Around the web, it's not uncommon for people to celebrate "Throwback Thursdays" (or #tbt, for short), where folks share a photograph or a story from years gone by. I often participate solely on my Instagram account, but a few weeks ago I was digging back in my archives of Chookooloonks, and found many stories of Alex as a toddler that I'd totally forgotten. So today, for Throwback Thursday, I thought I'd republish them (with her permission) -- mostly because I don't want to forget them again.
I hope you enjoy them. If stories of toddlerhood aren't your jam, I promise we'll be back to our regularly scheduled Chookooloonks tomorrow.
Sunday, March 12, 2006 (2 years old)
SCENE: Today, about 2 in the afternoon. Karen is crawling around in the bottom of her closet looking for a matching pair of shoes. Enter Alex.
Alex: Hello, Mummy!
Karen (muffled): Hello, Alex.
Alex (suddenly hugging Karen's bottom, enhanced by a little hand-pat): I lahve you, Mummy.
Karen (melting, stopping to return the hug): I love you too, Alex.
Alex pulls out of the embrace, and smiles beatifically at her mother. Karen's eyes tear up, just a little. Alex turns away, and starts to walk out of the room. Suddenly, she stops, facing the wall in front of her.
Alex: I LAHVE YOU, WALL!
Thursday, April 27, 2006
SCENE: Home, morning. Karen is busy getting Alex ready for the day.
Karen (kissing Alex's bare tummy): OOOOH, I LOVE this tummy. It's so yummy! It's so tasty!
Alex (smiling a knowing smile and nodding): Tastes like chook-a-lit.
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
So last night, I was lying on Alex's bed while she was playing with her MegaBloks (sort of like Legos on steroids). Suddenly, without warning, she hurled one of her blocks at my leg, bouncing it neatly off my shin.
The blocks are too small to hurt; however, I couldn't let such behaviour go unaddressed. I looked at her, all prepared to give her my "we don't throw things" speech. As I opened my mouth, my little cherub of a two-year-old looked at me, grinned, and said quietly:
I have no idea where she got that word -- it's certainly not something I say, nor have I ever heard her father say it. All I do know, however, is that This Does Not Bode Well.
Saturday, September 9, 2006
Marcus just came in from a 4-hour bike ride, reeking of sweat and funk and smelling to high heaven. "Oh my GOD!" I exclaimed, sincerely horrified, and directed him immediately to the hose outside.
Alex looked at me seriously.
"Mummy, not 'oh my GOD,'" she said, frowning. "Oh my GOSH."
Monday, September 25, 2006
Ever since Alex has been potty trained, she's been a little disconcerted as to how to relieve herself when we're on the beach, due to (a) the scarcity of public facilities, and (b) the general nastiness of public facilities. And so, like any good mother would, I've been showing her how to go to the water's edge, dip her bum into the small waves, and pee (oh stop, you'd do the same).
On Saturday, while we were at the considerably populated beach in front of our hotel, Alex had to go. I took her to the water, sat her down on her haunches, and she did her thing.
Inspired by her performance, I took her back to her father, and said, "Stay with Daddy. It's Mummy's turn." I returned to the ocean, swam past the breakers, did my business and eventually returned to the shore. When I reached the lounge chairs, Marcus was smiling at me.
"Did you hear your daughter calling you?"
"No, I didn't."
His grin widened.
"While you were out there, your little cherub was screaming loud enough for everyone to hear:
'SQUAT, MUMMY!!! YOU HAVE TO SQUAT!!!'"