“Oh my GOODNESS!”
“What?”
“Nothing, I’m just going potty.”

“Mama, why did you dress Koren up like a woman?”  (Just for the record, he was wearing shorts and a T-shirt)

“Oh my goodness, he’s fussing already???”

“Koren, if you’re sleepy then go to sleep.  Just suck on your hand, and if you don’t like it then spit it out.  SHHHHHH SHHHH SHHHHH!!!”

“Mama, this soup is really not good.  I don’t think I can even eat it.”

“Kaelin, why did you do that?”
“Because that’s the POINT, Daddo.”

“I’m going to put some water here for you so you don’t have to worry about it.”

(having a conversation with her toy) “Thank you for inviting me to your party.  What?  Thank you for inviting me to your party of the United States of America.  And to the republic for which it stands, one nation, under God, indivisible with liberty and justice for all.”

While speaking at a children’s hospital yesterday, Cindy McCain stated that Barrack Obama has “waged the dirtiest campaign in American history.”  She said she looked forward to seeing her husband clear the record at the debate, and-

Whoa, whoa, whoa, BACK THE TRUCK UP.  Obama is the one waging the dirty campaign?

Regardless of political leanings, I think we can all pause for a minute to fully absorb the hilarity of that statement.

*blink* *blink*  Ok, moving on…

In other totally important news, Koren has learned a new trick.  He can now pull the pacifier out of his mouth, waive it around, and put it back in.  This provides him with endless amusement until he drops the paci and the world pretty much crashes down around our ears.

He drops the paci a lot.

And for that reason, the jury is still out on whether this new trick should be lauded or cursed.

And on the Kaelin homefront, I would just like to say that my daughter says some pretty funny stuff when she’s not really awake.  Last night I heard her calling, and when I walked into her room we had this conversation:

Kaelin: I.. I … I … I need … I need… I need … (sometimes she has trouble getting the words out when she’s sleepy, so I’ll spare you the additional 12 times she said that) I need da pee on the phjvgch.
Mama: You need … to pee on the potty?
Kaelin: No, I need the pattern.
Mama: You need the pattern?
Kaelin: Yes.
Mama: What pattern?
Kaelin: The flag pattern.  I need the flag pattern.
Mama: …
Kaelin: I need the flag pattern.
Mama: Is… that something you did at school?
Kaelin: Yes.
Mama: I think you’re dreaming.  Why don’t you go back to sleep?
Kaelin: Ok.

Yesterday we were driving in the car and Kaelin was babbling in the back seat as usual, when she says, “Oh, hold on a minute.  I’m getting a text message.”

Daddo: You’re getting a … text message???
Kaelin: Yes.  You can read it if you want.

Ok, I don’t even get text messages.  I have officially been out-technologied by my 2-year-old.

When I picked Kaelin up from Parents’ Night Out tonight, she was using the popping-rolling-lawnmower-thingy that we all had as kids but can never come up with a sufficient name for.

When she saw me, she let me know that she had to finish the task at hand before meeting me at the door.  She then did a couple more sweeps with it as though it was a vacuum cleaner, and ran over to tell the teacher, “There you go.  I cleaned up all that poop for you.”

…Our little helper.

Jens just informed me that I was “so bitter” about the fact that our pets have suddenly, and seemingly without cause, decided our house is one giant toilet.  Ya think?

Today in Sunday School, Kaelin learned about the story of Adam and Eve and the apple, during which Kaelin spoke up in a rather worried voice, “You mean… I can’t … It’s bad to… So… We can’t eat apples?”

Kaelin is learning a bit about modesty, and is also treading on the brink of true gender awareness.  She is now familiar with the term “goodies” and its general meaning.  As in, getting out of the tub and running down the hall yelling, “Daddo!  I need some panties.  I don’t wanna show the boys my goodies!”

Today we were in Babies ‘R’ Us when she announced (rather loudly), “I wanna show off my goodies!”

“No, Kaelin, we don’t show our goodies.”

“Who CAN I show my goodies to?”

“Nobody. You don’t show your goodies to anybody.”

“But I wanna show my goodies now.”

…Evidently we have some more work to do on the modesty theme.

Parenting is a constantly educational experience.  For instance, this week we learned of the bossy and malicious nature of seemingly innocent inanimate objects, like THE FLOOR.

“This is my owie.”
“How did you get an owie?”
“I wanted to be up, but the floor wanted me to fall down.”
“And the floor won?”
“Yeah.”
“Bummer.”
“Yeah.”

And last night, Kaelin was sitting in my lap, tried to climb off the chair, and somehow ended sprawled on her back on the floor.

“Are you ok?”
“No.”
“Did you get hurt, or was that just scary?”
“I got hurt.”
“Can you show me where you got hurt?”
“On my arm.  I was trying to get down but the chair didn’t want me to and it went BAM.”

“Whew!  This apple juice sure is rich!  I don’t think I can drink anymore.”

(opening the English-Spanish translator that she thinks is a Bible)

Kaelin: And God said, “Bring me some money so I can buy candy at the mall.”

(opening the English-Spanish translation dictionary that she thinks is a Bible)
Kaelin: God says, ‘Ee-oh Ee-oh Ee-oh, I love you very very much.  And please bring me a banana.’

Jens usually does the breakfast thing for Kaelin because he’s got the morning shift while I try to catch up on some of the sleep I missed overnight.  But last night was a bad night for him, so I took over this morning to allow him a few extra hours of sleep.

I warmed a biscuit and doused it with honey but no butter, just like she likes it.  I peeled and de-yolked a boiled egg.  I poured some milk.  And I dumped some mixed berries onto her plate.

At that, she looks down at her berries and back up at me with one eyebrow raised.

“ONE strawberry?” she asks, with a tone that is less a question than a statement of disapproval.  A tone that says it’s a good thing you have some redeeming qualities woman, because you totally fail at breakfast.

“I wanna play on the computer.”
“It’s not time for the computer right now.  It’s bedtime.”

She looked at me and squared her shoulders.  And then with all the gusto of a sixteen-year-old in the prime of you-can’t-tell-me-what-to-do rebellion, she says, “Well I’m going to play on the computer anyway.”

Yeah.  That went over well. 

Suffice it to say she’s probably marked that off her list of “Things to Try When I Want My Way.”  Though I fully expect to see it surface again in another 10 years.