Which Came First - The Chicken or The Nugget?

I know we have covered this territory before, but yesterday was the first time it really sunk in for Ana - the cute little white fluffy chicken on the farm is the same one that makes up the mushed chicken that is her nuggets.

Picture of a live chicken next to a picture of a plate of nuggets sparked the following discussion:

But we don't eat that chicken. We only eat the nugget chicken.

The nugget chicken is made up of that white chicken.

No... that's not the truth. You're just making up a pretend story.

It wouldn't be a very exciting one if I was...

Oh, but I don't want to eat the feathers.

No, Baby. The feathers aren't in there. They take them off and then they take only the chicken meat to make the nuggets (probably a wee bit of a lie there, but I wasn't getting into that).

Poor little Chicken! What does it's Mommy say? How do they make it dead?

Hey Ana! Was that the phone ringing? Maybe it's Nana calling to talk to you! If not, why don't we call Nana?!?

Back Scratching

Little kids are blissfully unaware of the "you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours" saying. When Scott or I scratch each other's back, the back scratch receiver makes ridiculous groans of ecstasy in a desperate attempt to please the back scratch giver so that he/she will keep it up for even longer. Ana doesn't even worry about things like encouragement: Mommy, scratch my back.

scratch for 4 minutes - seemed like a long time to me.

Hey! Why did you stop? Scratch more, please. You love to scratch my back. You really love it.

I'm thinking that approach wouldn't really motivate Scott. Maybe I'll try it anyway - shake things up a bit...

Hey, Scott - scratch my back. You know you love it! C'mon - more! You like to scratch my back. Keep going.

Trash Talking Part 2

Okay, so first it was the police officer, now it is the computerized checkout voice at H-E-B.

Took the Chick in with me to buy groceries. As never happens, we had less than 10 items, so I thought I would go through the self-checkout lane.

Please place your item in the bagging area.

Don't tell us what to do, you Bossy Lou!

Please remove your item from the bagging area and scan it again.

What you're saying doesn't make sense! Quit talking to me! Shhhh!

Please select your method of payment.

Why do you make us pay you all of our money?!? That's not kind!!

Thank you for shopping with us.

Goodbye! You need to be more quiet!


Given that I knew we weren't hurting any feelings, I let her go at it. I confess, it gave me a good laugh for the day!

The "A-Pad"

Ana has become a screen-a-holic. My mom recently got an i-Pad, and brave thing that she is, she lets Ana play with it every time they keep her overnight. Ana has taken to it like a fish to water and refers to it as her "A-Pad". <>She has her own folder of apps that she knows how to find; she knows how to navigate her way through the various apps; and she knows how to download new ones! That means she beats me in A-Pad knowledge and skills 3:0.

She wanted to show me her latest find yesterday when we came to pick her up - a Tinkerbell app that lets you watch a trailer for one of the Tinkerbell movies. It seemed frozen to me, so I started poking at it (I told you my skill level was high).

Mom! Stop what you're doing to the A-Pad! You have to let it load! Try a little patience!

Methinks she has learned a wee bit too much...

And Death Becomes Her?

Luckily Ana has lots of other friends her age that are curious about death right now, so I don't worry like I might. We have talked about what happens when we die, when animals die, where our bodies go, where our souls go, and all variations in between.

Apparently Ana is looking to get a bit more specific. She was talking about the days of the week with her sitter:


It's Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday.

And what day is a school day?

That's Tuesday and Thursday.

And what day do you come to play with me?

That's Wednesday and Friday.

And what's the day that you're going to die?

Hmmm.... hadn't really planned that one out...

What Is Up With Dora?!?

Is anyone other than me thrown off by the size of Dora's head? What is up with that thing? She looks like a textbook case of hydrocephalus. God bless her mother on the day of her birth.

Here is a count of things that Dora's head was larger than in the episode that I watched with Banana last night:

1. Her parents' torsos and their heads put together

2. A boulder

3. Half of an alligator

4. A window

5. A baby leopard

Surely this can't be good.

Nightmares

On Monday Ana asked me what a nightmare was, so I told her it was like a bad dream but even scarier. She seemed to understand.

Tuesday morning I asked her my usual question - How did you sleep?

Not good! You told me about nightmares so now I had one!

Oops... who knew that's all it took?

Trash Talkin' to the Po-Lice

Saturday was not a very stellar day for the girls of this family. I have been fighting a stomach thing off and on - more on than off. When I do feel like I could eat something, it is only a very small list of things that appeals. Don't ask me why, but one of those is a Taco Bell bean burrito, minus the sauce. I have not been to Taco Bell in about 15 years. In the last week, I have been about 3 times.

So, Saturday we go to a Glamour Girl birthday party, have lots of fun, and are heading home wiped. All I can think is that I need to get myself a bean burrito because I'm having a lull in the yucky feeling. First low point of the day: I pull into the drive through and Ana yells out, Oh no! Why are we going here AGAIN? I'm tired of going here!!!

My shame propels me through the drive through and back on to the road in record time. Unwrapped burrito in my lap, I am wasting no opportunity in seizing the eating moment. Too late. I start to feel bad again. Now I am in a rush to get home. In a rush to get home + downhill with no cars around = not paying attention to my speed, AT ALL.

Well, that's okay, because the police officer was paying attention to it for me. Lights on, siren, the works.

I am not a crier when I get a ticket, don't do it, but this time the crumminess of my situation meant that I burst into tears the moment he approached my window. Here I am, eating my 6th bean burrito of the week, half of it still on my lap, probably lardy-bean stuff on my face, I'm sick, I just want to get home to be taken care of by Scott, and now I'm getting a ticket.

My upsetness kicked Ana into 4.5 year old protectiveness mode and while I'm trying to explain my sad situation to the cop, you can hear shouting in the background:

I'm mad at you for what you are doing! That is not a kind thing to do! You should not give people tickets! You are not a kind person! You are not acting kindly! Do not give us a ticket! You are not doing a good thing!

What a pair we made.

I actually had to break my story to the cop to tell Ana to tone it down because she needed to remember that it was my fault and the policeman was just doing his job. We must not have made a very good impression because I now have 10 days in which to call the court.

Good times.

Patient's Right To Privacy

Apparently Ana took the Patient's Right to Privacy document at her speech therapists office a little too seriously. She forgot to pay attention to the part that said it doesn't apply to minors.

She was dragging a bit on Thursday morning, but I just assumed that it was a slow starting day. I asked her if she slept well and she said, Yes! I slept like an angel! Not the case. I found out the true story after she finished up her speech appointment later in the morning.

Speech therapist (ST) to me: So, I hear Ana didn't sleep very well last night?

Me: What? That's not the story I heard.

ST: Oh! She said that she woke up in the night and started playing in her bed. But, she played very quietly so that her Mommy wouldn't know that she was playing because she is not supposed to do that at night. She said she played until she saw the sun and could get out of bed.

The little sneak! At least she still rats herself out every time...

Green Day

More evidence that I may be a negative influence on Ana. I have, and have always had, serious trouble with my nouns. I have to ask Scott what things are called all of the time and I have no memory for names of movies, songs, people, etc.

My girl is not so hot with her nouns either, apparently. She was an enormous fan of St. Patty's yesterday and could not stop talking about it at bedtime:

I loved Green Day!!!! (St. Patrick's Day)

I loved the green food (pancakes with green syrup) and green drink (green orange juice)!

I loved going to watch that Italian dancing (Irish dancing)!

And my favorite was the stories about those gnomes... no... what were those little green guys called that you were talking about all the day? (leprechauns)

At least she didn't call me Daddy when I kissed her goodnight...

Scramble

I do not know what they are teaching my daughter at school. I love the place. I love the break. But, frankly, I am questioning the academics ( ;-) ):

Mommy, what does scramble mean?

Scramble? Well, it's when you mix something around. Like Mommy mixes eggs around to make scrambled eggs.

No it doesn't! It means you are making a cake. SCRAMBLE! (makes a goofy face and waves her arms around)


Flash forward to family dinner that night...

Ana, do you want to join the conversation? Is there something you would like to talk about?

Yes, SCRAMBLE! And you, SCRAMBLE! And you, SCRAMBLE! And what did the girl in the book say to the other girl? SCRAMBLE! SCRAMBLE! SCRAMBLE! (wicked laugh)

Okay, Ana, your turn is done.

Easter Pipe Dreams

Ana is a lover of holidays like her mother. Unlike her mother who is a stickler for tradition, Ana likes to mix things up a bit:

The Easter Bunny will bring you some little toys and some candy in your Easter basket. He will also hide the eggs that you dye so that you can hunt for them.

Yes, and he will bring me the things on my list.

What list? You're thinking of Santa Claus. We don't give the Easter Bunny a list. He just surprises us with little toys and candy.

No, that's not how it goes. You make a list of what you want and he puts it in the basket.

Sorry, Sweetie. But he really doesn't. That's only Santa Claus.

No, we will see. We will see what's in my basket.

Hopefully Ana's horrible long-term memory will counterbalance her overactive imagination or we will have one disappointed, chocolate-covered little girl on Easter morning!

Door Locker

Ana is the anti-thief. She actually goes in places and locks up after everyone. She locked the door at the top of Nana's stairs. Not such a problem because the lock is easily popped.

Not so the lock on Ana's door. Personally I think it was a plot. We were in a rush to get her to an appointment, to which she had to bring a lunch full of "detective foods" - new foods for her to try (a.k.a. stuff she was probably not going to like).

The lunch was in her room. I was outside of her room. Diabolical plan coupled with face of innocence = lock the door on the way out of the room.

Ana's new lunch = Chik fil A

Ana: 5,001 Mommy: 0

Let's Play The Quiet Game

Our embarrass Mommy/ offend others count has been unusually high the last few days. I think I will now suggest that we play The Quiet Game every moment that we are out in public - we can't speak again until we are back in the car - that is how traumatized I am.

At Jason's Deli: (Ana has baby on the brain because most of her classmates have or recently had younger siblings)

Mommy! Does that lady have a baby in there! (Super loud, no one missed it - TRUST ME)

(whispering) No Baby, she doesn't. Some people's tummies just look like that.

No! I know she has a baby in there! Her tummy is too big!



In the Stein Mart check out line - referencing the cashier right in front of our faces:

Mommy! Is that a boy or a girl?

She's a girl, Sweetie. See her long eye lashes and pretty smile? (I was grasping at straws, People)

Yes, but why does she have a mustache?

Prisoner of War

God love him - Cooper the dog was trapped for hours in our bathroom yesterday while Ana was at school. He is a sorry excuse for a pooch sometimes, and therefore I did not put him outside in the wonderful fresh air when I went to make the school run. I did, though, think that he had the full run of the house. Not so much.

Apparently after Ana did the you-have-to-go-potty-before-we-leave-I-don't-care-if-you-think-you-don't-have-to-go stop before we left, she thought he would have more fun in the bathroom - or at least this is what she told me after he was finally freed. So, he was locked in. Not so bad in and of itself, but he also had to suffer the indignity of wearing a pink feather boa the entire time.

He got an extra treat.

An Unexpected Swim

If you climb into the bathtub to making washing your child's hair easier, don't sit on the side of the tub to watch her when you are done. If you are like me you will say, "Wouldn't it be funny if Mommy accidentally fell in?" and then you will promptly accidentally fall in.

Then, you won't be able to enjoy the moment by laughing at yourself because you will be too busy arguing with your child that just because you said that right before you fell in, it does not mean that your fall could not have been an accident.

Finally, if you are like me, you will be too much of a ninny to get out of the tub because you know how cold you will be with wet clothes plastered to your body, so you will stay in the tub playing the part of Ariel's father until you determine that if you don't get out of the tub soon, the prune look just might become permanent.

Just a little advice...

Boy Crazy

I don't know what I'm going to do with my child. She is only 4 1/2 and she is already boy crazy. No, I guess I should say male crazy. Our latest experiences:

Seeing a guy in a suit walking across the grocery store parking lot:

Oooh! He's fancy! I want to marry him!

Seeing the look on my face and remembering our 50 billion conversations about this very topic, she added - When I'm 30 and after we go on lots of dates to see if he's kind and smart and funny.


Seeing a 9 year old kid in the hallway of the doctor's office building yesterday:

Oooh! He looks great! I'm gonna marry him. Ooooooh!

Needless to say the boy melted into a puddle of red...


Talking to her about her cousin Ethan and how he's growing up so much:

Oooh! Is he getting big enough for me to marry? I'm gonna marry him!!!!

Next on the lecture list - the inappropriateness of marrying family...

Hell Is Sounding Mighty Attractive...

There is a cool tourist attraction about 30 minutes north of Austin, in Georgetown, called Inner Space Caverns. You can take an hour long tour of some incredible caverns that were discovered when the TX Highway Department tried to build a highway and couldn't figure out why they kept losing drillbits. Turns out it was because there were miles of caves, rock formations, and natural springs just below the spot where they were drilling.

Ana was fascinated with the tour and all was going well until the ever-so-informative-tour guide started telling us about the animals that *used* to live in the caverns. They don't live there anymore because at one point there was an earthquake, which knocked down a ton of rocks and also dropped all of the animals to their shattering deaths.

If you have read this blog much, you know that Ana is a bleeding heart like her mother. We save worms, People. Needless to say, this did a number on her little psyche. For the entire drive home I had to re-enact the death of the animals through story form. She also said that we probably shouldn't tell Daddy about the animals, because it might break his heart. We then had a little conversation with God about it.

Oh Heavenly God? (she's getting more sophisticated in her Heavenly speech)

Yes, My Child?

Why did the animals have to die?

It's part of nature, My Child. Sometimes those things happen.

What did you do with their fur?

I turned it back into the Earth.

What did you do then?

I took their little souls up to Heaven so that I could keep them safe with me.

Oh, that's kind of you to do. Did you give them ice cream and let them watch Mary Poppins?


Apparently this is what Heaven looks like - it is not streets paved with gold, it is free Baskin Robbins and a Mary Poppins movie marathon. God help us...

The P.C. Police

A 4.5 year old is a tough person to be around. You're not cut much slack, they have a memory like an elephant, and they love the concept of rules. We have mostly been trained, but not so poor Auntie Nina who doesn't typically hang out with people shorter than her waist. Our car ride on Saturday was a lesson in what you are allowed and are not allowed to say.

Have you seen that commercial? It's so stupid!

Ooooooh! She said stupid! Why would you say that? That is not good to say!

Oh, you're right. Sorry.


That one guy at work was so mean. Remember him?

Oooooh! You can't call someone mean. They can do something mean, but you can't call them a name. Why would you do that?

Oh, you're right. Sorry. I think I should just keep my mouth shut.

Auntie Nina Is The Best

We have a friend visiting us from Pittsburgh, who Ana calls Auntie Nina. She is just as besotted with Auntie Nina as she was when she first met A.N. and discovered her massive closet of shoes.

It was a regular old love fest this morning as Ana dressed A.N. for a pretend wedding. When A.N. went downstairs to take her shower Ana went on and on about how great her A.N. is:

She is the best!
She is just wonderful!
She is fancy and beautiful!
She is so lovely!
She is grottotto!
She is meleka!
She is just malee malee malee!

You know you have hit the big time when you are malee malee malee...

No Bubbles or Trixie Here...

Ana has apparently inherited my terrible naming gene. I had no creativity in the naming department as a child, and she is showing the same bent. For example, I had puppy... the puppy. Bearie... the bear. Uni... the unicorn. Lambie... the lamb. And I could go on, but I won't.

Ana, what did you name your little dinosaur that you hatched at school?
Sela.


Ana, go get that Barbie that we got at the garage sale.
That's not Barbie! That's Sela Barbie.


Mom, have you seen Sela?
Which Sela? Sela the bunny? Sela the kitty? Sela the Barbie? Sela the fairy doll? Sela the ballerina? Sela the dinosaur? Which Sela?
No! Not that Sela! The other Sela!

It Starts Early....

If it weren't for the fact that we adore this boy more than words can say, I think Scott would have been heading out to buy his first shotgun...

Show & Tell

Well, for all of the discussion surrounding Show and Tell (reference the dead bird suggestion from Ana), I was totally surprised to realize that I had missed it completely. I thought that it would be held the last Thursday of every month, but no it is every Thursday.

Luckily I am somewhat paranoid about being on time to pick Ana up and found myself there 10 minutes before class let our. Another mom was waiting outside the classroom because she had sat in on Show and Tell when it was her son's turn. I peeked in the door and realized that Ana hadn't been passed up yet, so I made a mad dash for the car to find something suitable. Luckily there were no dead birds in the car, but we did have a ballet book.

I ran back and triumphantly waved my find at the other mom as I tried to sneak in as quietly as possible. She called out to me - I'm impressed that you had anything in your car! This was almost as shocking as missing S&T after talking about it ad nauseum. Not have something in my car? Have you seen my car? I could feed an army for a week on the cheddar bunny remnants found on my car floor alone. Empty shelves at Toys 'R Us? I can restock them for you! A fact that I am not proud of, mind you.

Ana looked relieved to have something to share and I settled in to watch the proceedings. After what I saw last Thursday, I'm thinking that I'm going to try to make it to S&T as often as possible - it is waaay cheaper than trying to catch a comedy flick at the movies for a good laugh. It is also a more reliable form of entertainment. The selections that I was privileged to see (and questions from the children):

A potted plant. Nothing of significance about it. No story behind it. Just a potted plant. Most notable question: Does it sleep in your bed with you?

A ziploc bag with a toothbrush and toothpaste. I was seriously impressed. Further impressed when the answer to the question How many times do you brush your teeth was Three - morning, after lunch, and before bed. The other children were clearly equally as impressed because they made her repeat that fact 4 times - Are you sure you brush after lunch? I don't think that you do!

A headless action figure. I didn't like his head, so I took it off and now he's my favorite. Most notable question: Do you still play with his head?

Ana has already picked out her S&T item for this Thursday. Luckily she seems to be getting the idea and has picked out a purse. Whew!