1. The way she says D is for Don Quixote, H is for "moi."
2. We go "see animals in the park." She ushers us into our bedroom, stopping in front of the cat at the foot of the bed, pointing out the sharp teeth on this wild tiger. Next stop, the giraffe, played by her stuffed elephant, which is sitting next to her stuffed giraffe.
This morning's safari featured snakes, grasshoppers, and spiders.
3. The way she governs her little entourage of dolls. She has taken on the role of educatrice to them, so once they're tucked in for naptime, she sits nearby and scribbles notes on their behaviour, appetite, and bowel movements.
4. She asks to watch her stupid Caillou Christmas movie en espanol, evidently tired of both the French and English versions. (I offered Spanish as an option one day and apparently it made an impression. Warning: Caillou's Spanish mommy can't sing — she makes me want to tear off my fingernails.)
(Can I get Caillou in Polish?)
5. The way she knows when I'm losing patience with her. She bats her eyelashes and makes kissy faces at me. It's my kryptonite. All stern disciplinary resolve dissolves into laughter.
6. She carries with her everywhere one of my itty-bitty book lites (though neither of the two contraptions I own actually goes by that trademarked name), with the unfortunate result that my attempts to read in bed are generally thwarted by spent batteries.
Saturday, March 11, 2006
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4 comments:
I am so lucky that my kids never liked Caillou because he annoys the crap out of me. I noticed the Caillou book in another post and laughed to myself but didn't comment.
My kids have a routine where they mimic an episode of Caillou. He is always whining about something and then the announcer says, "Caillou didn't understand. Of course, he's not all that bright." Then they laugh and laugh... There are many variations and we have much laughter around here at poor Caillou's expense!
My goodness, she sounds sweet.
Ack! That Caillou Christmas movie. The messages are good but, damn, I'd cut off my right arm sometimes to get away from it.
I guess it's just something they'll grow out of, huh? Right? I mean, D. will, won't she...?
Whenever she heads for the DVD cabinet now, I distract her with CDs.
Those instances described in your post are very cute, btw. I especially like the educatrice role that she has undertaken.
Three is a very, very cute age, isn't it? And maddening. What is it with kids and anything that lights up? C goes nuts for flashlights and runs the batteries down whenever she gets her hands on one. And my booklight suffered the same fate as yours. Alas.
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