"My eye wants to watch a movie"

Quickly as Jordan and friend seem to be making popcorn and without supervision, there is likely to be not only an excess of salt but popcorn kernels galore on my living room floor.
So. I'll make this quick.

Sedona has taken to personifying her body parts as they have very specific needs and requests. She came to me the other day and said calmy and in a regular voice, "Mommy, my eye want watch movie." I said, "Oh really?"

And she replied, with small squeaky comedic voice and fingers plucking and pinching eyelid, "my want watch movie"
regular voice - "see?"
Here apparent eye's voice - "my want watch movie"

This happened again the following day when her knee wasn't sleepy. She couldn't possibly take a nap when her knee wouldn't stop shouting things like (again in the weird squeking, not Sedona talking voice), "MY NOT TIRED! MY NOT SLEEP RIGHT NOW!"
regular voice - "See? My can't go sleep. My knee not tired. My just sleep all day smorning"

Remind to follow up on the "all day smorning" trend in my next post.


Is anyone still reading? If so - please leave a comment or a threat or something. I fear I've let you all down taking absurd leaves of absence here. Months without a post makes for restless and eventually absent readers.

Says ABC POOP!

We've always tried to encourage our children to read. We keep books by beds, in kitchen, and always in the car, hoping that if easily accessible, books will be a first choice of leisurely activity. Sedona has a particular affection for books with flaps that she can open and close to discover all kind of things beneath. On such book is Little People Farm book that she enjoys reading in the car.

A few weeks ago (yes I am a bit delayed in this posting) you were carefully examining the pig on a page about opposites. The pig is standing near the clothesline where freshly washed white sheets are hanging. The pig is very clean. You open the flap and suddenly the pig has made a mess of himself and the laundry by wallowing happily in a mud puddle. The pig is dirty.

Well, Sedona insisted that the pig had pooped. "Oh, Mommy! Look! That pig poop."

I gently corrected, with a smile, "That isn't poop, Sedona. That is mud. The pig is dirty playing in the mud. See? Clean and dirty."

She wouldn't hear of it.
Arguing persistently for close to 2 minutes (which, as some of you may know is a VERY long time in 3yr old land) she kept laughing and saying "Noooo . . . him poop. poopy pig" and the like.

Finally, exasperated by unwillingness to agree, she pointed one little finger close to the page, and moved her face in close to examine it all more closely.

I thought, perhaps, you about to concede.
Wrong.

"See? Says A-B-C-POOP(and this last little bit was yelled)"
and again.
"My read it to you Mommy. Says A-B-C- POOP!" and again, emphasizing the "POOP" as if to make certain I understood once and for all. I mean, who can argue with what is committed to print? If the book says it is poop, clearly, it is.