Parker and Avery: Partners in Crime

If I could choose a single moment in time to which I'd like to return, it would be somewhere in July 2009. Yes...I would definitely go back in time TWO months. You see, my angel baby was still my angel baby. She was only 17-months old. What a difference a month makes! She hit the 18-month mark, and something in her brain flipped. Why be an innocent observer to the daily commotion in the house when you can be an active instigator and participant! Parker has been slowly teaching her the ropes, and sometime in the last few months, Avery caught on. She can no longer be a time-out observer. She's officially the time-out queen!Don't get me wrong, Parker's definitely still the king of all kings and queens when it comes to time-out. More minutes are spent in the naughty corner these days than either of us would like to admit. But Parker's slowly trying to make the transition from "baby" to "big boy." In July, we had a "Bye Bye Diapers" party. We made up lyrics to "Bye Bye Birdie," made a cake, and watched as he ceremoniously removed the last diaper that will ever touch his bum.

The next step to becoming a Big Boy was starting preschool! So far he loves it! I especially love the new blackmail verbiage in our house..."Big Boys who go to preschool eat all of their vegetables." "Big Boys who go to preschool don't whine and cry about every dang thing." "Big Boys who go to preschool are nice to their little sisters." Blackmail totally works...he's devastated just at the thought of not being a Big Boy, or not getting to go to preschool.In order to be a Big Boy, Parker's spending his spare time teaching Avery the ropes. He's passing on all of his moves...(and let me tell you...his moves are good...) (Ignore the "water" on the front of his pants...I don't think that's water, buddy)Wherever we go, Avery is no longer content to sit in a stroller and watch the action happen. She has to be in on the action. Wheeler Farm is no exception. Watch out cow poop, Avery's coming through!Parker's also teaching Avery to eat her vegetables...and to prove she's eaten them by showing us her green-filled mouth! Nice manners...Parker's taught Avery that she should be the one in charge of what she wears each day, not Mom. Each outfit should include someone in the family's swimsuit. Shorts on the head are always an option.And as much as I'd like to believe that he had nothing to do with my couches being covered with Avery's marker-drawings TWICE in one week, I'm not sure I believe him. How could my precious Angel Baby do something like that? Oh yeah...she's moved on from that angelic phase. She prefers the partner-in-crime title. This girl's gonna seriously give us a run for our money!

And if you need a translation to her cute language, here are a few Avery-isms. This girl does not stop talking!

SHIPPOOT--swimsuit

LOWN--lay down

I LULLOO!--i love you

PAWTER--parker

PAFF--bath

WADA ON--turn the water on

CHEW ME--excuse me (when she or anyone else burps...including Shrek during the movie)

BESS YOU--bless you

I DO IT!!!!--stop helping me! i'll do it!

MINE!!!

HANN--hand (as in--stop carrying me...put me down and hold my hand)

MY SHEET--my seat

SUH-SHINE--(don't sing twinkle twinkle, sing you are my sunshine!)

MY PHONE!

FROGGG--frog (heavy emphasis on the G)

FWY--there's a fly!

DAMMA B--grandma b

NANNU--call nannu

DAPPAW--grandpa

I NONNEE--i'm naughty

POTTY--i want to go potty!

ELMO ON--i want to wear parker's elmo underwear

TEEN-TEE BUM?--stinky bum?

CHANGE A BUMMIE?--change my bummie?

NO DAMMIES--i don't want to wear jammies!

I TUM!--don't leave me...i'm coming!

I LIGHT A MATO--i like tomatoes

TOY-LETT--toilet

FUSH IT--flush it

NONNEE DURL--naughty girl

Letter to Parker in the Year 2020

Dearest Parker,

You have just reached the glorious age of 14. Yes, you've reached this wonderfully awful age when you're too young to drive and date, but too old to be seen in public with your (still 28-year-old) parents.

If you're anything like your (once 14-year-old-with-no-concept-of-frugality) mother, you have an unfortunate taste for expensive clothes. You can't stand the thought of being seen in the same clothes you wore last week. Hopefully you're more like your dad--great taste, but you realize that the number of times a shirt's been worn doesn't determine whether or not it's still a good shirt.

I assume you're still as social as ever. Starting when you were born, you lived for the next party or social gathering. If I told you "no" because I didn't want to spend the money, you'd whip out your penny-filled money jar as the solution to every problem. By now you probably realize that the 200 or so pennies won't actually get you very far. That's right, the fun activities you long to participate in cost money. The clothes you HAVE to have cost money.

Let me take you back to your 3-year old days. The FUNNEST days in the world were the days when I LET you help me clean. Pouring COMET in the bathtub brought exclamations of sheer joy. Actually getting to help scrub and rinse the tub was even better. And what could beat dumping a teaspoon of baking powder into the cookie dough mixture? You were quite the helper. Do you remember the first time I let you help me mop the tile floor? I cringed as you left puddles of icky water all over the floor, but to you it was THE. BEST. DAY. EVER.

So sweet little teenage Parkercito, get that grumpy look off your face, and get to work. If you want my money, you're gonna have to work for it. And no, that REALLY FUN MOPPING EXPERIENCE 11 years ago doesn't count. You were sure cute, though.

Love you,
Mom

If The Shoe Doesn't Fit....

Wear it anyway!