Single Ladies at 9 Park Lane

It's always one big dance party at 9 Park Lane. This is a video of Margot and Jane celebrating Margot's newly re-done, VERY pink bedroom. Margot, needless to say, knows all of the words to this song.

MVI_8220, originally uploaded by Carrie Fletcher.

Wise Beyond Her (Three) Years

Our super nanny just relayed the following conversation. And yes, Jane drinks coffee even though she is only three. We try to limit it to decaf, at least. But we're not quite sure where she picked up the lingo about having cash on oneself.

Jane: ''Lindsay, do you have any cash on you?'
Lindsay: '''Yes, Jane. Why?''
Jane: ''Okay. Can we go to JP Licks and you share your coffee with me?''

Now Playing at 9 Park Lane

Our YouTube obsession continues. Here's this week's favorite video, which is required viewing at least two (if not three) times per day:

One Smart Caterpillar

When Don recently noticed that his cell phone was missing, he instantly had a suspect in mind. As he was searching for the phone, Jane (who was - again - wearing her bright green caterpillar costume) wandered in.

Don: "Jane, do you know where my cell phone is?"
Jane: "I’m not Jane, I’m caterpillar."
Don: "Caterpillar, do you know where my phone is?"
Jane: "She doesn’t talk."

Hope & Change

Don just emailed me this image, with a note reading "What could our own little Obama girl want more . . . than a candidate who's also a dancing car?" He's right. This image truly represents the perfect marriage of Jane's previously-unrelated interest in (a) President Obama and (b) transforming, dancing vehicles.

All I can say is, what a find. Not bad for a guy who's almost 40. :)

That WOULD be Bad

Margot, being an incredible drama queen, was recently howling and sobbing over a lost toy. After 10 straight minutes of this, having lost my patience with her, I said, "Margot! Losing a toy is not something that should make you hysterical. There are many things that are worse than misplacing a Polly Pockets doll, so stop all this fussing and whining." The sobbing immediately ceased, and Margot commented in a somber voice, "Right, Mommy - like dying. Dying is the worst thing that could ever happen to anyone, isn't it?" As I pondered how to respond, the following dialogue ensued:

Claire: "Dying is not the worst thing that could happen to someone."
Margot (stares at Claire in shocked silence)
Margot (with disbelief): "What?! What's worse than dying?"
Claire (darkly): "Being born in HELL."

When I Grow Up

Tonight Margot and I were talking about what she would be when she grows up - or, more specifically, I was meant to guess what she would be when she grows up. I thought my first choice (an actress) dead on, but I was wrong. That suggestion, while was met with interest, was ultimately rejected. Doctor, scientist, teacher, and lawyer all met the same fate. After a long pause, Margot said, "Mommy, what I really want to be when I grow up is a magical bunny. And I will never want to stop being a magical bunny. Because I really love bunnies."

Common Knowledge

Claire: "Mom, can you tell me everything you know about Bikini Atoll?"
Me: "I don't actually know that much about it."
Claire: "Then just tell me the part that you know."
Me: "Well, Bikini Atoll was a nuclear testing site many years ago."
Claire: "It was a nuclear testing site in the 1940s and the 1950s. But was it American and British nuclear testing? Or just American?"
Me: "Um, I'm not really sure."
Claire (with exasperation): "Okay. What do you know about frequent explosions?"
Me: "I don't actually know a lot about frequent explosions either."
Claire: "Mom, can you just tell me everything you know about frequent explosions?"
Me: "What kind of explosions?"
Claire (with resignation): "Never mind, Mom. But you really should know about these things if you want to be a grown-up."

Deep Thoughts

Claire: "Mommy, I'm really going to try to be ordinary. I think it will keep the vampires out of my head."

Potty Talk

We were recently at our local bakery when Jane announced that she had to go potty. We headed to the bathroom, and she proceeded to cheerfully sit on the toilet doing nothing. As the minutes ticked by, I encouraged her to hurry up - but there was no rushing the process. Finally, after about 10 minutes, she turned around to peer into the toilet (on which she was still sitting).

Jane: "Look! A mommy poo and a baby poo are in there!"
Me (noncomittally): "Hmm."
Jane: "You see them?!"
Me: "Are you read to go now?"
Jane: "No. I'm not done pooping."
Me: "Jane, can you hurry up? I think people are waiting to use the bathroom."
Jane: [silence]
Me: "Jane, can you please finish going potty?"
Jane: [silent, but with a look of intense concentration]
Me: "Janie? Let's go, honey."
Jane (shouting): "Hooray!! The daddy poo is coming out!!"
Me: [silence]