just humbling...

Evie: Mom, I wasn't bothering Eloise. I wasn't even talking to her. I was just humbling to myself. [Was she mumbling? Humming? Both?]

huh?

My sister ran a post the other day called "What They're REALLY Saying..." which inspired me to write this post (which may very well be the first in a series of posts about misunderstood song lyrics):

Have you seen this movie? We haven't. Which is probably why, when we got this toy at McDonald's a couple of months ago (in one of my weak moments where "Happy Meal" translated "Happy Mom"), Evie was not familiar with the song it sang.

Real words: I like to move it, move it! I like to move it, move it!

Evie's words: Mr. Guy an' homen, homen! Mr. Guy an' homen, homen!

We tried to tell her what the guy (I think he's a raccoon? Or a lemur?) really sings, and she told us we were wrong. Hmm... Of course, she can offer no explanation of what "Mr Guy an' homen" actually means, but she's sure that's what he says.

*************

In other news, Audrey rolled from back to tummy twice this evening, both times when I was out of the room. I decided to sit by her, determined to watch it happen. I sat and sat and sat and sat and she just laughed at me. She's probably done it a bunch of times before, too, and just rolled back to her back before I've noticed...that stinker!

Audrey also started eating rice cereal yesterday! She loved it, and acted as if she'd been eating "solids" for months.

We had a very low-key Valentines day. Mr. B had to work, so the big girls and I made some cookies for him while he was gone. They loved the baking, and he loved the cookies, so it was a love-filled day!

A bellybutton named Ankle

This morning, Evie said she didn't feel well. Great, I thought, didn't we just get over practically an entire month of sickness?!? The following conversation ensued:

Me: How don't you feel good?

Evie: I just don't feel good.

Me: Like what? What feels bad?

Evie: Mmmm...my tubes.

Me: Your tubes?

Evie: Yeah, my tubes. I think my food went down the wrong tube.

Me: Your food? You haven't had breakfast, silly!

Evie: I know. It was my supper. My supper went down my breakfast tube last night. Now I can't eat breakfast, because my supper is in there.

Me: Hmmm...maybe you could try to eat breakfast. Maybe there is room in the tube.

Evie: No, there's not. I think I'm pretty sick now. So I'm going to have to watch movies today.

Aha.

Our kids don't get to watch movies very often--could you tell? In fact, I remember one night when Evie was three, the stomach flu hit her hard in the middle of the night. I brought her into the bathroom to clean her up, worried that she was going to be traumatized by the experience of waking up to the awful feeling, smell, taste, and sight of vomit. But, nope: she stood in the bathroom smiling, saying excitedly, "Do I get to watch movies? Do I get to eat jello?"! (We don't let them eat sugary treats much, either.) Yep, sickness is a celebration at our house, because we get to watch movies.

Apparently, Evie, at the age of five, already knows how to fake sickness. Fortunately, when I told her there would be no movies today regardless of her "tube" situation, her condition rapidly improved, and she proceeded to eat two big bowls of oatmeal, two pieces of whole wheat toast, a banana, and a small handful of raisins.

Eloise's tummy/tubes seemed to be just fine, although she did ask if I wanted to see her bellybutton. When I declined, she said, "Look at my bellybutton, Mom! Its name is Ankle." A bellybutton named Ankle. How 'bout that?