Wednesday, January 27 (as I left to go to the store):
P (teary-eyed): Don’t get crashed. And don’t get broken.
Sunday, January 3 (while playing with Play-Doh):
“I’m scooping the sad out. Now the bear is happy!”
Friday, January 1, 2016:
P: Mom? Where did Dad go?
M: He’s visiting his friend.
P: Oh. So now there is just one grown-up, named you.
Monday, December 28 (before nap):
M: And then the wolf huffed, and he puffed–
P: MOM! Don’t blow my head off my face.
Thursday, December 24 (listening to Christmas music in the car):
M: Ooh! This one is called “Santa Baby.”
P (confused): Tiny Santa?
Saturday, December 19 (while driving):
P: Can I hear that song again?
M: We can’t rewind the radio, honey.
P: Oh. It will run out of batteries?
Thursday, December 17 (upon my third trip to her room at bedtime):
P: Mom. Tell Jesus that I’m crying.
M: He knows. He can see you.
P (points to the monitor): On the camera?
M: No. He’s everywhere. He is with you all the time.
P (looks alarmed): He is not scary?
Saturday, November 28:
“When it’s Ruh-cember, Christmas will show up.”
Wednesday, November 25 (upon seeing an artsy black-and-white photo of herself as a baby):
“I was gray?”
Friday, November 6:
M: My hands are ice cold!
P: Oh. Mine are milk cold.
Sunday, September 27 (after she woke up with laryngitis):
“Maybe you just wipe my mouth and den I have a voice.”
Friday, September 25:
“Listen to this music, Mommy. DANCE. Move your skin.”
Tuesday, September 15:
M: I love you.
P: Look at that pink ball. And this red ball.
Monday, September 14:
M: Goodnight, little elephant. Goodnight, little lamb. Goodnight, little Peaches.
P: Goodnight, little Mommy.
Sunday, September 13 (after eating tomatoes with a little ground pepper on top):
“Daddy, I need milk with two handles filled up because my mouth is SPICY.”
Wednesday, September 9 (after COVERING herself — face to feet — in stickers from the nice cashier at Trader Joe’s):
“I look like I’m just Spider-Man.”*
*No idea how she knows Spider-Man.
Sunday, August 23:
P (points to a mountain): That’s kind of a shark.
M: Sharks are in the ocean, honey.
P: What?! Sharks are in the aquarium.
Sunday, August 16 (when I lifted her up for a hug after B was born):
“You pick me up? Are you supposed to do?”
Friday, August 7:
P: Maybe when Baby Brother is one and a-half, maybe he can put on his shoes, and maybe his legs are strong and so maybe he can walk around.
M: Yes, maybe. But first we should probably give him a name. What should we name him, P?
Saturday, August 1 (right after she woke up from her nap):
M: You’re a sleepy bugs.
P: No. I’m a wakey bugs.
Sunday, July 19 (while dancing to classical music):
“Mommy. I put that dragon right in space.”
Oh. Okay, then.
Wednesday, July 15:
“Mommy, you’re my daughter. I love you.”
Tuesday, July 14 (while FaceTiming with her Aunt B):
“Baby Brother is right here, in Mommy’s belly. He’s SOOO TINY, like doggies and babies.”
Wednesday, July 8 (crawling onto the couch beside me for her bedtime story):
“Help me, my mommy, okay? I need a really BIG cuddle.”
Tuesday, July 7:
When I dropped a hair tie on the floor, Peaches bent down to pick it up for me.
M: Thank you, sweetie.
P: You’re welcome. I’m a gentleman.
Saturday, July 4:
For Independence Day, we went to the pool with some friends and their six-year-old twin boys. One of them asked, “Can we put you in the pool?”
Peaches kneeled right down by the pool ledge and shook her head emphatically. “Not yet. I’m still just a little girl.”
Sunday, June 28:
She was on the playground, and I stepped in front of her swing to push it higher. She gestured and said, “Mommy. Mommy. Move backwards and I can see the kids.” I glanced behind me, and there were a few young girls taking selfies on the slide. Clearly way more interesting than Mommy/Peaches playtime.
Tuesday, June 2 (totally unprompted and out of nowhere):
“Sometimes I gotta put on a tutu and spin around. Sometimes I gotta do dat. But…after later.”
Thursday, May 28:
“Watch out, birdies! There’s a plane comin’!”
Wednesday, May 20:
She woke up from her nap crying, which almost never happens. When I went in to get her, she pointed to the vertical blinds that were blowing a bit in the breeze and letting in twinkles of sun. “Mommy, it’s lightning.”
Saturday, May 16 (spotting a man with a tattoo sleeve at the airport):
“Why dat man have ALL DAT MARKER on his arm?”
Sunday, May 10 (after I opened the sunroof on the freeway):
“Closed, please. I don’t like fresh air.”
Tuesday, May 5 (while driving on a gravel road):
“I like dust. I want eat it.”
Saturday, May 3:
First thing in the morning, when I’m changing her diaper, I always pretend to bite her toes. Her usual response is, “No! Just kiss.” Naturally, I oblige. But today, she said, “‘Kay. Now Mommy, ‘kay, just bite dem realllllllly gently.”
Thursday, April 30:
M: Well, aren’t you a smarty pants!
P: No, I’m a smarty GIRL.
Tuesday, February 24:
M (sings while preparing dinner): I’m a little teapot, short and stout! Here is my–
P (puts her hand up): Stop. Sing it in yo’ head.