The White Rabbit

When Caroline was three, she was very well spoken and eloquent for her age, but some words or phrases still escaped her and she was totally capable of completely butchering these and then memorizing the carcass of the said word or phrase, incorporating it into her vocabulary in its new and improved form.

One of those butcherings came as a result of something she heard in Disney's Alice In Wonderland.

The White Rabbit says, over and over, "I'm late! I'm late! For a very important date!"

But apparently there was a disconnect between what her little ears heard and the way her three-year-old lips could perform the imitation. Her version came out as:

"I'm yate! I'm yate! A-ponna-monna-date!"

So, one of the days on which we were driving the 5 hours down to see my parents, Calvin looked at his watch and said, "Oh, hey, we told your parents we'd be there at --- and I think we're going to be late."

At which point Caroline chimed in helpfully from the back with "I'm YATE! I'm YATE! A-Ponna-Monna-DATE!"

And I gently corrected her, pronouncing each word very slowly and deliberately, "Caroline, honey, it's A VERY IMPORTANT DATE."

FYI: Correcting this kid has never been easy, even on a good day. She drew herself up to the full height she could achieve in her car seat straps and snapped, "That's what I SAID, mommy! A-PONNA-MONNA-DATE!" .

Like, duh!

And she crossed her little arms over her chest and stuck her nose in the air in the direction of the window where she didn't have to look at us trifling, meddling people.

We still do laugh about and use this term of hers. Frequently on the way out to work, Calvin will remind me that he's "yate for a-ponna-monna-date".

And seriously, how hot is a man who has ponna-monna dates?!

I know, ladies. But, hands off. He's mine.

Mother, Painfully Out Of Touch

This afternoon, I was driving Caroline home after her piano practice and I remembered to ask her if she wanted to go to the Sock Hop tomorrow night, where her Dad has been recruited to play Elvis to entertain the kids.

"Yes", she said. "I want to go, even though it's much too late to ask anyone to go with me."

Of course, a "date" hadn't crossed my mind, but I wanted to show that I'm taking her seriously, so I replied,

"Well, that's OK, right? I mean, if you go by yourself, you can dance with whomever you please. That's good thing, huh?"

"Mom!" *sigh* "I don't dance at all!"

"Really? Then why are you going TO A DANCE?"

She gives me this look that most mothers know. You know, the one that says, "You are so OLD and still, YOU KNOW NOTHING." But she condescends to answer me anyway.

"I go for the root beer floats, of course!"



..

The Seemingly Unimportant Moments Are My Favorites

So I'm sitting here on the sofa, checking email, doing homework, pondering why Germany has only one season these days...
...and the silence is broken by a tiny voice in another room.

"Baby Beluga! Baby Beluga! Is the water warm? Is your momma home with you? So happy!"

She's supposed to be sleeping, but she's singing her contentment instead. I'm not even going to stop her, because this? These are the moments I live for. These are the moments that make everything else worthwhile.

And it makes me think of others of those moments throughout her life. Little things she said here and there that were funny or touching or just memorable for whatever reason.

In particular, something that Calvin and I reminisced about the other day was when Caroline was just learning to talk and she was having a lot of trouble with prepositions.

She used to walk up to me if I was sitting on the sofa and say, "Ma-ee, I going to sit at you, OK?"

Or "Da-ee I going to dance by you."

Or she'd take his hand and say "Can I walk on you?"

Well, OK, maybe that last one wasn't a mistake at all.