She Says

Dada, you really need to get to work

So I realize this blog is becoming nothing more than the occasional Natalie Quote but it is all going to come together when I write the new bestseller "Ca*a My Daughter Says" ...

Anyway, I am wearing latex gloves twice a day...

What? Do you need an explanation as to why I am wearing Latex gloves twice a day? I can't just drop that at the start of a blog and move on...

Fine.

I wear them in an attempt to finally rid myself of an annoying rash on my hands that has lingered for over six months and made the skin on my palms resemble my high-school baseball glove. The rash is a result of one of the medications I take for Crohn's. It is awesome. Sara has taken to calling me Lizard Man, which would be cool if I had Lizard like super-powers or a tail I could whack her with when she calls me "Lizard Man" and not just leathery hands that make me feel self-conscious.

Anyway, I've begun various drastic actions to try to alleviate the rash, including slopping on a bunch of Aquaphor and putting my hands in latex gloves for an hour while I do my morning chores.

The other day Natalie sat gleefully finishing her breakfast and she noticed I was wearing the gloves when I came upstairs. She paused and looked thoughtfully at my gloved hands. I expected a "Daddy, why are you wearing those gloves?" followed by a long string of why's that would eventually end when I collapsed from exhaustion.

Instead she said:

"Oh Daddy! I like those gloves. They are fancy"

I smiled. Sara keeled over laughing and once again we were reminded about the importance of perspective. Life didn't seem such a trial. Now, every morning and evening when I put on my gloves I smile and get to work, looking fancier than ever.

She Says

I'm a princess...no, seriously, I am...

I promise a first day of school blog in the coming days but until then a few from the, "Did she really just say that? department"

1. While outside swinging this evening, I discussed the day with Natalie:

Me: So did you have circle time at school today Natalie?

Natalie: Yes we did!

Me: What did you talk about at circle time?

Natalie: The weather.

Me: Oh, that's nice, anything else?

Natalie: (pause to think deeply about the question).. Other serious things...

I'm not sure if I should inform other parents that their children are sitting around at circle-time talking about weather, what little Joey had for dinner last night, and "other serious things".

2. Before dinner Natalie told Sara that her tushy was hurting. This generally means that she has some dry skin on her cheeks, so Sara dutifully applied a little Aquaphor, after which Natalie remarked:

"Mama, I like how you did that."

Sara was gratified to know that she is able to apply lotion to a dry tushy in a satisfactory manner.

3. At dinner this evening we were enjoying a lovely meal (I am the chef and I say it was lovely) when Natalie began to explain what her doll, which she now is calling "Baby Roo" after watching Piglet's Big Movie on Friday had for HER dinner, which had apparently occurred earlier that evening. Natalie proceeded to list everything we had eaten the previous three nights (from Sushi to re-fried beans) at which point Sara exclaimed "Wow, Baby Roo, is a big eater!" and Natalie responded:

"Yeah, and last but not least she had some salt and pepper to go on her lovely meal."

Sara and I promptly burst out laughing and Natalie joined in, having no idea why we were giggling.

Natalie always has a way of spicing up our evenings.

She Says

Getting ready to clear the room...

Recent conversation with Natalie:

Loud thbbbbbttttt noise

Natalie: Oh, excuse me!
Me: You are excused (resisting desire to smile)
Natalie: Dada, I tooted!
Me: Um, yes, you did. (barely holding in a chuckle)
Natalie: Do you know why I tooted?
Me: No, Natalie, why? (rapt with anticipation)
Natalie: Because something was tickling my tushy!
Me: I see... (excusing myself while I go to the next room and burst out laughing)

A Recipe for Soup

mmm, mmmm,..yehck!

Last night, while in the bath, Natalie asked Sara to tell a story. This is a favorite recent activity; having mommy or daddy make up a story, usually centered on our heroine who calls herself Emily, her friend Little Bear, and Lucy, her doll. Anyone who has read the Little Bear books will immediately recognize the cast...

Anyway, the main thrust of this particular vignette was that our heroes needed to make a soup. The reasons why they needed to make said soup were vague but a good storyteller lets the reader fill in unimportant plot details like motive...

So for those of you looking for a lovely Autumnal recipe I suggest "Emily's, Little Bear's and Lucy's Acorn Soup"

Add to large pot (which you shall never use again):

The ingredients are Natalie's, the notes are mine...

- 3 Spoonfuls of Mayonnaise (one may substitute Vegannaise if one is a hippie like Mama)
- 2 Cookies (preferably Chocolate Chip or Sugar but any cookie will do in a pinch)
- 3 cups Flour
- "A lot of Acorns" (Natalie explained "a lot" means 10)
- Chocolate, 1 Bar

Then Cook "A lot" and if your house isn't on fire or the neighbors haven't shown up to ask about the smell, enjoy...

She Says

Natalie poses on her "big-girl" bed.

Natalie has a little Sesame Street book called "Be Polite" and, as you may have gleamed from the previous blog post, Natalie enjoys reading books on the potty. So today while she climbed onto her potty-seat she asked very brightly, in her two-year-old broken syntax way, "Dada, Can I Be Polite, pleeeeaaase?!"

I smiled and got the book.

She Says

Natalie Marcia Says:

"Books are friends for while your on the potty."

Trouble Brewing

"I just love getting Dada in trouble!"

As has been previously discussed at length, my daughter is a super-baby genius, or perhaps now she would be better described as a super-toddler-genius, which in super-genius terms is a whole new level of geniuosity. She inhales words for breakfast, digests meaning for lunch, and then by dinner is ready to have a lengthy discussion about what she learned that day. This discussion usually involves her singing loudly at the table while we eat.

Her hunger for knowledge is unquenchable, and so, rather than let her exert extra energy in negative ways, like by chasing the cat, or making a mess, or plotting to overthrow the world, I divert her curiosity into learning new words, phrases, and long Wordsworth poems.

To be sure it is an exhausting and heroic task, one that often involves repeating new words 2,320 times before Natalie is satisfied that she can pronounce it properly, and which turns my brain into a lumpy mush by the time Sara returns home from work.

I generally enjoy this noble and necessary job of protecting humanity from a potentially lethal super-toddler genius but there are times when my efforts to teach Natalie about her surroundings backfire.

Witness a week or so ago.

Natalie and I were busy shopping for a small gathering at our house over Memorial day weekend. We busied ourselves with procuring all the necessary list items, Natalie gleefully chirping out directions for what I should buy from the shopping cart. Luckily for our guests I managed to sneak in something other than goldfish crackers, cheese, and cheerios.

Natalie remarked upon all the various vegetables and fruits we bought and yelled "Hiii!" to anyone who passed. There were innumerable, "Hiii, Ladies" and "Hiii, Mans" and most of the time she correctly guessed the person's gender...

We began to checkout, and I placed our veritable cornucopia of food on the belt and waited for, as Natalie would call her, the "Checkout lady." However, at this precise moment Natalie was not at all concerned with the "Checkout lady", no something much more interesting beckoned her eye from the conveyor belt.

Of all the many things that sat on the rubbery surface, of all the things she could have remarked upon, she began, quite near the top of her lungs,

"BEEEEEER, That's BEEEEEER" pointing to a case of brew.

"Yes, Natalie." I said rather sheepishly. But she continued...

"BEEEEEER, BEEEEER, that's Dada's BEEEER."

At this point I blushed and tried to point out a much more interesting and less embarrassing box of Cheerios. She wanted nothing to do with it.

"BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEER! Dada drinks BEEEEEEER." The checkout lady was laughing, the woman behind me chuckled, "I guess she knows what that is!", but I knew somewhere a child-services worker was lurking, or at least taking notes.

I hustled Natalie to the car, sped home, unpacked the groceries and while Natalie played in her pretend kitchen, cracked open a cold one.

"BEEEEEER" I said. "That's BEEEEEER."

Hey, I deserved it.




Editors Note: If any child-services workers are reading this blog, please know I didn't actually drink a beer until my wife got home...then I had five.