They always break your heart

I know they will break your heart… I just didn’t know it was so young:

Daughter: You’re so silly, daddy.
Me: I know. Am I funny, too?
Daughter: Uh-huh.
Me: Am I funnier than Timmy?
Daughter: No. Timmy’s funnier.

I guess I need to brush up on my 3-almost-4-year-old humor. More “bum-bum” jokes, I guess.

Personally, I like to believe she is more blinded by love. I came to this conclusion remembering a conversation we had last week sometime:

Me: Anything happen at school today, sweetie?
Daughter: Timmy asked if I would marry him.
Me: Oh. Uhm… what did you tell him?
Daughter: Sure.
Me: Oh. Are you getting married soon?
Daughter: I can’t get married until I’m older, daddy!

Whew.

I like Timmy and all, but I have a feeling my daughter is just hedging her bets for when she is older. I think Timmy is just her fall-back.

Advertisements

BPA

Yeah, yeah, enough about the BPA…

Well, we’ve tried to be good about avoiding the BPA stuff for The Boy. We started with glass bottles, moved the the Green To Grow bottles as the boy grew (and grew, and grew – 97 percentile for height – yowza!) and became more of a chow hound. Went through and tried to make sure all our daughter’s sippy cups were “clean” and all.

Then, the other day, we realized that, when we made a new batch of formula for the baby, we put the powdered stuff in the bottle, added the hot water to the.. uh.. the plastic bottle. Hmm.. that doesn’t sound right. We checked the bottom of the bottle – a dreaded #5 plastic.

So, now we’re on a search for a glass version. We need 32oz, but with the little measuring lines on the side, like our plastic bottles had. Right now, we’re making formula in a 32oz glass measuring cup, waiting for it to cool, then pouring into the plastic.

This is less than ideal. So… if anyone has any suggestions, it would be much appreciated!

For now, we’re trying not to worry. After all, my daughter had all her formula this way and probably got a lot of BPA in her system. And she seems pretty normal– er… oh, crap.

[Update: GeekLady points out to me that #5 is not the bad plastic. I swore I read that somewhere. Maybe I just got my numbers confused. Maybe I should be relying on Z Recommends instead…]

Miley-saurus

My daughter has a blonde wig (to go with the pink and green ones her Aunt gave her) that she likes to wear and say she is Hannah Montana. We don’t watch Hannah Montana at home, so I don’t know where she gets it.

Oh, wait, maybe I do.

Anyhow, it was hi-larious when I put the wig on her nice, wooden rocking horse and called it something like “Horse-y Montana” (hey, you don’t have to have your “A” material for 3 1/2 year olds).

We were talking about this at bedtime last night. My daughter said something about the cat being, “smi… smile… smiley…”

“Miley Cyrus?” I suggested.

“Yeah!” my daughter exclaimed, “Miley-saurus!”

I guess when my daughter is my age, Miley will be a dinosaur. But that’s okay, because by then, Miley’s kid’ll be raking in the dough…

Things My Daughter Taught Me: Comedy

My daughter’s playing three days a week at preschool. Apparently, she’s slayin’ ’em. Her schtick? Apparently, any phrase with “bum bum” in it. Unfortunately, she tries this same comedy act at home, and you can hear the crickets chirping.

On a related note, I hate prop comics. I hate prop comics, yet I have become one. Any toy that results in some physical comedy has my daughter cracking up. She even peed her pants the other day from laughing so hard.

For me, it is a little exhausting. That, and I am running out of material/props. My daughter doesn’t seem to mind. And it is nice having an easy audience. But I am getting bored.

I’m afraid if she gets too bored, Ms. Kaz will have to cover the furniture with plastic sheets. I’m just waiting for watermelon season.

Howdy, Stranger!

Things are finally starting to settle here at work. This is my last scheduled night shift (6p – 2a or so – shh! Don’t tell my boss!), and, hopefully, my kids will get to know me as more than just Morning Guy.

Actually, this past week, while making nights and early mornings tough for Ms. Kaz, has afforded me a bit more time with the kids. My daughter, especially has been excited.

I promised her, once things calmed down, I would take a day off (not yet) and do something fun. “How ’bout we make cookies?” she asked. “Sure,” I said. So, the last few days, she’s been asking me about making cookies. So, today we began making cookies. “Is today your day off, daddy?” It isn’t, but I was home during the day, and the recipe I chose (sugar cookies – yum!) required overnight refrigeration.

We had a lot of fun making the dough. My daughter kept asking if she could try the dough as we added each ingredient. “Not yet,” I told her. The dough kept filling the bowl and filling the bowl. As my daughter enjoyed licking the mixer, I checked the recipe.

Good lord. Servings = 60!!

Well, if anyone wants cookies, let me know. We’ll have plenty.

And hopefully, I’ll be able to post a lot more frequently.