Daddy Tells the BEST Stories

... a warm and sunny afternoon in our sun porch after a trip to the library made for the perfect opportunity to tell the riveting tale of 'Piggy Pie'...
I'm not sure whose expressions I enjoy more: the girl's or Kurt's! :)

The Superstore Incident

AND a VERY happy Canada Day to you! :)

--

So Peyton's power of speech continues to grow by leaps and bounds. She rarely has trouble expressing exactly what she wants us to know. And I've gotten quite used to knowing what she's saying in pretty much every situation.

We were in line at Superstore on Thursday. She was in the first cart (Kurt's) and I was behind with the second and Tenley. She was kinda being "punchy" (our family word for bratty - but not as harsh-sounding, right?) a few minutes before - but seemed momentarily content. She was transfixed on the cashier - a middle-aged woman who was calmly pushing the items over the scanner and toward Kurt who was packing like a madman at the end of the conveyer belt.

I was distracted from my bored perusal of the Soap Opera magazines by Peyton's voice announcing, "She's fat. Fat, fat, fat! Wow! She's so fat!"

To say I was shocked would be an understatement.

"Peyton!" I said sternly, "WHO are you talking about?" (note to other mom's out there who may be potentially embarrassed by their child's total lack of guile - for pity's sake! if the clarification is going to be brutal - don't ask publicly!)

"That lady, mommy." she said.
POINTING at the cashier.
"She's fat!"

The cashier glanced up at me in time to see my horrified expression. As I looked back at her with a mortified apology written all over my face, she simply shrugged and looked down.

"I'm SO sorry. I don't know what she's talking about! You are not fat!" I gasped.

Then, looking at Peyton, I said in my MOST stern voice, "Peyton Grace Elaine. That is not something you say about or to people. It is unkind. Do you understand?"

She was first puzzled, and then sullen and irritated looking as she replied, "Okay, Mommy. I understand."

I probably apologized at least 3 more times - and also reassured the cashier that I would be discussing some things with my daughter later. She - to her immense credit - was very easy-going and said to me, "You know what? Don't worry about it. Really. I just roll with the punches."

Augh! My daughter punched someone with her MOUTH!

And seriously? (My pride reared it's ugly head.) If my TWO year old is saying that kind of stuff in public, WHERE are people going to think she got it from? From her mother, that's who! I'm going to be thought of as one of those moms who bad-mouths other people in front of my kids. No! No! No! NOOOOO!

-- Now, it is important to note that the cashier really wasn't fat - I wasn't just being politically correct and horrified at the child saying something I myself was secretly thinking. Not that she would be allowed to say such a thing even if the person were heavy!

It's also important to note that we don't use that word in our house at all unless we're talking about something on the edge of a piece of bacon. If you ask Peyton why mommy goes on the treadmill or works out, she'll reply, "To be healthy!"

I've never said a word in front of my girls about wanting to lose weight, or being/feeling 'fat', and we don't even own a scale. It helps that I don't think that way about myself. Besides, they'll figure out the world's standard of thin = beauty soon enough - poor things. But I don't want their insecurities to ever be justified by something they see their own mother pursuing/thinking/obsessing about.

Maybe I'll post on this someday - because I've put a lot of thought into it especially having daughters. But not today! :) )

--
Kurt, meanwhile, was so busy packing he was totally oblivious to the entire interaction.
When we rolled up beside each other outside before we headed to the truck, I asked him to stop so we could talk.

"Ask our daughter what she just said to the cashier." I said with a frown.

He looked at me, and then down at Peyton's innocent face staring back at him.
"What did you say, Peyton?" he asked.

"Nothing." she replied simply.

"That's not true, Peyton!" said an indignant mommy. To Kurt, I blurted, "She told the cashier she was fat!"

"What???" said Kurt.
I was glad to see his horror justifying my own.
"Peyton! Why would you say she was fat?"

"I didn't say that!" she replied with a frown.

Taking a big, dramatic breath, she pronounced with great gusto, "Fats. She was really fats."

We stared at her for a series of heartbeats before I replied, "Fast? You were saying she was fast?"

"Yeah!" she replied with a huge grin and her hands passing sideways mimicking a cashier's slide down the conveyer belt. "She was so fatsT!"

Her tongue literally poked from between her teeth to click out the previously missing - and all-important - 'T'.

Oh, the sweet, sweet clarification of an extra consonant.

You better believe I turned my cart around - Tenley and all - and walked right back into that store. Hey, I'm a woman too - and if some little kid looked at me and announced authoritatively that I was fat, it wouldn't matter HOW good I felt about myself. There would be some damage.

When she looked up and noticed me I said, "Just so you know: when we asked our daughter why she said that she clarified that she thought you were very fast at moving the groceries. Not fat."

She paused while looking at me, and then literally laughed out loud. With a big grin, she told me, "Well, that made my day. You're so sweet to come back and tell me!"

I'm not really sure there is a lesson to be learned here. Perhaps something about listening to your kid before you judge them. Perhaps about not letting pride take over...
I dunno. Regardless. We've had a good laugh over it. :) Thought you might as well...

But blogger is having some trouble - so I'd better post this fats!

Just Dance!

I just got a huge smile on my face watching this.

Maybe because the guy (by his willingness to just have fun) is bringing a smile to other people's faces...
Maybe it's refreshing to see someone not caring how other people perceive him...
Maybe it's just 'cause I love the song. :)

Maybe it will make you smile today, too.

"Dance like nobody's watching. Or in this case - like you don't care everyone is watching!" ;)

Best Political Add EVER!

*pause the music player*

A little more to the American-style campaigning than Canadian - but nevertheless...

I love that it's approved by summer and paid for by spring and fall... :)

(Thanks 22words)

We Don't Have the Blues...

But maybe the purples?
(chuckle!)

This honestly wasn't planned - but just before supper last night we noticed that all three of us Manz-girls were wearing various shades of purples, mauve and violet.
Kurt snapped the picture to capture the moment. :)

Hmmmm....

Which one is my baby, again? ;)

post script: Today at lunch she laughed out loud - belly laughed! - for the first time. Apparently my method of eating a salmon sandwich is hilarious. :)

Monkey See...

Scene:
Peyton fiddling with remote for portable DVD player at table after supper.
Mommy and Daddy casually visiting when their daughter's actions come to their notice.

Mommy: What are you doing, Peyton?

Peyton (without looking up and still pressing buttons): I'm teckting Papa.

Parents exchange odd looks.

Mommy to Daddy (quietly): Did she just say what I think she just said?

Daddy: Peyton? What are you doing?

Peyton (raising her eyes slowly and appearing somewhat exasperated at having to repeat herself when it should be more-than obvious she is busy): I am teckting Papa, Daddy.

Pretty sure that wasn't one of my play-pretend scenarios as a 2-year-old...

"Mad"

She was already starting to crack up.

Amateur.

Hey! We're Twins!

Kinda like Arnie and Danny, right? ;-D

The Tragic Dunking of Zoe Doll

I like to encourage creative play.

It's really neat to see Peyton put pieces of "life" together. She, for example, likes to pretend to "cook" things - complete with microwave sounds.

Not exactly sure what this says for her parent's culinary example, but I digress...

Anyway, this morning, while I was getting ready for the day, she was in my bathroom with me. She had her Zoe doll and said, "Pee-ewww! Poopy!" so I encouraged her from over my shoulder to do what needed to be done for Zoe.

I meant to change the stinky diaper.

I vaguely registered the sound of the toilet lid being lifted and Peyton saying, "Potty, Zoe."
This was followed by a giggled exclamation. "Oh no! Wet toes!"

It felt like one of those slow-motion "Noooooo....oooo....oooo!" scene from a movie - but Zoe was partially dunked before I had a chance to turn around.

Ick.

It was - thankfully - just Zoe's toes that got wet.
As I sponged off the doll as best I could, I explained to Peyton that she was just supposed to pretend to potty Zoe. Which meant keeping the lid down.

With a pert little grin she replied, "Ohhh.... okay, Mommy."

Which causes me to wonder... maybe the child knew she could freak me out?

Hmm.

PS: For those of you who have sent prayers God-ward for us these past couple of days: I continue to remember - not without pain - but without the despair knocking at my door. Thanks times one-hundred million - and even that is not enough.
Much love....

Domestic Bliss

For you girls who are - like me - working out-of-home; and even for those of you who are able to be there full time:

Do you ever have one of those days where your subconscious mind screams at you to be a homemaker?

It's one of those days. I guess it isn't really subconscious, though. I have the time and energy (for the moment, anyway!) and I'm just acting on those impulses. :)

Not only do I have a pot of delicious-smelling soup simmering on the stove, but I'm also tearing through my cookbooks looking for the perfect combo of visual appeal, cooking-time allowed and ingredients I already have in the house for our supper tonight.

I think it's the thrill of being home - but also the rain and cold make me want to just settle in and provide for my family. It helps that there is literally no pressure for me to do this on a daily basis from Kurt. :)

With all the hours I've been working, we've both been pretty pragmatic about the amount of house-ish duties I can/should undertake. He's done a lot of cooking and baking while staying home with Peyton: and I cannot emphasize enough the blessing that has been to me.

That said: I've kinda had to go with the flow a few times. The other day I got home at 5 and couldn't quite bear the thought of his planned supper: perogies, bacon and some token carrots (to make it "healthy", I think).

I probably couldn't even begin to describe the face I made when I heard that delightful combination of food groups. But imagine, if you will, an "Oh sweetie. You're so thoughtful to plan supper." mixed with an, "Are we trying to get coronary artery disease by the time we're 32?" kind of expression.

Anyway, when he left to do chores, I mustered up a rare energy burst. It was probably fueled by dismay. But that's beside the point...

I made a batch of meatballs and gravy, garlic rice and a fresh cucumber salad. All while Peyton stood underfoot and made a less-than-subtle play for my undivided attention. But the fruits of my labor were soon evident by the awesome smell coming from the oven, the salad chilling and ready in the fridge and the fragrant rice cooking in the microwave.

I also did all the dishes and put them away, wiped the counters and kept Peyton happy the entire time by singing silly songs and telling her stories.

(Supergirl? Little 'ol meeee??? Why - you're too kind!)

Relax ladies.
This idyllic tale of domestic bliss concludes somewhat unflatteringly and abruptly for Supergirl.
Keep reading.

When he came home an hour later, he took a big sniff of kitchen air, winked at me and said, "I was really looking forward to perogies and bacon." Let's just say that the wink probably saved him from another combination of looks that wouldn't have been overly edifying or good humored. I also crashed, energy-wise, midway through eating, put everything in the dishwasher (including the pots) and was in bed with puffy ankles elevated by 8:30.

I feel like there should be some "Whah-whah-whaaaahhhhh." music at the end of that story. (chuckle)

But - shaking head sharply - back to the present!
Peyton is napping, and I think I'm going to make a crock-pot meatloaf for supper.
I am loving life today, people. Loving it tons.

Suzie Homemaker, over-and-out.

What's That Smell?

I came home the other morning to get a cup of coffee and check my tire pressure.
When I came in the door, Kurt was on the phone, but I heard Peyton yell, "Mommy! Mommy!"

"I'm here, Peyton!" I called back.

She raced towards me as I came around the corner of the doorway, and threw herself with abandon into my arms.

My first thought was, "This is so nice. She doesn't always do this..."

My second was, "Hold the phone. What's that smell?"

Yepper.
The little girl was not only diaperless, but but she left a large streak of fecal matter all down my left arm. She had been sitting on the potty waiting for her Daddy to clean her up - but due to his distraction on the phone she was able to make a premature escape.

I reminded myself (during my impromptu wardrobe change) that I had planned on washing the bunny hug anyway, thanks to the muddy water that had dripped on it earlier from the hatch of my CR-V.

Baptized with poop.
I guess I'm officially a parent now.

*shrug*

The Facts of Life

Me: "Peyton! We're having chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy with brussel-sprouts for supper tonight!

(About those exclamation marks: I'm always enthusiastic about food. It's the best meal of the day.)

Peyton: "Chicken?" (looking questioningly to her Fisher Price farm-animal collection across the living room) "Eat chicken?"

Me: "You bet, kiddo. We eat chickens."

Peyton: (with a devious grin) "Heh-heh-heh."

A farm kid in the making, I'd say...

Precious Moments

To start this post, I just want to say that Peyton had a terrible night last night. She only wanted Mommy and even though Daddy tried, she kept sobbing uncontrollably until I was with her. I'm not sure if it was a bad dream, being horribly over-tired, or a combination of both. Fortunately, once I brought her into bed with us, she felt secure enough to finally drift off to sleep - with a hand on my cheek to make sure I was still there. :) I woke up around 3:30 after Kurt said, "Kendall. She just pooped." Hmmmm... maybe that was part of the problem, too.

He took and changed her (love that guy!) and I chuckled as I heard her inform him (via the baby monitor) that she now wanted to be in her crib. Funny kid... but that whole incident - and the resulting lack of sleep on her part - has led to a blogging opportunity that hasn't been experienced in ages.

So... here I go. :)

It's strange - because I've been acutely aware over the past few weeks that she will only be this little for a little while longer. The other night I got up around 2:30 am and went into her room just because. My head said, "Let her sleep." but my heart said, "Pick her up and cuddle her because soon she'll be too big." I scooped her up and she mumbled, "Mommy?" then snuggled into my shoulder. We rocked for about 15 minutes before she sat up, rubbed her eyes and said, "Love you, Mommy. Crib?" :) When I left the room, she called out that she loved me again with a sweet smile before she rolled over and went back to sleep. I don't consider myself that impulsive (but don't ask Kurt his opinion, okay?) but that was a moment I will not regret following my impulses. I'm still smiling because of it.

She continues to impress me at swimming lessons. She even touched the bottom of the pool today (with my help) and doesn't cough or gasp at all when we dunk - which is a fair amount. Gotta keep up with the 3 and 4 year olds! (lol!) I know she won't "pass" this year - they have to be able to stand on the bottom of the pool without assist... but it's been a real delight to spend this time with her. Today, she spontaneously started clapping and saying, "Yaaaayyy!" for all the other little kids when they dunked - and after a while, a few of the older kids looked at her and started clapping too. :) I hope she doesn't lose that sense of enjoyment - the one that is so often hampered by self-consciousness and "what will people think of me?" issues.

In the mornings, and after her naps she says, "Morning Mommy!" and then proceeds to say, "Hi Bebe Sissa!" and waits until my belly is close enough to hug and kiss. Occasionally, she'll also whisper, "love you" but I'm not sure if it is to me or her Bebe Sissa. Either way, it's adorable and melts my heart. She's also very tender to her dolls. If I come in after her nap and they're still 'sleeping', she says, "Shhhhh..." and points to the one cuddled up beside her all wrapped in her blankets. I don't know where she gets it. I was not a doll girl, and I'm pretty sure her Daddy was not a doll-boy. But she does have such a tender heart at times, and I'm looking forward to seeing her with the Baby. :)

One other thing to report on: She has turned into such a girlie-girl! :)
(I'm using my best valley-girl accent - imagine it, and it will make that last statement so much better, I promise.)

She loves to get her hair done and look in the mirror - or put on a dress and twirl and dance. We wore our matching Hawaii dresses yesterday to swimming lessons and before we left she almost made herself fall down from saying, "Spin, Mommy!" and doing just that herself to watch her dress flare out. She also will come up to me when I have my hair and/or makeup done and said, "Oh.... pretty, Mommy!" My own personal cheering squad! :)

The other day after she was admiring my polished toes, I asked her if she wanted to paint her toenails. She jumped up, yelled, "Okay!" and tore out of the room. I followed her as she ran to my bathroom, opened the cupboard and pulled out the bag of nail polishes. She walked past me towards the living room with matter-of-fact, "Come here, Mommy." (lol!) After being shown all her options, she choose a bright-pink corral colour - and has been walking around since then looking at her toes saying, "Oh! Pink! Pretty."

.

Anything for beauty...that's my girl! ;-D

Sometimes my heart could break with thankfulness for this child God has given us. She is a delight - and I am humbled that she is mine to look after and love. For those of you who follow our family's happenings and keep us in your prayers: thank you. We're in a really good place right now and I have no doubt it is because of all that support and love.

Okay! I hear a little voice calling me so I guess that blog time - ahem - nap time is over.
Talk to you soon, friends! :)

It's All About Proper Refrencing

"What you talkin 'bout, Mommy?"
(the infamous "mad-face")

I just taught my 20-month old daughter to drink out of her new straw-containing sippy-cup by explaining, "No, Peyton, honey. Don't tip it up. Put it on your boobies while you drink."
And wouldn't you know - she cued right in and followed the instructions to a tee - with a big grin, no less.
That kid cracks me up.

She Wants It Back (#1)

My very serious tiny dancer... remember to pause the music.

She Wants It Back (#2)

I hope Carrie Underwood would be proud. :)

Scary Face

Photo credit goes to Julie Cortens.
Last month, she asked Peyton to show her the "scary-face" at East Side Marios.
Peyton loves to accommodate. (lol.)
Facial credit goes to my husband. He has also taught her "mad" and "happy" which she does in rapid sequence over and over until her face tires out.
It's quite funny - but I doubt I could catch it on camera.
So I'm glad I have this one! :-D

(this is on my desktop, by the way)

Belated Message

Happy Valentines Day, everyone!

Love, Peyton

She's My Child

This morning I was sitting on our living room floor, drinking the last of my coffee while watching speed skating. I gotta say: Peyton was kinda being a nuisance. (I say this in a loving way, though.)

She always wants to try what we have - doing this intense, chin-jut thing that is pretty cute... but then she moves closer, and closer until she's literally 2 inches from your face. Seriously? Oscar was more subtle.

So I thought I'd teach her that grown-up drinks aren't always yummy.
I handed her my pretty much empty mug with the words, "Okay you little mooch. Try this."

I barely held back on the "Bah-ha-ha!!"

She eagerly grabbed my coffee cup and took a swig of my coffee then grimaced.

"Sweet success!" I thought.

The little stinker grinned at me, said, "Ahhhhhh!!!!" and went back for another gulp.

Peyton: 1.
Mommy: 0.