10 minutes in my life

Tom comes out of the bedroom from changing LG's diaper and tells me that LB now says "powder" (as in baby powder... can you see where this is going?), but she says it like "pallow". I've heard her say that, but still my mind lingers on the cuteness of every word she mispronounces... and then my mind switches over--where is she?

On our bed, vigorously shaking "pallow" all over our unmade bed. That is to say she got it on the sheets and the comforter, and probably on the clean laundry.

I don't yell, or say NO or BAD... instead I quietly tell her that powder goes on bum-bums, not beds. Very seriously she looks back at me, only to say "Ya. Pallow. Bed." I repeat the part about powder only going on bum-bums, and she replies: "Ya. Pallow. Bum Bum."

Dang skippy.

Tom says he'll clean it up and I, much relieved, head off to have some microwaved rice for dinner, and try to unwind for 10 seconds while catching up on Dooce. 6 of those seconds go by before LB is clamoring to be UP because Tom apparently got out the "ya-foo" to clean up the "pallow". And so my 10 seconds of peace now includes a toddler in my lap who now wants to share my rice, even though she didn't want HER rice and chicken 5 minutes ago.

We go back to the kitchen where I get my second course: cheese. She's seen Tom with his juice and asks for some. I make her some diluted juice and grab some cheese. She sees this and hands me the cup saying "no" and reaching for the cheese. So I give her my piece of cheese.

Sigh.

Now she's sharing yo-yo with Tom, he's spoon-feeding it to her... and she's insisting not only that the yo-yo be in a bowl ("yo-yo. bowl") before she would have any of it, but also that bowl has to be on the high chair ("yo-yo. down") in front of her. So of course Tom asked her if she wanted the yo-yo brought to her suite... along with her boots.