When Liz was little…

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…she was STILL funny.  Here are some quotes and exchanges from when she was about 1 1/2-2 years old, before she’d really gotten the hang of talking.

We were over at T’s.  I had mentioned that I was tired, and I let out a big yawn.  Liz grabbed my hand and dragged me in to the kitchen, right over to the coffee maker.  She said “coffee. coffee. mom coffee.”  LOL!!  So I checked out the coffee maker, looked around in the cabinets, and couldn’t find any coffee.  I told Liz that I was mad because there was no coffee, and she said, “tantrum?”  I told her no, I’d just sit and rest so I wasn’t quite as tired.

~

Liz totally cracked me up last night.

First, she saw my hair in pigtails. She said, “mom two ponytails!” Then she grabbed two ponytail holders, tried to stick them on her head, and said, “liz two ponytails!” She got pigtails.

Then, in the bath, I asked her what she’d like to do tomorrow. She said, “counting.” Okay…I guess we’ll be counting today.

I figured out that the best way to rinse her hair is to distract her by singing songs. I sang the Bob the Builder theme song (because I’d had it going through my head all day). Then she pipes up, “bob…baawwwb…winny, scoop…bob builder…YEAH!” She was trying to sing! It was so cute!

She read to her baby doll…but instead of reading a board book, she was reading the REI catalog. She pointed out all the happy people, all the tents, the colors of the shirts…it was hilarious.

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We were watching America’s Funniest Home Videos, and they showed a couple of mad kid videos (baby scared of shadow, etc.).  Every time a kid would cry, Liz would say, “paci? more milk? hug? sorry?”
Someone woke somebody else up by banging on pots and pans, and I told her that seeing stuff like that makes me mad because it’s not nice.  She came up to me and started petting my arm, “nice…nice…”

~

When Liz was about a year old, this was the usual after-work altercation…
Liz: Bike! Bike! Bike! Bike! Bike! Bike!
Mom: Dude, I’ve already ridden six miles today, I’m tired–
Liz: Bike! Bike! Bike! Bike! Bike! Bike! Bike!
Mom: ..hey, we don’t have our helmets, we can’t go for a ride…
Liz: Bike! Bike! Bike! Bike! Bike! Bike! Bike! Bike!
Mom: How would you like to go up and down the basement stairs?
Liz: Stairs!

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