they do something cute. After the pee pee incident (see post from earlier today), Elisabeth and I were on the outs. During "quiet time" (the same person who coined "sleeps like a baby" coined this term too) I heard Elisabeth run to the bathroom. The clod clod clod of little feet (pitter patter - ha). I go sprinting upstairs expecting the worst. Elisabeth is on the potty, and she says, "I'm going pee pee on the potty. Are you so happy??" After expressing my sheer joy (at not having to clean another carpet), I asked her if she felt it coming and ran to the potty. She said, and I quote, "yes, mommy. I been sittin in my room watchin Snow White when I felt the pee pee comin out. So I run run in here and go pee pee. It been a predicament." Predicament?? I don't even use that word in casual conversations. So she melted my tough exterior with her humor.
Then, Charlotte woke up. And she screamed. And screamed. And then when she was done, she screamed some more. This is so very unlike Charlotte, so I am blaming the evil teeth monster. She hasnt slept well this week, and is just really unhappy today. However. I am studying for the bar. I rely (apparently to my detriment) on nap times. So I tried to listen to the last of my Bar/Bri lecture with Charlotte on my lap. Screaming. Which is incredibly frustrating. So when Elisabeth came to the top of the stairs hollering something that sounded like hot, or out, or cart - I just yelled back "I don't care, go to your room, it is NOT 3-0-0 yet, so don't come back until it is." Add this to my resume for my application for Mommy of the Year. Being the good little girl she is (she is always good after getting in trouble) she went back to her room and I did not hear another peep out of her until 3-0-0. I went up to get her and she said, "Mommy, come see the hawk!"
You need a little background to understand. I LOVE my wild birds (that eat at my bird feeders). I feel like they're my little pets. Hawks also love my little birds, and we've actually seen a few of my bird feeder birds get devoured by hawks on our deck. So I hate the hawks. Except that I love them. They're so pretty, and big, and have these huge talons, and walk on the ground like chickens. Apparently 80% of juvenile hawks die each winter because they can't get enough to eat. So I try to console myself that it is all part of nature's cycle. Anyway, we often have hawks on the fence in the back yard, or on the bird house back there. And I love to watch them. Apparently I have instilled this love in my child.
She took me to her window to show me where the hawk was. (oh, hawk is what she was hollering at the top of the stairs, not hot, or cart - it is hard to understand her with screaming Charlotte on your lap) The hawk had gone on by that point, but she said, "the hawk came to have quiet time with me. He sat out there being quiet. Waiting for his hawk friends. He waited with me." I'm really glad she has a love of nature, and enjoys looking out her window at the birds and foxes. As much as I gripe about her potty training, I have a pretty darned great kid.
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