Quick Update

Can someone put me up for the night?

I was on the phone with my daughter this afternoon and told her that I can't wait to see her.
She replied, "I see you Friday."

I laughed. "Today is Monday," I said. "I can't wait until Friday!"

"Tomorrow then," she said.

"Tomorrow?" I replied. "Where am I supposed to go tonight?"
"Maybe I see you tomorrow," she repeated with finality.


As for Rachel's crime of the day, it was taking black nail polish out of the refrigerator and pouring it onto the tile floor of the kitchen. (Rebecca is not goth by any means; she uses the black nail polish for Halloween.)

Tonight, Rebecca repeated her admonition to Rachel to never dump out nail polish like that again. Rachel, sitting at her little table and drawing, never even responded.

"Did you hear your mother?" I asked Rachel. "Did you hear what she told you?"

Scarcely looking up, Rachel replied, "Whatever."

Rachel is three.

The teenaged years look like they are going to be soooo much fun!

Sponges, Potties and Fish (Oh My!)

I don't know what it is, but now that she's three, Rachel has ramped up her entertainment value in a major way. You just never know what's going to come out of
her mouth. Toddlers are sponges, you know...sponges with a much more sophisticated central nervous system.

Perhaps the best example is a recent minor league hockey game we attended. Our tickets are generally 11 rows behind the net. Twice in two periods, the other team's goalie is in front of us.

The other team's goalie tends to get taunted and the taunts aren't exactly crafted by MENSA. So imagine our surprise when we heard our sweet little curly-haired sugar and spice daughter apply the cheer to the little boy in her class who she often calls her boyfriend.

"Bennett, Beeeeennnnnneetttttttt, BEEEEENNNNNNNETTTTTT....YOU SUCK!"

I almost gave myself whiplash as I whirled my head around. Of course, I have an incredulous grin on my face as my wife tells me through gritted teeth, "Ignore her. Ignore her. She'll stop."

She did, but it was fun while it lasted. Not that she needs to know that.

By the way, the best taunt I ever heard at a hockey game was, "Hey ref! Are you pregnant? You've missed the last two periods!" High comedy!

Rachel is also making the transition from changing table to potty and from diapers to pullups. So our conversation often turns to #1 and #2 these days.

One day, she is about to pull apart her diaper to sit on the potty when I say, "Wait a minute, sweetie! What's in your diaper?"

"It's just tt..." she replies, "...probably."

Rachel it's the "probably" that worries me.

We had another humorous incident recently. Rachel obviously needed changing, but I wanted to see who won the Olympic event on the tv before I went to the changing table. My wife was cooking dinner on the stove. It was a dish that generated a lot of steam.

At one point, the steam reaches the smoke detector and it goes off. I wave my hand under it three times and it shuts off.

I turn to my wife and exclaim, "Man! That must be one bad diaper!"

As you no doubt would surmise, Rachel is the star of endless photographs in our family. She loves having her picture taken and loves looking at the digital photos on the computer.

Recently, the three of us went to the Georgia Aquarium for the first time. I left my camera at home, so I could take in all the sights without the extra baggage.

Imagine our chagrin as our daughter continually tried to bolt from us. Since we hadn't brought our camera, she wanted to pose in other families' pictures! I had to keep grabbing her to keep her out of the frame!

There was also a moving sidewalk under a huge tank where you could lay down and watch the fish as they swam over you. Rachel kept maneuvering herself until she could be next to whatever cute little boy was in the area.

That's it! I'm locking her up until she's 25.

"Hormones, hooorrrrmmmonneessss, HOORRRRRMMOOONNEEESSS!...YOU SUCK!"

Declaration of Independence

As you know, Rachel recently turned three. She has wasted no time asserting her independence. "I want to do it!" is a much-heard phrase in our house.

First, she began to potty train. There have been a few bumps along the way, like the time she ripped off her diaper to do #1 in the potty when there was already #2 in the diaper. That wasn't very fun. Then there is that annoying thing she does about trying to stuff as much toilet paper as possible into the potty before she has actually done anything. And then there are those episodes when she just can't stop flushing the big toilet.

Brushing her teeth is another matter though. She doesn't brush as much as suck off the toothpaste, wet the toothbrush, drink it, wet the toothbrush, drink it, wet the toothbrush, drink it, wet the toothbrush, drink it and continue to have fun fun fun 'til daddy takes the toothbrush away.

She seems to have taken more of an interest in hygiene. It was nice to see her wash her own face the other night. The real test will be to get her to do it after black beans or yogurt. How this child gets yogurt on her forehead still baffles me!

She doesn't mess with her hair. Once in a while, I try to get the tangles out, but it's so long, she lets me know when she wants no more daddy help. You have to be careful not to catch her hair in seatbelts or in armholes when she wears a pullover. I would not remotely know what that must feel like.

Rachel has also started putting on her own socks and is interested in tying her shoes, but she's not quite ready for that.

We usually can't leave the house without four Little People plastic figures. She loves her Little People, especially when she totes 'em around in her Hello Kitty metal purse or the blue denim purse her grandma made her with Rachel stitched on it in orange letters.

Darn Little People! Rebecca bought Rachel a Little People cd all about numbers and one of the songs is a rewrite of Lou Bega's Mambo #5. So the song I spent so much time getting out of my head is back in there.

Like many children, Rachel has taken an interest in the human body. Why, just the other day, she was asking about mustaches.

My wife explained that men can grow mustaches and facial hair, but women cannot.

Rachel thought about that a few seconds and then, referring to the assisted living facility where my uncle now lives asked, "What about the ladies where Uncle Jimmy is?"

Rebecca laughed about two minutes before she could speak again.