I have really enjoyed the talking stage. It is so interesting to find out what goes on in their little brains. Even if they can sometimes be unsettling or brutally honest. Rue doesn’t miss a thing, so we have to be really careful around her. I’ll start with her quotables, since she talks the most.
Last year, when we took a trip to visit family in Florida, Ruthie the homebody was starting to get homesick during the course of the week. We overheard her having the following conversation with herself while we were there:
“I want to go home! Ruthie, you are home. Ok. . . . . .” (We never told her that the vacation condo was her home! We kept reassuring her that we would be heading home soon. You see what I mean by mildly creepy?)
Whenever I scold her about something, she tells me, “Mama, you hurt my feelings!”
She calls yogurt covered raisins, “beautiful raisins.”
She has lots of commentary about my wardrobe.
She calls Wren’s gated play area “Wrennie’s cage.”
When she is trying to ingratiate herself to Rosie, she tells her, “Rosie, you’re my best sister.”
My husband works for my dad’s firm, and when I told her that Daddy was at work with Grandaddy, she told me, “Daddy needs to get his own work!”
She understandably doesn’t like to eat the leaves on top of strawberries, but she always reminds me that she wants her strawberries “without the salad on top.”
She LOVES clean sheets, and whenever I change her bedding, she can’t wait to go to bed in her “CLEAN SHEETS!” And she always notices when they have been changed too.
If she is going to the bathroom or getting ready for bed, she tells me she “needs her privacy.”
Every time I am cooking dinner, I hear her pushing a chair over to the stove and saying excitedly, “Mama, can I help you make?!”
If she is about to ask me something, and she knows my granting permission is contingent upon me being in good humor, she asks me first, “Mama, are you a mean mama or a nice mama?”
She will ask you if she can tell you a secret, and then simply make whispering sounds really close into your ear.
Whenever we go outside to play, she informs us that she is “going to play basketball with her friends.” Um, ok.
One day she went to my mom’s house and started playing with the Little People nativity scene. She grabbed Mary and a sheep and started singing, “Mary had a little lamb.” Good one, Rose.
Much to Ruth’s chagrin, Rosie has taken to calling everyone “sweetie.”
If you tell her she looks like a beautiful princess, she says angrily, “I not a princess! I Rose!”
Whenever I put on one of my flowy maxi dresses, she gets excited and says, “Mama, you look beautiful! Daddy’s going to dance with you!”
Every day is Rosie’s birthday, and any toy that she doesn’t want Ruthie taking or Wren chewing on is her “very special birthday gift.”
And lastly, today Ruthie stroked my (enormous) belly and said, “I’m here for you, baby. Nothing will ever hurt you.”