I love Lily. She's cute, she's funny, she smells good, and she mimics me. It's all pretty cool.
Sometimes, though...I tell you.
Tonight, we missed out on going to Beavers with the guys because of a pair of shoes. Lily wanted to wear her "These are pretty but much too big so I can't walk in them" green shoes and Mom said no. Once I decided that an evening out of the house wasn't worth the hassle, she switched it up to "I want it mine car! Go Beavers!" Fun.
Once things calmed down, she requested a ride on my shoulders. Sure thing. Once up there, she insisted on drinking a cup of apple juice. While sitting on my shoulders.
When it was time for bedtime snack, she skipped the regular cereal and fruit stage and went right to insisting on cake. My reply that we had none only made things worse.
Seriously, I don't know about her sometimes. She comes up with these ideas and these phrases and I have no idea what's going on in her little brain.
The other afternoon for example, she was throwing around the ceramic baby Jesus from the nativity scene. When I told her to go put it back she replied with "No. I LOVE Jesus".
On the weekend, she saw me gluing down a scrapbook page and spend 15 minutes straight wailing "I want it mine goo-ooo!". It doesn't look nearly as amusing in writing as it sounded in person, mainly because I can't adequately explain the repetitive two-tone "goo-oo" sound that still makes me giggle.
This evening, she asked who was signing on the radio. When I answered that it was Amanda Marshall, she insisted I was wrong because it was a woman and not a man. She promptly changed the name to Panda Marshall and was quite happy with that.
There really are no dull moments around here with the Lil on the loose. Every day she proves my theory that toddlers are people like the rest of us, only smaller. And faster. And insane. And indestructible. And unpredictable. But otherwise just like adults.
My Name is Not Megan
2 weeks ago