Making the Nice List

Georgia has more than enough redeeming qualities to make up for her aforementioned behaviors that sometimes drive us to pull our hair out. So, in the spirit of positivity (and being kind to your children), I felt like writing down some of the stuff that Georgia's doing and saying these days to crack us up.

--When June's fussy, bending down and asking her, "Are you frustrated?" and telling her, "Let's talk for a minute."

--Saying, "You're doing a great job, June" when her sister is screaming about doing tummy time.

--Calling nutcrackers graham crackers.

--Saying "Good grief" sometimes when June spits up.

--Pretending her xylophone is a dog named Nacho. Talking to it sweetly. Putting it to bed in its "cage" (a bookcase cubby). Dragging it behind her and saying, "C'mon. C'mon."

--Trying to wear baby clothes.

{In case you can't tell, here she has stuffed herself into 6 month old size pants, has swiped another baby outfit and a diaper from June's dresser to put on her doll, is carting around one of my hairbrushes and all of our travel toiletries in her shopping cart, and is wearing a hat, a neckwarmer, and my headband, all on her head.}

--Coming out with surprising sentences, for instance, "He is the author who wrote this book" upon seeing a photo on a book jacket. Or pointing at the ice cream vendor in a book and saying, "We have to ask him what the ingredients are."

--Asking to sing "Poor Rudolph" (aka, Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer).

--Asking for "snitches" of food but then proceeding to eat half or more of what you'd served yourself.

--Being so entertained by paper towels that she goes around wiping our walls and occasionally attempts to clean public bathroom floors. (Ew.)

--Saying, "The man is coming" while being tucked into bed. (This was the beginning of her grasp of the Santa concept, but it took us a while to figure it out. She just started saying, "The man is coming. In your room." And then she finally added, "He's going to leave you a present." Ah-ha! For a second there, we were concerned that a strange man had been breaking into her bedroom.)

--Pressing the ringer test button on the phone, wildly grinning, and then holding up the handset to one of us and saying, "SANTA!" (Joe and I have each had countless fake one-sided conversations with Santa and Mrs. Claus now, on topics ranging from what type of cookies to leave out, to whether the Colts will cover at Jacksonville.)

--Adding the phrase, "I guess" to the end of most sentences ,whether it fits or not. "Can you come with us I guess?" "Is it time for lunch I guess?" "Is June awake I guess?" etc.

--Telling us to "go watch football" most nights when we tuck her in. (No, we're not watching countless hours of sports; she just wants to believe that we're in the family room and haven't gone upstairs after she goes to bed.)

--Saying the word "actually" a lot. Usually in front of really obvious statements, like, "Actually, my pants are red." Or when she's being super serious, for instance, when she told the boy at Barnes & Noble who was playing on a make believe train table, "Actually, it's a bench." Like, duh, dude.