While my day is often punctuated by dropping everything to post what Muffin has said on Facebook, I can never quite decide whether its best to dash these gems off on my default personal page or make a couple of extra clicks to get over to Reflective Mom.  So here, as a way of avoiding that crucial decision entirely, are a few Muffin Sayings on “the blog”.

 

I’m calling them “Muffinisms”.

 

Everything that comes out of her mouth lately has just been so funny (or horrifying).  And it’s just impossible to keep from sharing how my demanding toddler pointed at food on the counter and said:

 

“I NEED those snacks in my MOUTH!”

But that was so last week, and I’ve already posted it; so forgive me.  Here are some fresh baked Muffinisms, from just this morning:

 

“Sometimes I get scared because I’m scary.”

This is a revelation that happened in broad daylight, in the kitchen.

 

 

“Sometimes I will wake up in the mornings and I will be tired and I will go to tap-tap class and I will bring my bag and I will wear my tap-tap shoes.  Tap-tap shoes are black.”

While Muffin has never attended a dance class in her two and three-quarters years long life, she often lives vicariously through the times she’s “helped” escort cousin Nori to “tap-tap” class.  I’m guessing it’s memorable…  Nori usually spends the drive in the other carseat reminding me at every stoplight that she’s too tired for Muffin to be looking at her.  A little canvas tap-tap bag trails behind as she leads the way to her room.  Colorful big-girl princess panties peak out of an always slightly snug leotard.  She plops on the carpet to change into shiny black tap shoes.  No wonder Muffin always talks about her; Nori is way cool.

 

 

“A little girl pushed me because she hurt my stomach!  Ow!  It hurts!  She push me; she push me at the nursh-ree!”

With family in town, we’ve visited a different church the past three Sundays.  I guess yesterday there was a cosmic shift because the very first Sunday (three weeks ago) it was a different story.

 

“I push Evelyn, at the nursh-ree.  I push her like dis!”

I’d tried to sound horrified, disappointed, and slight ominous all at once (only to keep laughter at bay – a delectable combination I learned from my own childhood), “Oh no!  You didn’t!  Oh Daddy!  What are we going to do?  What did the teacher do?!”

 

 

“The teacher, she said, ‘No! no…no…no…no…’  And she change me.”

But I digress.  Back to what Muffin said this morning.

 

“Can you come in?  Can you come watch me?  Can you COME SEE ME IN THE BATHROOM?!”

I would jump at the opportunity, honestly, to watch my child use the big-girl step to stand at the sink and wash yogurt off of her hands but experience tells me I’ll want to interject some words of advice and will just as adamantly be asked to leave.

 

“I need my privacy.”

This is sure sign all of the hand soap will quickly disappear down the drain, three hand towels will find their way into the sink basin, and water will seep out from under the door into the hallway.  “Uh, no.  You don’t get privacy.”

 

 

“Mommy, I don’t like it when you are on your computer and on your phone.”

How’s that for honesty?  What if we all could just walk around and tell it like it is:  “Excuse me?  Yeah, you.  I don’t like that you’re talking to other customers!”  Or at a party, “Hey, you!  Talk to ME now!  NOW!”  I watched this video on YouTube about this once (Things You Can’t Do When You’re A Toddler) and it had me screaming laughing with tears.  Muffin watched it, and a couple of similar ones with me just now.  Her response was very sincere:

 

“That Ok, Mommy.  That OK.  That what happens…to wittle girls.  Those wittle girls will be all better.  They won’t cry.  That what happens to wittle girls.”

In this case she’s referring to adult actors portraying toddlers and whiny brat children.  I guess I am forever telling my daughter, “That’s what happens when….[insert whatever behavior caused pain, discomfort, or catastrophe].”

 

“I need to go bye-bye in the car!  Let’s clean up!”

My child continually tries to motivate and reward me.  Again, a learned way of speaking….that is completely lost in translation.  I’m sorry but the dangling carrot of my toddler dropping one or two toys into a bin, before emptying a 1 pound package of lima beans on the floor, is not enough to motivate to change up my plans, dash to the garage and fire up the car engine.  (…or, wait, maybe it is!)

 

Did your kid say something adorable this today?  Share it with me in the comments.  Honestly, I get such a kick out of this stuff 🙂

 

-RM