The thing about my writing a blog is this: I write pretty much exactly like I speak minus some 'you know's, like's, and seriously's'. So, if you know me personally or have talked to me a couple of times, I think my entries come across a little differently than if you've never met me. My blog is waaaay funnier if you know me, right Marci? ;)
I needed to say that before I told this story, because while I hope it will come across as funny as it was when it happened, it might not.
Lately, S has been really into acting like a baby. She wants to be carried like a baby, she wants to wear diapers (as if!), she's reverting to some baby talk/babble, and a few other things that are probably a perfectly normal phase. T went through this to a mild extent around this age, but S had just been born, so I don't know if this is a normal phase for all kids or if I need to take S to the pediatrician and try not to sound insane when I explain my concerns.
We have been letting S wear pull ups at night. It's part compromise, part sanity saver, part eco friendly effort. I swear, this kid will pee in her pants on purpose, especially if she's mad. I have no desire to wash her sheets and comforter every morning. And this is where it gets interesting - she wears a pull up, she wakes up dry. She wears panties, she wets the bed about half the time. So we let her wear pull ups for a bit and then she started wanting to wear them during the day.
So she is, today, on her last pull up. Bye bye baby behavior? I sure hope so.
While we were in North Carolina, my brother, his wife, and their two kids came over to Dad and Susan's for Christmas. Their kids are two and four months old, so being that near an actual baby sent S into baby overdrive.
As Memphis (the four month old) was sitting on Dad's lap and my brother was feeding him, S was flailing about and trying to redirect attention towards her by....you guessed it...acting like a baby. My brother, who was both amused and annoyed (have I mentioned how LOUD S can be?), told her at some point that if she continued to act like a baby, he'd feed her like one. S, being three, didn't pick up on the fact that he meant actually feed her baby food, so she continued to act like a baby.
My brother walked over, said, "Okay, baby, open up" and it was at that very second that S got what he meant. Unfortunately for S, she opened her mouth wide to say "Nooooooooo" and my brother put a tiny bit of baby food in her mouth.
You would have thought that he just fed her poison. She gasped and spluttered and freaked out. None of it, by the way, was done as a baby. It was done as a very pissed off three year old. And folks? She. was. not. amused.
Oh, but me? I was amused. Be careful what you wish for and blah, blah, blah....oh, but this was a tiny little dose of poetic justice. I laughed until I couldn't breathe. I laughed so hard no sound was happening. I laughed so hard I cried. I call it my Julia Roberts turns into a hyena laugh. Oh, and I also laughed so hard I snorted. Hours later, when I was trying to get the kids to sleep I thought about it and started to giggle. I was giggling silently, but was giggling so hard that the bed shook. This made T laugh too. But S? Still apparently traumatized from the taste of strained peas, S announced that we needed to "stop laffffffffing at meeeeeeee" and went to go sleep on the couch.
Even now, I'm wiping tears from my eyes just writing about this and remembering the look of shock, horror, and disgust S produced when this happened.
If you feel the need, judge away. If you'd been there? You would have laughed too.