Tiny 'Lizabeth Stories

Yesterday, Elizabeth and I went on an outing with someone we met at the library story hour.  (We went to a different library’s story hour and then to the park to play and have a picnic.)  Elizabeth has played with this little girl once before, at our house, and clearly remembered her.  On the way there, I asked her, “are you going to play with your friend Harmony?”  Elizabeth spent the rest of the ride chanting “Harm-y, Harm-y!”  And then, afterward, asked for more Harm-y all afternoon.

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Sometimes, when I go upstairs to grab something quickly, I lock the baby gate and leave Elizabeth downstairs.  She usually wails and shakes the gate, or just walks around yelling “MAMA, MAMA!”  This time, I told her to meet me at the balcony (we do that a lot, she’ll pause the crying to look at the magic of a parent a whole story above her) and I threw her the clean diaper I was about to put on her.  When I came back downstairs, thirty seconds later, I found an open diaper on the floor.  But wait, this is a green diaper, I threw down a blue diaper?  Elizabeth had taken off her current diaper and was on the floor, attempting to put on the clean one.  (She had opened it up and was trying to maneuver herself on top of it.)

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We bought blueberries for the first time when we went to the Farmer’s Market yesterday.  I don’t love blueberries personally, so when I buy fruit, I buy stuff that I like better.  But there are blueberries ALL OVER the Farmer’s Market.  (Obviously, it is blueberry season here in Georgia.  Also, peach season, if you were wondering.)  One place had a bowl of samples out, so I gave her one and she was intrigued.  So I bought a big bag full and gave her one to coax her back into her car seat.  (She wanted to “wak” home.)  She spent the rest of the car ride home putting her hand up and asking for “booberry!”

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Blueberry diapers are something, let me tell you.

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She sleeps and naps with baby dolls now.  She has five currently, Jelly (a doll from my childhood- it has a matching Peanut Butter doll, but we do not own a Peanut Butter), a Winnie the Pooh wearing a frog suit, a Winnie the Pooh wearing a bee suit, and two dolls that I made (badly).  They are named “Jel-wee”, “Fwog”, “BEE!”, “boo baby” (it’s blue), and “foower” (it’s made of flowered fabric).  She gets to pick which two (or three or four or five if it is one of THOSE days) she takes to bed with her.  When she’s really mad at me (because nap is late and she’s overtired), she shoves them away from her when I offer them and yells “NO”.  After the second or third shove, she repents, sadly says “baaaybeee”, and leans towards them.  Then she pats them on the back, apparently telling them that she’s sorry, she is mad at Mama, not at them.

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She still loves to get into the little dog’s crate and feed him his breakfast, one piece of kibble at a time. The little dog likes to kind of munch throughout the day, but he always eats his entire meal when it is fed by hand by a baby.  I don’t know if this is because he enjoys the hand feeding, or if he is afraid that she will eat it if he doesn’t.

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When she’s upset and I pick her up to calm her down, she immediately starts patting me on the back because she knows I am about to do the same to her.