precocious

Aviana was helping me make the bed. She said something that sounded like, ” I just have to finish fluffing these pyramids.”

I knew that couldn’t possibly be what she said, so I made her repeat herself five times or so. Finally she gave up on my obtuseness, and just said she had to finish fluffing the covers. I stopped what I was doing, paid close attention to her, and asked her one more time.

She pinched the duvet cover between her thumb and forefinger, pulled just that spot up into the air, so the rest of the cover looked indeed like a pyramid!

“See? Wite dis, Mama!”

Of course~

**************************************
We got an odd spring snow storm. At least that was the prediction, we only ended up with a dusting. I was telling Aviana about the weather forecast, and she responded to me with great concern:

“The tows and talves better stay in the bawrn. If dey tum out into the snow, dey will be TOLD!”

**************************************
Aviana was spinning around and around. Finally she fell down, and although she was seated and stationary, her eyes were still rolling around in her head, and her head was still moving a little, and I looked at her and laughed.

I said, “I think someone’s a little dizzy!”

She said, “I fink it’s me!!” and toppled over.
***************************************
I put a blanket over the back of my bar stool. Aviana asked me why I did so. I told her there was a draft coming in from the summer kitchen, and the blanket would help block the draft.

She looked at me oddly, mulled this over for a bit, and responded in a tone that clearly showed she thought my cheese had slipped off my cracker, and said, “There’re no giraffes around here!”

**************************************
I’m in the process of training Aviana to stay in her room for some Quiet Time each afternoon. Some days go better than others, and she will almost immediately begin to play independently and won’t pester me constantly to be let out.

Let’s just say that today was not one of those days. She was whining and fussing, complaining and cajoling, trying to put just her head or her foot across the threshold of her room, asking me every two minutes if her Quiet Time was over.

Brielle crawled into her room, where Aviana was decidedly not quiet, and I heard her holler at her baby sister, “No! No! Bweee-elle–you tan’t be in here! I’m having my Quiet Time!”