I know that Doodles is doing what every other kid who is almost three is doing, but it still cracks me up to no end. Things like, his new favorite show is Higglytown Heroes. He now mimics one of the characters who, with a thrust of her arm, says, “Aw, pickles!” I have to say, I like the “Aw, pickles” phase as it’s making life easier. For instance:
Pre-“Aw, pickles”
Me: Okay, time to put lotion [sunscreen] on.
Doodles: I don’t need lotion.
Me: Yes, you do. The rules are if you want to be [outside/swimming/riding your trike/whatever] you need to wear lotion.
Doodles: No! No! I don’t want to wear lotion! I don’t need lotion! I don’t like lotion!
Doodles takes off running; I chase; ugliness ensues over the lotion.
Post-“Aw, pickles” (from this afternoon)
Me: Okay, time to put lotion on.
Doodles: I don’t need lotion:
Me: Yes, you do. The rules are if you want to swim in J.’s pool, you need to wear lotion.
Doodles thinks a moment.
Doodles: Aw, pickles!
I put lotion on him with no further discussion.
Of course there are the out of nowhere conversations we have.
Doodles is giving a monologue. The words just keep coming and coming and coming.
Doodles: I then, I had to get a band-aid, because I had a boo-boo and I got the boo-boo when I was in the jungle and George was in the jungle but he didn’t have a boo so he didn’t have a band-aid…
I realize that Sweetie Pie has been quiet, so I wander a few feet to the next room to check on her.
Doodles places one hand on his hip, and says indignantly: Jenny, I was talking to you!
I won’t go into the long conversation we had at Drumlin Farm yesterday where we spent 20 minutes watching a cow get milked (cow, I feel for you!), which involved many tidbits like, “Is that a mommy cow? Where’s the daddy cow? Is she tied up so she won’t go away? What is that on her? Where’s the farmer? Will the cow go upstairs? Will the farmer go upstairs? [After seeing the cow pee] Look! The cow is having an accident! Does the cow have a p*enis? Does it have a ‘gina? What’s the cow doing now? Is she eating? Is she eating the hay?”
Wears me out. But, aw, pickles, do I love it.
