It started with Uncle Lee coming...ok, that is not totally true. It escalated with Uncle Lee coming. Grace is completely obsessed with poop. She wants to talk about it, sing songs about it, call people strange names involving it. I hear more about poop in a day than any mother (of a daughter) should. She and her best friend Will make up ridiculously silly ryhmes about poop. Well, I guess she went to far. On Tuesday when she came home from school she told me she wouldn't be getting a turn at helping hands in preschool. I assumed it was because she had had a turn that day. Big mistake. Ms. Katie told me today that she didn't get a turn due to her "potty language". Some kid ratted her out for saying poop. Better to hear her say poop than what she said to Jake and I on Sunday. That conversation went like this; Me, "Grace, would you like strawberries and cottage cheese for lunch? Grace: "Mom, I want sliced strawberries but I don't want your DAMN cottage cheese!" I bawled my eyes out I was laughing so hard. Methinks this is not a great way to discourage your kid to NOT do something:) Oh well. Being a mom doesn't come with a handbook. It is a learning process. Some days I get better grades than others. So now Grace is trying really hard not to talk about, sing about, or make up names about poop.
Even with all my sweet Gracie's talk about poop, I love that kid. Where would I be without her? She makes Jake and I laugh so hard. She is a live wire. Yesterday while I was cleaning the bathroom, she went downstairs, got some of Jake's tools and took a part her piano. Completely dissasembled it. That girl needs her own tool bag and something cheap she can destroy with no strings attached.
Sometimes it may seem that I only blog about Grace because she has done something crazy and that is why I go so long in between posts...I am just waiting for her to act. Ha HA! What a joke. That girl never stops. For instance, three days ago she drew measles in semi-permanent marker or her friends face. Yep. All over his cute little face were little red dots. And the grin on her face could've melted your heart.
All in all, I live with a crazy, cute, loveable, poop lovin, 5 year old that makes me smile:)
