When you hand Billie a piece of curled over bacon she runs through the house screaming, “IT’S LIKE A MEAT CANDY CAAAAANE!!!”
…so there’s that.
humor
Cooler Than You
My mom: “Billie, if you could be any character from ‘Frozen’ who would you be?”
Billie: “I would be the angry ice snowmonster that Elsa creates to protect her.”
My mom: “That is probably the coolest answer ever.”
Billie: “Of COURSE it’s cool. HE’S MADE OF ICE.”
The No Thank You Bite
I thought I was a freaking genius when I instituted the “no thank you bite” rule.
I thought I was freaking brilliant.
You see, Billie has always had an issue branching out and trying new foods.
She, quite unlike her mother, is a creature of habit. If you gave her the same meal for the rest of her life she would probably be just fine.
Hence the “no thank you bite” rule.
It compels her to take a bite of everything on her plate, even if she doesn’t really want to. She tries it once, says “no thank you” and we move on. 70% of the time she decides that whatever she just put in her mouth was actually delicious and, despite saying a quick “no thank you” after tasting it, she ends up going back to it.
Thus my daughter expands her food horizons, makes healthier choices, and, most importantly, I feel like a good parent.
Except when it backfires.
Apparently, in my excitement of instituting the “no thank you bite” rule, I forgot to also institute parameters. Namely parameters that prohibited me from having to be responsible for any “no thank you” bites…
I have had to eat some really disgusting stuff, guys.
No amount of “no thank you bite” solidarity is worth this.
Worse? Her talents for negotiation are growing. The following conversation ensued last night:
Billie: “Mommy, can you put a baby in your belly, please? I want a brother or sister. Please?”
Me: “No, baby. Not anytime soon.”
Billie: “How about a ‘no thank you’ try?”
Me: “…”
Billie: “Yup! You have to! A no thank you try!!”
I… I… Just…
Ugh.
A Lesson In Similies
Teacher: “How are you feeling today, Billie?”
Billie: “I feel like macaroni.”
Teacher: “Oh. Ok? Uh… How does a macaroni feel?”
Billie: “Soggy, tired, and full of cheese.”
My kid is a poet.
Resolution
Maddie (6): “My New Year’s resolution is to be kind to my family and love them everyday.”
Me: “That’s an amazing resolution! What’s yours, Billie?”
Billie: “Kitties.”
Me: “Kitties?”
Billie: “Yup! Kitties.”
Me: “What, exactly, are you resolving to do with kitties this year?”
Billie: “I’m going to eat them.”
Me: “Your New Year’s Resolution is to eat a cat?”
Billie: “Yup.”
Me: “What? Why??”
Billie: “I’ve never done it before. It seems like a good idea.”
#ShitMyKidSays
Billie: “I told you it would be hard having a child. I told you!”
Me: “What? When could you have possibly told me that?”
Billie: “Before you had me. I came to your dreams and I said, ‘Mommy. It’s going to be hard having a child!’ And you don’t listen to your dreams I guess.”
I’m creeped out.
But also… Inspired?
At Least She’ll Have A Successful Career In Politics
Billie: “My picture is better than yours. See? It has a blue ribbon on it.”
Me: “Billie, you drew that ribbon on your picture.”
Billie: “Yes. I did. ‘Cause it’s better.”
Me: “What makes it better?”
Billie: “It’s better because it wins. See? It has a blue ribbon on it.”
Me: “I feel like you’re a little biased.”
Billie: “Not biased. Just right.”
Later, Doug caught me looking at the photos and sighing.
Me: “My picture is good, dammit!”
Doug: “Yea, but hers is better.”
Me: “What? Why?”
Doug: “Because it has a blue ribbon on it.”
Sigh.
There is no justice in this world.
UPDATE: due to unfortunate cup placement and bad reflexes Billie’s picture got drenched. Mine remained unharmed.
I swear I had nothing to do with it.
But the huge swelling of schadenfreude that I’m feeling at the accident is making me seriously question my parenting skills.
“Dude. She’s Fine.”
Doug said Billie was sick.
I said she wasn’t.
“It’s just as cough,” I said. “She’ll walk it off,” I said.
But Doug persisted. “Billie is sick,” he said.
“Right. Yea, Okay. She’ll be fine. If it persists after a week we’ll call a doctor,” I said.
That was 2 weeks ago.
Tonight Billie coughed so hard she threw up on me.
Five. Times.
Hey guys, guess what?
Billie is sick.
Siiiiiigh,
Doug is going to be UNBEARABLE after this.
The Zombie Struggle is Real
“Dude. You’re naked. Still. Why are you still naked?”
Billie: “I hear noises outside. I hear the scratching. I think it’s zombies coming up from the ground. It’s zombies coming up from the ground to eat our whole brains out!”
“And that’s why you’re naked? Why can’t you get dressed? Do you really wanna fight zombies naked?”
Billie: “I CANT FOCUS ON CLOTHES WHEN THERE ARE ZOMBIES, MOM.”
This is our morning so far, folks.
Billie badger don’t give a shit.
I just walked in on Billie on her hands and knees with a bag of ice in her mouth, tearing her face back and forth vigorously.
“Um. Whatcha doin, love?”
Her mouth goes slack and the bag of ice drops to the floor. She looks at me disapprovingly before saying, “Don’t you remember I’m a badger? Badgers don’t talk.”
She sighed as if exhausted by my lack of intellect, picked up the bag of ice with her teeth, and went back to shaking it ferociously; growling and drooling all the while.
This is my life, guys.
Billie's Momma 