We've been working on getting Reed to stop saying "hate." We teach him it's not okay to ever say hate when talking about a person. Then I made the mistake of telling him it was only okay for him to hate things, like cancer or war.
And so, at least five times a day: "Mommy, guess what? I HATE cancer and war." Except he pronounces war like "whirl" so all day, it's "I hate cancer and whirl! I JUST HATE cancer and whirl!"
Reed is going through a terribly fussy clothing stage and will only wear comfy cotton pants with an elastic waist. Skyler still lets me dress her, but Reed pitches a fit if I don't let him wear "comfies." He has only 2 pair that he's happy with, so last week they were both in the wash and I wrangled him, screaming at me, into regular pants. When he was dressed, he sat down in the corner and glared at me. After a minute he said:
"Well, I don't like your hair!"
When I snuggle with Reed in his bed, or when he comes into our bed in the morning, he is constantly whispering to himself under his breath. He goes on and on, talking to himself, and it's usually gibberish. He is usually hard to understand, but I always try to hear what he's saying. My previous favorite was when he cuddled into me and mumbled to himself: "Oh, what's the point?" ???
But this week, he said very quietly to himself, while next to me in bed: "My father is not crazy. He's a genius." And then, just to make it absolutely clear I wasn't dreaming he said: "I told you, my father is not crazy. He's a genius!" Is this a line from a movie that Reed might have seen? Seriously, is it?
And now, the many faces of Skyler:
And this one: "Mom? What is that thing that makes sentences more exciting?" "You mean exclamation points?" "Yes!"