(Also posted at Cootiehog.com)

So last night at about 10 p.m. CootieDad decided to go to bed, so I moved CootieBoy from the bassinet to the crib so that CootieDad could turn on the light if need be. When I opened the door, CootieGirl sat up in bed. “Mama,” she croaked (she has a sore throat and has a lovely gravel in her voice), “Potty.”

I took her hand and let her into the bathroom where she promptly sat on her potty for a few minutes. Nothing happened, so I put a fresh Dora training diaper on her and put her back in her bed.

I went back downstairs for an hour or so, and promptly at 11 p.m., just as I was about to head to bed myself, CootieGirl woke up and started banging on her door. She decided it was time to get up and play. CootieDad was already asleep at that point, so I tried to occupy her attention. I brought her into bed with us hoping that she’d never fully wake up, but the minute she hit the bed she was ALL ABOUT THE PLAYING. Bouncing, giggling, pushing, hitting – you name it, she was doin’ it.

Obviously she woke CootieDad up. We put up with the constant activity for about 15 minutes and I finally got out of bed and took her downstairs with me. I laid her on the couch with some milk, turned on the TV to the Soundscapes music channel, and prayed the darkness and music would lull her to sleep.

No such thing! Animals are fun to play with! And dollies! And Mama’s high heeled shoes!

For more than an hour, as I lay half-asleep on the sofa, she puttered around the living room doing what toddlers do. At about 1 a.m. I sat up. “You wanna take a ride in the car?” I asked her.

She ran to the front door. “Car! Car!”

I loaded her up, jacked up the heat, turned on classical music and drove 25 minutes an hour around the area. After 20 minutes I was sweaty, tired, and my daughter was more awake than ever, pointing at things she saw in the dark night.

I parked the van in the driveway, took her back in the house and laid her on our bed, commanding her to sleep. I promptly laid down and refused to be lulled into playing again.

Next thing I knew it was 7:08 in the morning, I was still in bed and officially late for work.

CootieGirl’s new favorite thing to do is call out for me about 100 times in a row.

Mama mama mama mama MAMA MAMA MAMA MAMA MAMA MAMA MAMA MAMA MAMA.

It doesn’t stop. Does she every cry out “Daddy daddy daddy daddy DADDY DADDY DADDY”?

Nope. Never.

CootieGirl loves the phone. When our phone rings she will run into the kitchen in excitement and wait for me to answer. “Hello?” I’ll say, as CootieGirl vibrates next to me, anxious to talk on the phone as well. I’ll finish my call and hang up, which will distress her to no end because she wanted to talk on the phone, too.

Then she’ll run and grab her own phone (a toy cellphone) and pick it up. “Hello?” she’ll say into the phone, nodding her head. “Yes,” she’ll say. “Yeeessss.” Then she’ll prop the phone between her head and shoulder so she can grab whatever toy is laying nearby and walk around the house, saying “Yeeesssss,” into the phone. Occasionally she’ll vary her content, saying “Sure…sure,” but mainly it’s “Yes…yyyeeessssss”.

CootieGirl has been sick before, but never like this. She’s downright sad. It’s tough to take.

She has a bad cold – constant sneezing, coughing and runny nose. But she’s also completely lethargic and weepy. Lethargy I can handle, constant weepiness is harder to take.

CootieGirl is normally a trooper – she can handle anything that comes her way, whether it’s a coffee table or a missed step. But this cold has her down in the dumps.

This afternoon after church she took a solid 2 hour nap, her normal nap length. Upon waking I gave a snack and some water. She ate it happily enough but she still had tears streaming down the face.

No crying, no shuddering breaths, just this stream of water coming out of her eyes as she watched “Oobi” on Noggin. Then I brought her in the kitchen with me while I made crumble cake. I sat her on the counter and she was content to sit and watch me mix and pour the batter into the pan. But again, tears just silently ran down her cheeks the entire time.

As the cake mixed we went back into the living room and cuddled on the recliner, and eventually I said, “Let’s go upstairs,” figuring I’d have her lay on my bed for a while since CootieBoy was napping in their room. So we’re laying on the bed and again she is just weeping copious amounts. Then she sat up suddenly, just staring at me, her face about the crumple.

“Do you want to lay in your own bed?” I asked quietly.

With that, she nodded and she wailed, “Bed!” She then crawled in my arms and I carried her into her room. I think she was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

Poor little thing.

It’s been so long since I posted that the last entry actually disappeared leaving nothing on the main page!

So here I am posting.

Even though there’s not much to update right now.

I mentioned it at Cootiehog, but CootieGirl has been really moody lately. If she doesn’t get her way she goes into a complete meltdown.

Last night she actually screamed bloody murder, collapsing in a heap on the kitchen floor, refusing to get up or calm down.

Why?

Because I opened the cookie tin for her and handed her a cookie.

See, I told you.

The girl is absolutely mad. Mad, I tell you!

I should have known better, when she handed me the cookie tin, that she wanted me to open it and then hand THE WHOLE TIN OF COOKIES back to her.

Stupid Mama.

CootieGirl’s current favorite word is “home”. She says it all the time. When she hears someone say it on tv, she calls out “home!” She points to our front door (from inside the house, mind you) and says, “home!” This morning while playing in our room she kept saying, “home”. It’s comforting to know that she seems to know that word and is happy about it. Home is a good thing and a great word for her.

The other word she says is “nunk”. This stands for “milk”. Funnily, this is the exact way I said milk when I was her age (as my mom tells me). Apparently when I was a toddler I asked for “dobutts and colutt nunk” (donuts and chocolate milk). So I always laugh when CootieGirl holds out her sippy cup to me and says “more nunk!”

Last night as I left for band practice at the church office, I closed the glass door that separates our front door vestibule from the living room. As I began to close the main front door CootieGirl came running over and banged on the glass door. I turned and said, “See you later!”, to which she replied, “lub you!” (Love you). That’s the first time she’s voluntarily said “I love you” to me without being prompted (”I love you, CootieGirl. Do you love me?” “Lub you!”). A zing went through my heart as she smiled at me through the glass door. Now, I don’t know if CootieDad prompted her to say it, but I felt ten feet tall as I drove to the office for practice.