Okay, just a single week ago Very Mom posted about how her 4-year-son Jacob has gone insane. Well, since I read that post, CootieGirl has joined the forces with Jacob. She is literally out of her mind.

And CootieDad makes a good point – she hangs out in the 4-5 year old room now. She moved up a few months ago because one of the boys in the infant – 3 year old room kept hitting and biting her. So her personality has changed and we find that she acts more like a four year old than a 2 1/2 year old. At least, that’s our theory.

Very Mom talked about a book she’s reading all about the wild and wonderful four-year-old and apparently the book talks about how the rules are always changing for a four-year-old. She describes the normally simple game of hide and seek in which she never knows whether she should “find” him or not. If she makes the wrong choice then tears and tantrums ensue.

CootieGirl now does this with every single decision she has to make.

Example: Sippy Cup Wars

“I want the blue cup!”
*I hand her the blue cup*
“No! I want the pink cup!”
*I take back the blue cup and hand her the pink cup*
“NOOOOOCootieGirl- THE BLUE CUUUUPPPP!!!!”
*switch cups again*
“NNNNNOOOOOOOOCootieGirl- THE PPPPIIIINNNNKKKKK CCCCCCUUUUUUPPPPPP!!!!”

and on and on and on.

Example: The Bed Wars
“I want big bed!”
*she hops on big bed and I say goodnight*
“NO! I want my bed!”
*she scrambles over to her toddler bed and I say goodnight.*
“NNOOO!! I WANT BIG BED!”
*makes the switch and I begin to close the door*
“NNNNNNNOOOOO!!!!! MMMMMMYYYYYY BBBBBBEEEEEDDDDDD!!!!”

Example: TV Wars
“I want Hi-5!”
*I turn on Hi-5*
“No – I WANT LAZYTOWN!”
*turns on Lazy Town*
“NNNNOOOOO!!!!!HHHHHHHIIIIIII-555555555!”
*turns on Hi-5*
“NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

*turns on American Idol*

We have three “beds” in the kids’ room. The crib, which CootieBoy uses, the toddler bed, which CootieGirl uses, and a regular double bed that was used by my formerly-single sister when my whole family came to visit.

The kids mainly use the bed as a toy – they climb on it, jump on it, throw toys on it, and “play” sleep on it. Last night as I was putting the kids to bed, CootieGirl started protesting about going in her own bed.

“Big bed!” she whined. “I want big bed!”

I escorted her to the big bed, knowing that by the time I got to the door to leave she’d be scrambling back to her own bed. Once she laid down she got bored and grabbed a toy from the nearby toy chest (in the dark, mind you – all lights were off). Of course she grabbed a toy that made loud noises, which upset CootieBoy, who at that point had been sleeping in the crib.

For the next HOUR CootieBoy wailed and screamed and gnashed his teeth. With CootieGirl playing on the big bed, I cuddled CootieBoy and tried to keep the room quiet. CootieBoy eventually settled down, head pushed into the crook of my neck. I stood up to put him in the crib, and once I put him down he started crying again. I grabbed CootieGirl’s pillow (which she didn’t want) and put it in the crib. CootieBoy promptly flounced on the pillow and went to sleep. I was ticked that I could have saved an HOUR of my time if I had just done that when he first started fussing.

By 9:30 p.m. I bid CootieGirl good night where she laid in the big bed. I left the room, closing the door behind me.

Imagine my surprise when I went in there this morning and found her still sleeping in the big bed! Could it be that she’s ready for the big bed and we can try to transition CootieBoy to the toddler bed in a couple months?

My kids are growing up WAY too fast…

So Saturday found CootieGirl following me into the bathroom.

“What you doing, Mama?” she asked.

“Going potty,” I replied.

“You get tattoo, Mama?”

“No, I don’t need a tattoo.”

She opened the drawer where her reward tattoos are kept.

“You get Isa tattoo, Mama.”

She pointed to the tatto featuring a character from Dora the Explorer.

I pulled out the scissors and cut the Isa tattoo from the sheet. “I get this one?” I asked.

“Yes, you get that one.”

So I won an Isa tattoo this weekend.

On Sunday, CootieDad enjoyed the same treatment. He went into the bathroom and closed the door.

“DADDY!” she hollered, her face pressed up against the door. “YOU GET TATTOO!” She paused to listen at the door. When he didn’t respond, she once again yelled, “DADDY! YOU GET TATTOOOOOOOOOOO!”.

When he opened the door she excitedly went to get him a tattoo, but he politely refused. Killjoy.

Gotta love a girl that knows when she’s tired. Last night at about 7:45 p.m. CootieGirl was laying on the sofa when she suddenly sat up and said, “Mama, I want my bed.”

“You want to go to bed?” I asked, not sure if I heard her correctly.

“Yes.” With that she hopped off the couch and began heading upstairs. We put her in a fresh diaper, her Princess nightgown and she happily crawled into bed and went to sleep.

LOVE THAT.

Yesterday I took the time to find some phonetic Russian vocabulary online. I found some last week but while it was effective, I don’t see myself asking my daughter if the Waiter’s Shirt is Black. I wanted conversational Russian, and found a bit at another website.

I printed out those sheets and brought them home and laid them out nearby. CootieGirl handed me something and I said, “SpaSEEbah” (the phonetic spelling for “thank you”). She smiled and said, “Thank you, Mama.”

There were other phrases I tried – excuse me; sorry; I’m thirsty; my name is Mama; what’s your name?, etc. My pronunciation must have been off on a few because she kept laughing at me. I can’t remember what it was now, but there was one phrase I said to her and she would always respond with some Russian that I obviously couldn’t understand. I can’t remember what my phrase was, though.

One easy one, though was “paKA”, which means “bye-bye”. At her bedtime I told her we had to go change her diaper. I said, “Paka, Daddy!” and CootieGirl went over and gave him a hug and kiss and said, “Bye, Daddy!” as we headed up the stairs.

It was a lot of fun and I REALLY want to learn conversational Russian now so that we can continue this with her even once she’s out of daycare and into school.

CootieGirl is now at a stage where she loves to ask questions. Over and over and over again.

Yesterday when I was cleaning up the double bed in her room, she followed me around, constantly asking me what I was doing. Once I got the bed cleared off and stripped of sheets she climbed up and began jumping on the bed. I got clean sheets from the closet.

“What are you doing, Mama?” she asked between jumps.

“Making the bed.”

“What’s that, Mama?”

“It’s a fitted sheet.”

*jump*

“What are you doing, Mama?”

“Making the bed.”

*two jumps*

“What are you doing?”

This went on another 5-6 rounds as I attempted to put on the fitted sheet while she was jumping on the bed. I finally asked her to sit on the corner of the bed and got the fitted sheet on the bed. As soon as I was done she got up and started jumping again. I grabbed the flat sheet.

“What’s that, Mama?”

“The sheet.”

“What are you doing with the sheet?”

“Putting it on the bed – can you come sit on the corner again?”

She sat for about five seconds.

“What are you doing, Mama?”

At that point I was so sick of answering the SAME QUESTION OVER AND OVER AGAIN and said, “What did I say I was doing?”

“What are you doing, Mama?”

“What do YOu think I’m doing?”

*jump*

“What are you doing, Mama?”

ARG! I scooted her off the bed completely and put on the flat sheet, then told her she could climb back up and go nuts.

And so it begins.

This morning, the kids were on our bed. CootieDad began changing CootieBoy’s diaper, and CootieGirl chirped, “What’s that, Mama?” while pointing in CootieBoy’s direction.

“What’s what?” I asked.

“That.” She pointed in the general direction of CootieBoy’s junk.

“Well, that’s what CootieBoy uses to go pee-pee. It’s different from yours, right?”

“Yeah. My pee pee is here.” (she gestures to her own junk).

“That’s right. Boys and girls are different.”

With that the conversation ended and she moved on to something else to investigate.

Which reminds me – last night as I was getting her ready for bed she asked to go potty. She sat on her potty for a few seconds, then asked to sit on the “big potty” (the toilet). I put her Dora the Explorer child seat on there and she sat for less than five minutes and then finally did her business.

She won a Boots tattoo for her efforts.

Last night CootieDad and I were upstairs with CootieBoy when I heard CootieGirl holler up the stairs, “Mama! I have to go to the bathroom!”

“Okay, c’mon up then,” I called back, looking at CootieDad in surprise.

She came up the stairs and promptly walked into the bathroom and lifted up the seat on her potty. “Do you need help?” I asked when she began struggling with the zipper on her jeans.

“Myself!” she said confidently, inching down the zipper. Her jeans removed, her diaper removed (by herself, I might add), she sat down on her potty. I sat down on the floor next to her and we talked for a moment. Then I said, “Do you want me to stay, or go out?”

“Out, Mama, and close the door.”

“Well okay then!” I stood up and left, leaving the door open only a crack. She sat in there for about a minute then shouted, “Mama! I’m done!”

I came in, and she had not actually gone in the potty, but I didn’t care – she actively chose to sit on the potty. We put a pull-up on her and within five minutes she had peed in that pull-up. Part of me was frustrated, but the other part was thrilled. She KNEW she had to pee, and knew that involved sitting on the potty. She sat on the potty. Sure, she ended up peeing in the pull-up, but I don’t care – she actively sat on the potty as part of the whole going-to-the-bathroom process.

CootieDad then told me that she had done that the night before with him – which means PROGRESS. YAY!