Conversations with (and about) V
She’s out to get me. And she’s slowing winning my husband on to her side…oh who am I kidding he’s been on her side since the moment she was born. Hell the moment she was conceived. They’re just actively ganging up on me now.
Several times yesterday we had an argument about whether or not she was arguing with me.
Me: ‘You’re arguing with me’
Her: ‘No I’m not’
Me: ‘That’s arguing’
Her: ‘No it’s not’
Hubby: ‘BAHAHAHAHAHA’
I often think we need another just to help even the odds, but with my luck things would end up being 3-1.
============================
To be filed under the ‘at least she’s cute’ category:
She’s found her first loophole. Well, maybe not her first, but the first glaring example I can remember. She’s realized that if she talks about a rule she can continue using the language the rule specifically bars.
On our drive yesterday she launched in to a several-minutes-long dissertation about how we don’t say ‘poo’, ‘poo’ is a bad word, ‘poop’ is something we don’t say, no more ‘poo’ talk. We don’t make up ‘poo’ songs…see where this is going? She talks about the rule and in doing so gets to say the word tens of times. This isn’t the first time, but I finally had to threaten consequences if there was anymore discussion of the ‘poo’ rules.
So what does she do? She moves on to the next rule.
The three year old cannot win dammit!
============================
I am in desperate need of a make-over, and nothing could have driven the point home more than the woman in the grocery store who asked if V was my grandchild. Seriously. And then I made the mistake of telling hubby. His reply? BAHAHAHAHAHA
My brother was slightly kinder (to my face) and exclaimed that she was obviously a nutter and V gets very upset every time hubby calls me grandma. Proving that indeed blood is thicker than water.
One day this blog will have a snazzy name 
I agree. Obviously a nutter. OR had her first grandchild at 29 and was trying to make herself feel better. 😉
I worked with a guy who was a grandfather at 34, so I know it’s technically possible, but I think it was most jarring because in my head I’m still 23.
Bahahaha. Except for the grandmother comment. I think Lulu’s still bitter about being asked that a few years ago so you can commiserate with her.
No way! Well that actually makes me feel better, because it backs up the nutty theory. She acts like a 12 year old for goodness sakes! If someone could think she was a grand…
When my younger sister was getting married, I was shopping for a dress and the saleslady, upon learning I needed a dress for a wedding, asked if I was the mother of the bride. STILL NOT OVER IT.
Since then I’ve been wondering if, when I’m out with my three year old, people think I am her grandmother. AYE CARUMBA.
Needless to say I am now dying my hair on a regular basis and wearing makeup. This is how botox injections happen to good people!
LOL. It’s true! And I’m way beyond pulling those grey hairs so bring on the ‘highlights!’
BAHAHAHAHA!
I mean, that really sucks 😉
Little girls love their daddies. I am not looking forward to that. To the point where I almost feel sorry for my mom.
Almost 😉
LOL. It’s so true. And he’s such a mushball. BUT, she’s also totally picking up his traits, through the genes too, so I’m really screwed.
Good god, what is wrong with people! The only explanation I have is that children make us OLD. Those grey hairs on my head? Um, they weren’t there 4 years ago. Neither were the lines in the corners of my eyes.
And… where do children learn that talking about poop is funny?
THANK YOU. I’ll take all of it!
As for the poop talk, I have no idea, but it’s always been a winner.
What else are you supposed to call it? Both my wife and I call it “poop”, and ask our son (trying to do a bit of potty training) “Do you need to go poo?”
I mean, if he was running around calling it sh**, that’s one thing… but poop seems pretty innocuous to me!
To answer the question, though: I think my son’s learning it from me. POOOOOOOOP!!!!
Hahaha. We’re working on context now. Sure poop or poo are fine when you’re going to the potty, or you need to. But when you’re just pretending to poop on the living room floor every 2 minutes? Or telling someone they smell like poop? Or sing a poop-poo-poopy-poo song? Not so much.
Our latest struggle is whatever. Try teaching the difference between, ‘we’ll do whatever you want’ and ‘whatEVER!’ In her black and white world I’ve said a ‘bad’ word by being accommodating *g*