
Aria: Yes.  *whispering* Its Mountain St. Helens.
Me: Mt. St. Helens.
Aria: Mountain St. Helens.  And its ready to erupt.  Don't touch it.  Oh oh (pointing to the blue blob on the right) THIS is a lake...a nice, cool lake.
Me: Mmm...Uhm, what is the black thing?
Aria: That's the forces of darkness!
Me: The forces of darkness?
Aria:  Yes...Remember, Mr. Mallard?  He was turn-ed into a GOAT.  But I won't be turn-ed into a goat so do not worry.  But don't touch the gold, Mommy, because you might be turn-ed into a GOAT.

Ahhh...good times.  This map, Mr. Mallard, the forces of darkness...they are so brilliant.

*I should note that the little red splootch in the bottom left side of the forces of darkness is the "blood of animals" in case anybody is wondering.  Yeah...

Mr. Mallard

Aria has a small little rubber goat that she has named Mr. Mallard.  Mr. Mallard is a very special goat. He has four small children that he carried and birthed himself. 

The other day Aria was holding him and said in a shaky old goat voice, "80 years ago, I was a human until the forces of darkness turned me into a goat..."

See.  Mr. Mallard is a very special goat.  :)