Airplane

Well, we successfully completed our first roundtrip flight together, Breanna and I. There was a little bit of tension right when she would have to sit down, or when I had to put the DVD player away, but we made it through alive.

On the first part of the trip, Southwest gave her a little certificate showing the date of her first flight, so that was pretty special.

She liked to sit in a seat all by herself (only when one was open) and go, "A-pane, myoom, myoom." Very special memories...

Na Do It!!

You know when you are trying to open a bag of M & M's or peanuts or something, and you pull really hard and finally the whole thing comes apart and whatever it is goes flying into the air everywhere? This isn't really like that, but it reminded me of it.

While sitting in my dad's church last Sunday, Breanna ate a bunch of berries. Then we moved on to O's. I pulled out the little O container and had just barely clicked it open, when we got a loud, "Na do it!!!" (Na is her name - BreanNA) And she grabbed the container jerking it up from my hand and since I had just opened it, O's went flying into the air and landing all around us in the pew. Good thing we were almost in the back row. :-)

Things You Don't Think You'll Ever Say Part 3...

While making chocolate oatmeal cookies at my dad's house two days ago...

"No, no baby. Don't put your toes in the peanut butter."

Stop the singing!!!

Okay, this happened last week some time, and I just now remembered it.

I was organizing/rearranging some of the stuff in the office and Breanna was getting into all my music books. She would open one and I'd sing her whatever song she opened to. She finally got to the Phantom of the Opera book, and I flipped to Think of Me. I sang it to her till she got bored and left.

But then it was in my head. So I kept singing through to the end where there's a crazy operatic run that goes fairly high. I belted this out with full opera gusto and it was pretty good, if I do say so myself. So I did it a few more times. Of course it got worse each time, but that's beside the point.

Anyway, after a few times I asked Breanna if she liked mommy's singing. She said, "Yeah. Pissy seeneen (not being vulgar, just spelling accurate pronunciations)." Then I asked, "Should I do it again?" to which she replied, "No. Not!"

So I guess it really did get worse each time! At least she's honest!!

Uh oh hayneen.

Just so I never forget it, I have to write that Breanna has recently started calling her pacifier Hayneen. The only explanation for this that I can come up with is that occasionally it would get caught up and hang from the rail of her crib. Maybe at some point I said, "Is it hanging?" Otherwise I have no idea where this came from.

But during this last week, several times when she woke up she would throw it overboard. I would go in there to hear, "Uh oh hayneen" over and over in her very high-pitched, very worried and upset voice. Cutest thing ever.

Aside from what she's doing right now, which is pulling everything out of her dresser drawers and putting it piece by piece on the floor of the closet, after walking all the way into the family room to show me each item on her head. That includes sheets and blankets pulled over her head so that she bumps right into furniture. And then she removes the item and bumps into the furniture just for fun. Sometimes I wonder about this kid!

But to add to that cuteness, when she wants to play more of this peekabo, she says, "More see you," because we always say, "Where's Breanna. Oh I see you!"

Which leads to another cute thing she says. I remember Kyra always used to say, "Mommy hold you" and I always thought it was funny that she said "you." Well, now Breanna says exactly the same thing. How sweet. Hopefully these cousins will get to know each other someday.

Hold the onions, please

We recently spent the week with Grammy (Boppy), but I still can't figure out how Breanna got this. Yes, Grammy hates onions with every fiber of her being, but the topic didn't really come up a whole lot at her house.

But nevertheless, the other day we had spaghetti, and I always add chopped onion and some other stuff to the storebought sauce. Breanna pulled out a tiny piece of onion and held it out to me ever so carefully on the tip of her finger. I said, "That's an onion. Yummy." She looked at me seriously and said, "Trash." I said, "No, that's an onion." She once again said, "Trash," and forced me to remove it from her sight.

Guess maybe some weird stuff is hereditary, but skips a generation! Fabulous!! (Can you hear the sarcasm dripping off that word?)