Tuesday, December 27, 2011


Rosie was banging on her toys, so I hushed her.  She paused momentarily to ask, "Who's sleeping?"

Wednesday, December 21, 2011

Al rescate

Rosie heard her brother crying in the other room, and with a concerned look on her face she ran over to me and said, "That's my brother!  We have to go rescue him!  We're coming, buddy!"  And she ran to his rescue.

Friday, December 16, 2011

O Christmas Tree

Husband put up the Christmas tree on Wednesday night, and last night he put the lights on it.  When Rosie saw the tree this morning, she did her tippy-toe dance, gracefully gestured to the tree and exclaimed, "Oh, it's beautiful!  Isn't it pretty?  Look at all the colors."

An hour or so later, I found her "collecting" the plastic bulb covers from the tree.

Saturday, December 10, 2011

Naptime nuisance

It had been more than an hour since I took both Rosie and her brother upstairs for a nap, yet when I turned off  the shower, I heard Zack squealing with delight.  I knew Rosie had been in his room.  I yelled up the stairs for her to close her brother's door and to get in bed, and she answered, "Okay, Mom."  She closed his door and went back into her room.  He was still making some fussy noises, but she was quiet, maybe asleep.

Not ten minutes later, I hear Rosie shaking the gate at the top of the steps.  Then she shouts, "Mom, I look like Lilo!" (as in Disney's Lilo & Stitch).  I knew exactly what she had done.  She took off her clothes and donned her favorite skirt -- fresh from the hamper.  In her mind, she looked like a little Hawaiian hula dancer.

Monday, December 5, 2011

Disastrous Dinner

Tonight we made soup for dinner.  I say "we" because anytime I am near the stove or the counter, Rosie has to drag her stool over because she wants to help.  Not that she did anything this time.  She hardly stirred the pot.  And when I say that I "made" soup, I mean I actually made it, as opposed to opening up a can of Progresso and throwing it in the microwave.

The soup was poured into bowls and ready to go to the table.  I went into the dining room to clear off the table when I heard a thump followed a split-second later by Rosie tears.  I knew exactly what had happened -- she tried to grab one of the bowls from the counter but the bowl was hot when she touched it, so she jerked back, spilling it all over the counter and (of course) even splashing herself in the eye.  (Yes, she's okay).

A minor meltdown then occurred because she needed a fresh shirt, which she thought meant a whole new ensemble an hour before her bath.  Sorry, kid.

Ah, finally we can sit down at the table and have dinner.  Rosie's never had soup before, but she loves dip, so I showed her how she could dip pieces of her bread in her soup.  She put the whole piece in her soup bowl.  This made her upset then because her bread is "dirty," so she needs a napkin for it.  I thought she wanted a napkin to put the bread on.  No.  She wanted a napkin to wipe off the bread.

I went back in the kitchen to get my own soup, and when I came back there was something else in her soup bowl.  Her napkin.  At least now I know how absorbent Bounty napkins are (A+, by the way).

When I finally sit down myself, I show Rosie how to eat the soup with her spoon.  Great!  She puts the spoon in her soup, takes a sip... and does a long, grotesque shudder.  "I don't like soup."