It's full-on Beatlemania in our house. Well, for the toddlers. Big Man's been playing a lot of the Beatles for Dani and Tori. And Dani
wants to torture me is happily singing the songs. It's pretty adorable to here her version of things. Like, "It's been a hard day and night, and I've been working like a dog." It's really pretty cute. And, she's Paul, Tori's Ringo, Big Man is George, and I'm John, apparently. Tommy, he's Pete Best or something, but he can hum the tunes too.
It's been a week of interesting Dani-isms.
Tonight was the one that made me realize
that my daughter knows how to completely maniuplate me I've been working a bit too much, "Mommy, I had a bad dream last night. You went to work and never came home again. Ever. It was really scary."
The other night we were watching a bedtime show, and Dani informs me, "Mommy, that's a Sphynx. Those are with the pyramids in Egypt." After I scooped my jaw off of the floor, I gave her a hug and told her she was a smart little girl. She replied, "I'm smart, because I have a smart family."
She's been really into letting us know just how smart she is lately. Two nights ago at dinner, she asked me about people who hunt cavemen, and whether they would hunt us too. After a brief explanation of there being no cavemen presently, she tells me, "Mommy, I'm smart. I know everything. Well, maybe not everything. But a lot."
We took a potty break where I was informed that, "Mommy, my poop is bigger than the universe."
And later the same evening, when Dani was again professing her wisdom, I talked to her about it. I told her that it was wonderful that she is so smart, but that she also needs to be humble. That when she goes to pre-k in the fall, there will be kids who don't know how to say the alphabet, much less identify the letters and sounds, that some won't know their colors, that she will probably know more things than many of the other children. We talked about how everyone has different skills, and knows different things, and that she needs to remember that everyone has to learn together, even if it means going a little more slowly than she would like to. She replied, "Mommy, if they don't know things that I do, can I help teach them?"
And we went to the park, and Tori and Tommy were adorable and all those good things too. Tommy can now climb up and down the stairs (and my lower back thanks him for that). Tori is flirting with being potty trained, and all is well.
I went for an annual physical, and to my surprise, I'm doing okay. Like off the charts good. Literally, when the doc was reviewing my blood work, he was commenting that it's incredibly rare to have the good cholesterol number higher than the bad (which mine was, with a rockin' low 144 total cholesterol) and that the labs were great. My blood pressure is amazing, and apparently I'm going to live another year. Literally he was so nice about it--I was like, hey doc, do you think they mixed up the vials? I'm glad to know I'm so healthy for being a fat sedentary slug. I asked him if that meant I could grab a whopper on the way back to work, and he said it was fine. I'm guessing that somewhere, some poor, fit soul, is being told by their doc that they have the cholesterol and organ function of a nearly 40, overweight, overstressed mom of 3.