Wednesday, August 18, 2010


I like how she used to say monster. It always came out a little more like munster. It still does if I listen closely, but mostly it has faded and a big girl has started to take shape in the shell that is my Abby.

She used to squeak in her sleep. It was an endearing noise that, like a reflex, would cause me to close my eyes and say a little "thank you" for my sweet angel. She doesn't do it anymore, but on occasion I have squeezed her a little too hard and forced one out of her. Ooops. I confess, it does make me smile.

She likes numbers. So much so that when I went to the doctor yesterday I told the nurse not to say my weight out loud or she would announce it to everyone we know. She knows how old people are. She counts everything: people in a room, chairs in a row, sheets of toilet paper.... Always counting. We've taken up counting backwards; I think she sees the numbers in her head.

She's obsessed with days. She can tell you what day we went to Washington (Saturday), which day we left the cabin (Wednesday), she'll even tell you what day of the week she was born (Thursday).

Out of my mouth you can often hear, why not?, you betcha, get outta here, go away, and when she tells me she loves me, back atcha. I know this because she says these things. She asks why, I ask Why not? She says something I agree with I say You betcha. A mosquito antagonizes me I say, Get outta here. The dog is under my feet every where I turn I say, Go away.... She inappropriately says the last two to her sister.

She tilts her head when she is thinking about something and looks out of the corner of her eyes. It's weird to me. I don't get it. But it's my Abby.

She hates to be sticky.

She faithfully recycles, turns on the night lights in the evening, turns down the beds, gets out toiletries....

She writes letters in the air. All The Time! Mostly Lizzie; the Zs are a dead give away.

She talks about death or God every day. Sometimes both.

She's afraid of jail. If you threaten to call the cops you can talk her out of just about any unwarranted behavior. I discovered this by accident.

She whistles. Self-taught.

She sings. She loves to sing. Often it's whatever is hot on the radio. Sometimes it's a Disney tune. She's fond of The Little Mermaid.

She loves swimming, gymnastics, her grandparents, her imagination, ice cream (but not chocolate), picking cherries, eating cherries, apples with peanut butter, snuggling with her Papa, being tickled, giggling, listening to music, climbing the crab apple tree, drawing, writing, going for walks, holding hands on walks, her sister, her Lizzie Elephant, Massachusetts, Minnesota, and sleeping parties with her mom.

Tonight as I carted her off to bed she said sweetly, "Mommy, you're a nice lady."

Back atcha.

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Fairborn, Ohio, United States
I'm a teacher by trade, writer at heart & mom in every sense of my being. I never considered writing as a profession, but after I got married and began moving around the country, I began sharing my adventures, misadventures & updates through a sort of e-mail newsletter. I found a true passion in unconventional story-telling that has followed me into motherhood.