A Very Merry Unbirthday

It dawned on me about an hour after I put Avery to bed that she's officially 2 and a half today. Whew. And she's every bit of that.

Two days ago, both girls and I were in Target. Ainsley started to cry because she was tired, and I was in the checkout line trying to get out of there and get home. While we were standing in line and I was trying to calm Ainsley down, Avery said "Mom, Ainsley wants some milk from your boobs" just loud enough for every person around me to hear. It'd be an understatement to say I was embarrassed. I guess there's a reason why 2 1/2 year olds don't normally talk as much and as well -- they don't understand what's socially appropriate to say and/or keep to yourself.

I will take some "I'm 2-and-a-half" pictures tomorrow, so for now, just a picture of Ainsley May.

Averyisms

Every day she says something so funny to me, and every day I promise myself that I'll write it all down, and then I don't. So I'm going to list some funny Averyisms here.

Today she said to Murphy:
"Murphy, you're all covered with soft, furry, love hair!"

Yesterday:
While she was eating a french fry (yes, we eat them on occasion):
"I wonder how they got all that bread in there, Mom."

To me:
"Mom, dad has a job. And you don't have a job. But I have a job. I make a mess!"

Last week:
As I entered into her bedroom:
"Mom, you have great big huge boobs between your elbows!"
Thanks Avery, at least you didn't say they were between my knees.

To Winston:
"Winston, you're my best dog ever ever never."

A conversation in the car:
Avery -- "Mom, where's dad?"
Me -- "He's at work today."

Avery -- "Oh, yes. He is at work. But you don't go to work."
Me -- "No, I don't go to work."

Avery -- "Yes, you stay home with me instead."
Me -- "That's right honey. I stay home with you and I take care of you and feed you and play with you and read you books."

Avery -- "Yes, and you take me shopping!"
Me (laughing) -- "That's true, I do."

Have you ever seen the movie...

"The Hand"?

I think Ainsley has. Either that, or her hand has.

She could be in a dead sleep, totally sacked out, and it's as if her hand creeps up to her face, feels around for the pacifier handle, and damn if it doesn't pluck that pacifier right out of her mouth, only to send her into a screaming fit.

It's almost as if it's not attached to her body. A hand with a mind of its own? Spoooooooooooky.