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A two minute break… it never fails.

railroad1Whenever I try to do anything, I can always trust that my 4 year-old daughter will be there to ask tons of questions. Most of the questions seem unrelated to me but I’m sure in her mind, it all makes sense.

It’s kind of like when the hummingbird carried a camera tripod 2 floors up, from the basement to the bedroom recently. We had no idea why she’d do that and it didn’t make any sense. But then I took a step back and looked at the tripod from her view.

After she talked about wanting to go camping, I realized she was using the camera tripod, in her pretend play, as a campfire.

I thought that was pretty clever of her.

Her: Mommy? MOMMY??

Me: In here!

Her: Mommy? What are you doing? Where’s my pink shirt with the stars? Hurry up, mommy… can you braid my hair? Where’s my brush? I can’t find a barrette.

MOMMY? Where did my brush go? Oh! I found my pink shirt. Mommy, I’m stuck! Help, Mommy, Help!

Me: Come here, then!

Her: *walks in with shirt stuck over head* I want to wear my pink shirt now.

Me: But you just changed 5 minutes ago.

Her: Please… just for a little bit. *brings up hand and puts 2 fingers a few inches a part*

Me: No, sweetie. Why don’t you save that for tomorrow.

Her: Please. Just a little bit?

Me *why does she have to be so damn cute?!* Okay, you can.

Her: Yay! Can you braid my hair now. No, I want a ponytail instead.

Me: Just give me a minute.

Her: But I REALLY need a ponytail now. Here’s my brush. Can I have two braids instead? I want to wear my purple barrette. I’m getting hungry. Can you get a snack for me mommy… please?

Me: Yes, just give me one minute.

Her: Okay… yay! Can I have goldfish? What’s tomorrow? When are we going to Target? What’s for dinner tonight? Do you know where my Cinderella dress is? I want to wear my purple headband. Have you seen it?

MOMMY…. I can’t find it. Where’s my purple headband?

Can we go bicycle? I want to ride across the railroad tracks. Can we, mom? Are Olivia and Jeremy home yet? I want to ride with Olivia. Can we go by their house?

Please help me put my Cinderella dress on.

Me: Okay, but put your shirt back on because the dress will be itchy.

Her: But I don’t want to wear that shirt anymore. It got a tiny bit of water on it. I’ll just wear my dress.

Me: I know you’ll need your shirt back on so let’s just do that before you put on the dress.

Her: I’ll be fine. *puts on dress* Thank you.

Mommy? Mom? My dress is itchy. Can you help me take it off?

I know. I’ll wear my shirt under it. Can we go now? Can I watch Peppa later? When is Saturday? Do I go to school tomorrow? Are you almost done?


Can I have some root beer? Just a little bit?


~the kind of conversation that usually takes place in the 2 minutes when I try to pee

*You’ve Changed

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And That’s Why Mommy’s Vagina Is Large

newborn-baby1I was such a doofus when I was pregnant and thought that if women have a vaginal birth, then they have the rest of their years to pee themselves whenever laughing, sneezing, and breathing. Then I had an emergency c-section and found that despite that, my bladder control is a lot to be desired.

This morning:

The hummingbird (age 3): Mommy, what’s this?

Me: That’s a pad.

Hummingbird: Why?  I want to wear it.

Me: Because mommy pees herself sometimes.

Hummingbird: Can I put one on?

Me: No sweetie, you don’t need that for a while.

Hummingbird: Why do you have them?

Me: I already told you, mommy pees herself sometimes.

Hummingbird: Why?

Me: Because a few years ago you were in mommy’s belly and after mommy had you, my vagina got large.

Hummingbird: Your bagina got large?

Me: Yep.

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