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The World According to A1: Elmo Gets A Sex Change

So, another morning begins in the A house. A2 is already awake, fed, and sitting in her Exersaucer. I venture into A1’s room and greet a groggy A1, who makes to make sure (as is custom) her blanket and litany of select stuffed animals make it out of the crib.

I change her soggy Pull-Up, and she points to her private area. “Lady parts”, she says. “Yes, those are your lady parts,” I replied. As I changed her, she picked up her stuffed Elmo.

Elmo has lady parts, too.

I laughed, perhaps a little too hard. “Mommy laughing?” She said, incredulous. I told her I was laughing with her, not at her, and that Elmo
is a boy with boys’ private parts.

She wasn’t convinced. “Elmo has lady parts, too.”

I decided to redirect her. “Abby (Cadabby) is a girl. She has lady parts.”

“Abby! Where’s Abby?”

Abby, unfortunately, is buried under some toys in our PnP. Ain’t nobody got time for that, but Elmo’s got time for lady parts.

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Put Shoes On It.

As the slangin’ folk usually say, it’s been a hot minute. We had a yard sale last weekend. Onesies and sleep ‘n’ plays left our tables by the armful on Saturday; on Sunday, not so much. All in all, it went well, $200+ later.

A couple of weeks ago, A1 wanted to go outside. She always says, “Go outside, play! Go outside, play!” Back in the cave speak days, I used tell her to sit on my lap, put a sweatshirt on, and put her shoes on, sometimes while feeling like I am wrestling an octopus.

This time, she really wanted my attention.

“Mommy! Go outside, play!” Then she lifted her bare feet. “Put shoes awn it!” (Yes, that is her actual pronunciation of the word “on”.)

I eventually noticed that other things were “awn.” I was changing her diaper and she saw her My Little Ponies (my vintage ’80s and ’90s ones, which were the only toys my mom kept) in the transparent storage bin next to her closet. “Dere’s ponies awn it.”

If you liked it, then you should’ve put shoes awn it.

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Bee! Bee!

Toddlers are hilarious. The things they say when they figure out the concept of stringing words together is out of this world. Yesterday, the As and I were in A2’s room for a diaper change. A1 had pulled one of her Abby Cadabby books off the shelf.

“Mom-my,” she said in her cute little voice, “Abby eats bluebebbies.” I laughed. “She does?” I said, impressed. “I had no idea.” She is still working on her ‘r’ sounds, so it comes out as ‘b’ or ‘w’.

Also, every insect (or arachnid, since there are plenty of spiders crawling around) is a bee. Flies freak her out. M has a fit every time she sees anything of the order Insecta, and now A1 is imitating her. In fact, when SIL J was pregnant with her, she had a similar fit when a bee came near her. Overreactions run deep, I guess.

Daddy J is part of the chain gang for our local high school’s football team. Parking is usually insane, and the As are too little to sit through that, so I haven’t taken them yet. I decided to send him a photo of A1. Usually, she says “Cheese!”. Not today. A stealthy house fly just had to be in the kitchen. Thank you, family Lepidoptera for gracing us with your presence.

“BEE! BEE!” My toddler screamed. Damn flies, I thought. She also thinks that pieces of “bluebebby” in her yogurt are ‘bees’ if she has just seen one. Here’s some photographic evidence:

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You best “bee” solvin’ this problem for me, Mommy!

She had eaten most of it at that point, so the last few bites were refused after bee time. Thankfully, all the flies are gone now.