Not supposed to say

Ever since she was potty trained, Sarah has been very free and open about her actions in the toilet and the results thereof: "Mommy, I made...three poopies! Two little and one big." Our response has historically been to provide a brief acknowledgement and encourage her to wash up.

As the time for kindergarten drew near, it began to dawn on us that if we did not provide some correction, she would soon be announcing the details of her lavatorial experiences to her teacher and perhaps the entire class. So Shannon gave her instructions recently to be more discreet; specifically, she should not tell people what she produced during her potty break. This is now the rule at home too.

So yesterday, she went upstairs to visit the toilet. After a while, she called downstairs to me, "Daddy, I went to the potty and I made..." Then a pause as she considered the new rule. "In my head I am thinking 'poopies' but I'm not supposed to say it," she finished.

favorite animal

Today I was doing a get-to-know-you page for Sarah's kindergarten. I asked Sarah what her favorite animal was. "Pigs. Because they make hot dogs and hot dogs are my favorite food." Hmmm, I guess that works.

webs

This morning Sarah was sitting in the office while Alan got ready for work. She saw the word search and said, "S, E, A, R, C, H. That's spelling like Sarah." Alan agreed and told her it was the word "search" and that it meant to look for something. She read further, "Search the web. That's silly. You can't search the web. Only spiders can do that!"
So I guess I'm a spider.

a funny think

Today at lunch Sarah started giggling. I asked her what she was laughing at and she replied, "I'm laughing because I'm having a funny think."

if you could save time in a bottle...

Me: "Do you want me to clean up doggy poops?"
Alan: "That would save me time." (He is going to mow the lawn.)
Sarah: "You can't save time, ha ha!"

that's disgusting

Sarah just came into the office to find Alan examining his toes. Sarah asked, "What are you doing Daddy?" "Looking at my feet." To which she replied, "That's disgusting."

a fishy tale

Yesterday we had salmon for dinner. Alan said, "That fish smells good." Sarah said, "I think the fish smells good too, but the fish does not think so."

I suppose the smell of your own flesh cooking wouldn't smell that good.

just too tired

Last night as we were going to bed I heard Sarah saying something I couldn't make out so I went into her room to see what she needed. I asked her if she wanted me to get her down so she could go to the bathroom and she sort of said yes so I pulled her out of her bed and helped her get to the bathroom where she dutifully went. After she was done she went back into her room and about 2 feet from her bed she just suddenly sat down. I stopped right behind her and after a couple of seconds she laid down on the floor and was clearly sound asleep. Laughing I went back to get Alan and he lifted her up and put her back in her own bed. Clearly climbing up to the top bunk was just too much work for a good night's sleep.

playing dead

I could hear Sarah talking in her room and so I asked her what she was doing. She said,"I'm playing dead." (Imagine me with a blank confused look.) All I could say was "what?" Sarah repeated, "I'm playing dead. I'm pretending to be dead and the beds in my room are clouds and you are the little child." And you thought only possoms could play this game.

a bad think

Today for some unknown reason Sarah said, "Mommy I'm having a bad think." Unsure of what she was thinking I said, "I'm sorry Sarah. Why don't you change it to a good thought." She responded, "I will say a prayer to Heavenly Father. I will not say a voice prayer, I will say a prayer in my head." And she did. And that was the end of the bad think.

One one thing at a time

While we were kneeling down for family prayer this morning I said I had a doctor's appointment today and Sarah asked if she could go. I said yes at which point she said she didn't want to go. Naturally I then asked why she had asked to go if she didn't want to go in the first place. Alan, who was late for work, suggested she think about it and asked if she would like to say the family prayer. Sarah responded that she can't think and talk at the same time and couldn't possibly say the prayer today.

thinking

Today Sarah tapped Alyssa's temple and said, "I'm helping her think."

I wish someone would help me think.

Vox purpli

I was driving the girls home after visiting Shannon and Alyssa in the hospital today. Sarah apparently had been working out her best shot at the Random Question of the Day, because she suddenly queried, "Daddy, what color is your voice?"

I wasn't sure I heard that right, but upon my request she repeated the question. Now, I've learned from experience a bit about how to respond to questions that don't seem to be founded on aspects of my daily reality: I acknowledge the question and then return it. It often helps to clarify exactly what the person had in mind when they asked. So, in this case I responded, "That's a good question Sarah; I'm not sure I've thought about that before. What color do you think your voice is?"

"Well, I think it's kind of yellowish."

So I guess she did mean to ask what the color of my voice was. "I suppose my voice is probably dark blue...or dark green. Probably dark green," I said. "What color do you think Mommy's voice is?"

"Pink. And Emmie's is brown."

So, sorry, Shannon, we're mostly a warm-color family.

Last night at dinner...

After a thousand or more questions, many of which had obvious or no answers available (like why does Emmie like milk, why are you setting the table, and when are we going to bring Alyssa home) Alan told Sarah that we would not answer any more questions until after dinner. She turned to him and said, "But Honey, if I don't ask any more questions my body will get angry."

Ahhh, so that's why they ask questions. It's a method of anger management. Someone should get their PHD on this.

err... whoops

Sarah's mommy and daddy have communication problems.

Bunnies and carrots

Mommy was explaining to Emmie that the reddish-orange things in her soup were carrots, not tomatoes, when Sarah piped up with an observation. "Bunnies make carrots for us to eat, huh?" Er, no, Sarah, it's the other way around: Carrots make bunnies for us to eat. Make sure you understand that by the time you start school so you can impress your friends with your knowledge.

where carrots come from

Last night at dinner Sarah announced, "Bunnies make carrots for us to eat." Apparently she missed the primary lesson on where carrots come from and we have failed as parents.

Sarah's latest

Sarah's latest accomplishment is to be able to read words with the silent "e" on the end. Let me specify that it must be words that follow the silent "e" rule. Words like "some" don't count. She has also learned to use a number line to subtract numbers and can add small sums without problems. From reading with us during family scriptures she has learned "and it came to pass that" and also "Spirit", "Lord", and "wilderness".
Sarah likes to ask questions to things she already knows the answer to. This drives her mother crazy sometimes. Today she asked, "Mom, what does meal mean?" as we were eating lunch. I might point out that I've already defined this word several different times in a couple of different ways including giving examples. Every day she also asks, "Mom, how big is the baby?" and "Mom, how big is your tummy."
Sarah enjoys remembering fun family activities and sometimes amazes me with how long ago she can remember. She remembers, for example, going on an airplane to visit my grandparents when she was still not yet 2 years old.
Every morning Sarah starts the day by telling us about her dreams. She always asks us what we dreamed and we seldom remember well enough to suit her.
She is also curious about how the baby got into my tummy and how it is going to come out. This was evidenced one day when she was telling me a story and it involved the doctor cutting a small hole in my tummy to put the baby in so it could get big and then cutting another bigger hole to take it out. (I have tried to explain is the simplest way possible how the baby thing works, but she is clearly not convinced or else doesn't quite get it yet.)
She is perfect with elderly people. We did our family home evening with the "grandmas and granpas" at a rest home near here and they loved her. She is not at all reserved and talks plenty loud. She allows them to pet her face and hair and doesn't mind answering the same question every 30 seconds from the same person. She sang and prayed right into the microphone and they loved her. Emmie followed her lead and also did her share of talking and singing into the microphone.
Sarah is a delight as always. We love her.

no more questions

Alan is way too busy and stressed to blog this even which happened to him last night so I will. Yesterday evening Alan was in the office frantically trying to do his consulting work, which is way behind schedule. Sarah is "hanging out with him" in the office, climbing onto the back of his chair and hanging over his neck while digging her little elbows into his shoulders etc. So Alan suggests to her that she "close the door on your way out okay?" "I'm not going out," she responded. "I am going to stay in the office." Alan tried to resolve concerns. "Why are you going to stay?" "Because I want to stay in the office." Again Alan tried, "Why do you want to stay?" "Because I want to." Alan: "What do you want to do here? Why do you want to stay?" Sarah: "No more questions daddy."

Counting

Sarah has learned how to count to 100. We are surprised (maybe) and happy (definately).