Beeg Gore Potty!
That's right! Emma's been all about the bathroom lately and figured out that if she sat on the potty she'd get a treat! How fun! So we took her on a special trip to pick out a big girl potty. The whole way to the store she kept saying "beeg gore potty!" with a proud smile. Once we got down the potty aisle, she seemed more interested in the baby toys on the other side and couldn't concentrate long enough to choose one herself.....that is until she spotted the Dora potty! So now she sits upon a throne of Dora and Boots and is excited to do so! We weren't expecting much from this not-even-two-year-old, but she surprised us and went potty! She was really excited to get a Dora sticker and a treat, so hopefully this will work for her! Selfishly, I would enjoy having only one in diapers!!! The funny part is that she likes to have us "weed Queeford doggie" (read Clifford doggie), so we have to sit and read a book to her while she tries her very hardest. And in the meantime she pops up every two seconds to see if she's done anything. It's quite a sight really!
Emma has also taken to saying grace with us before meals. The evolution of her language is really funny, and I see now why Jesus liked kids so much- because they are hilarious! I'm sure he's up there laughing every time she prays. It started out as "Amover son, oh man!" but has recently turned into "Amover son, a speer, amen, time to eat!" (In the name of the father, and of the son, and of the holy spirit, amen, time to eat). It's difficult not to snicker when she's seriously praying like this.
At the bank this morning Emma was in toddler heaven because there were dozens of deflated balloons. Although she was a good listener and stayed right by me, she kept voicing her wants, saying "touching boonoons". The nice bank manager told her she could have one if she wanted, so her daddy picked out the big shiny floating one (the only one not lying dead on the floor), and attached it to her wrist. The whole time we were opening our account, she sat on the chair and said "Datoo" (which is "thank you" in Emma's terms) over and over. We were so proud of her polite behavior, and then she got all excited and pointed at the manager's hair and said loud enough for him to hear "Gwampa hair". All I could do was pray he didn't understand her perfect pronunciation. She repeated herself and then her voice got a little louder as she said "Gwampa, hold jew?" Oh boy, this poor guy was no more than 30, and he DEFINITELY heard that clearly enough, but he pretended not to notice. Braden and I wanted to melt, but we realize this is only the first of many things to come that Emma will say that will embarass us. Isn't that our job? Oh well, she's a handful, and she sure does like to chat!
In other recent Emma news, she has aquired herself a parasol. Well, that's what we call her new umbrella since it doesn't seem to rain here and she loves to use it all the time. This southern belle has a Bob the Builder parasol- real feminine we know- and loves it so much that she takes it everywhere! But she refuses to hold the little action-figure handle because she just wants to look at Bob the whole time.
Bela is having a rough time lately. The poor baby is sick with a terrible cold (as are Braden and Emma) and has become the central figure in "Operation Crib Bootcamp". That's right, she got booted from our bed last night and won't be returning, and boy is she hopping mad. She's got the French Canadian stubborn-ness and spent the better part of last night absolutely refusing to sleep, but finally relented long enough to catch a brief snooze. Today is going a little better I suppose. Here's hoping we can get this down before Braden and I collapse from exhaustion. Don't worry- Emma's doing great- running around as usual of course!
Emma has also taken to saying grace with us before meals. The evolution of her language is really funny, and I see now why Jesus liked kids so much- because they are hilarious! I'm sure he's up there laughing every time she prays. It started out as "Amover son, oh man!" but has recently turned into "Amover son, a speer, amen, time to eat!" (In the name of the father, and of the son, and of the holy spirit, amen, time to eat). It's difficult not to snicker when she's seriously praying like this.
At the bank this morning Emma was in toddler heaven because there were dozens of deflated balloons. Although she was a good listener and stayed right by me, she kept voicing her wants, saying "touching boonoons". The nice bank manager told her she could have one if she wanted, so her daddy picked out the big shiny floating one (the only one not lying dead on the floor), and attached it to her wrist. The whole time we were opening our account, she sat on the chair and said "Datoo" (which is "thank you" in Emma's terms) over and over. We were so proud of her polite behavior, and then she got all excited and pointed at the manager's hair and said loud enough for him to hear "Gwampa hair". All I could do was pray he didn't understand her perfect pronunciation. She repeated herself and then her voice got a little louder as she said "Gwampa, hold jew?" Oh boy, this poor guy was no more than 30, and he DEFINITELY heard that clearly enough, but he pretended not to notice. Braden and I wanted to melt, but we realize this is only the first of many things to come that Emma will say that will embarass us. Isn't that our job? Oh well, she's a handful, and she sure does like to chat!
In other recent Emma news, she has aquired herself a parasol. Well, that's what we call her new umbrella since it doesn't seem to rain here and she loves to use it all the time. This southern belle has a Bob the Builder parasol- real feminine we know- and loves it so much that she takes it everywhere! But she refuses to hold the little action-figure handle because she just wants to look at Bob the whole time.
Bela is having a rough time lately. The poor baby is sick with a terrible cold (as are Braden and Emma) and has become the central figure in "Operation Crib Bootcamp". That's right, she got booted from our bed last night and won't be returning, and boy is she hopping mad. She's got the French Canadian stubborn-ness and spent the better part of last night absolutely refusing to sleep, but finally relented long enough to catch a brief snooze. Today is going a little better I suppose. Here's hoping we can get this down before Braden and I collapse from exhaustion. Don't worry- Emma's doing great- running around as usual of course!