Veronica's current favorite movie is Chicken Little, which didn't get very good reviews but I actually like it. It has a good story and the voice casting was excellent; the animation could've been better, but I've been spoiled by Pixar.

She's learned two things as a result of this film that just melt my heart (too long to explain if you haven't seen the film, just go rent it if you want to figure it out!)

1. She can sing "Don't Go Breaking My Heart."

Which is adorable, because it's in her little squeaky voice and the only words she knows are:

Don't go break my heart
Couldin if I try
Wooo wooo
Knows
I down
I was de clown

But man, does she belt those bits out. :-)

2. After her first of several viewings, she has added "Oh, snap!" to her lexicon. And lemme tell ya, I don't think there's anything much cuter out there than your not-quite-3-year-old daughter emphasizing a point, in her little baby voice, with "Doh, NAP!" The first time she said it, Jason and I laughed so hard that I'm surprised the car didn't veer off the road. Especially since she realized she had made a funny and just kept repeating it over and over while giggling. Too funny.

Not related to Chicken Little at all, but still amusing, is how she's now playing with her fingers as if they're dolls. Her thumb is Audri, the index is Mommy, the pinkie is baby (naturally), and sometimes she switches them around so one of them is "Eye-Cra" (which is still what she calls herself, even though we know for a fact she can say "Ver-ron-eee-ca.") It's cute, but I'm halfway expecting her to start bending her index finger only and muttering "Red rum, red rum!" Which would be disconcerting, to say the least.

And she's trying the potty some more, successfuly peeing in it a couple nights ago and trying for a poop last night. Here's hoping the trend continues, because up until recently, I don't think she's quite understood the point. At the very least, I think Jason's little chat last night helped, as he pointed out that she's the only one in the house in diapers. "Even Janus uses a potty," he said, and uncovered the litter box so Veronica could get a good look. This impressed her greatly. Which means she'll either start using the potty or we're going to catch her squatting over the litter box one day. (sigh) Why do I fear both will be the correct answer?

Today Veronica decided that her rock collection would best be stored in the left-side sofa cushions. Tonight when I tried to clean them up, she vehemently protested. So I guess that's where they belong now. At least, until she goes to bed.

Oooooo-kay, then.

Jason figured out a solution to our medicine woes: He mixes the amoxicillin into her lemonade. It takes her a while, but she always finishes it.

*whew*

You know, it's good to have a child who has her own mind. Except when you're trying to medicate her.

She's on amoxicillin for her strep throat but hates the taste. So every time we need to give it to her, a battle ensues. All the following elements are present: Screaming, flailing, more glass-shattering screaming, going limp, going stiff, protests of "I no wike dat! Let me go! Not 'til waiter!" at high volume, holding arms down from pushing the medicine syringe from her mouth yet again, holding legs down to stop vicicious kicking.....

Then one of us squirts the medicine in her mouth and hopes for the best. In vain, I might add.

The best we've ever done was by holding her mouth shut afterwards; even though she didn't spit any out, she started choking and we were convinced it'd went into her lungs and felt like hell. In an attempt to not be the world's worst parents, we've since abandoned that idea, which now results again in her spitting the medicine out and more flailing, resulting in pink sticky liquid on the following items so far:

Her hair
Her face
Her clothes
Her teddy bear
Her stuffed giraffe (aka "Baby Jaguar", which is what she calls it sometimes.)
Her SpongeBob towel
My clothes
My hands
Jason's clothes
Jason's hands
Our feet
The floor (where we must keep Janus away, because I'm pretty sure this isn't good for kitties.)

Tonight Jason snuck the medicine into a chocolate shake from Steak N' Shake. She still had to be coerced and bribed to drink it. We're considering taking her to the doctor; my co-worker Stephanie, who has a son who's about 7, said he's been getting penicillin shots for his numerous cases of strep throat over the years. At any rate, what's going on now isn't good for any of us. It upsets all of us, gets things messy, possibly puts Janus in danger, and worst of all, we can't guarantee that she's actually getting the proper dosage with her spitting and flailing and all.

There's got to be a better way of doing this, at least until she takes her medicine without a fight. I'm thinking several years for that one...

OK, I can't believe I forgot this:

You like to think your kid is special, that she's way different than others her age. But some things are a constant:

1. Irrational fears;
2. Lack of inborn empathy; and
3. Amusment at bodily functions.

And I can sum up all three of these observations in one story.

Last night Veronica was too afraid to go to bed, claiming monsters would get her. The monsters live in the closet, under things, in the shadows - she's never specific, they're just going to "get" her, or her toys (which she actually seems more concerned about.) So she wanted our cat, Janus, to be shut in there with her, as Jason once pointed out that he has claws and pointy teeth and would never let a monster "get" her.

Jason pointed out that Janus couldn't stay in the room with her all night. "He'd poop on the floor," Jason said, "because he couldn't get to his potty. It would make him unhappy. He'd cry." And let's face it, a cat that can't get to its litter box WILL let out something resembling a cry, and would be pretty damn unhappy about the whole situation.

Right after Jason tells her this, she calls for me and I open her bedroom door. And who should run in but Janus. To which Veronica sits up in bed and gleefully exclaims:

"Dere Jan-uss! He gonna cry! Here come da poopy! He gonna poopie now!"

Good lord.

Fortunately, it all turned out OK, as we assured her that Janus was patrolling the room and left on his own accord moments later because it was safe (and not for the more accurate reason of, nothing for him to eat or destroy in there.) Just saying, my kid's just like a lot of other kids in these accounts.

(sigh).

Sorry for the lack of updates, but we've been...stressed.

Saturday saw a play date at our house for Veronica and Audri. They had a very good time. Probably the cutest was when they said monsters were after them and ran around the house shrieking. I know, sounds awful, but I guess you just had to be there.

Veronica woke up at 4:30 a.m. Monday morning, though, with a fever and complaining of a sore throat. She threw up shortly thereafter, and I stayed at home with her. At 5:30 her fever was at 104 degrees, so I gave her some children's ibuprofen and took her to the local pediatric urgent care. That was fun. :-P

Jason stayed home with her yesterday and was home when the results came in from the doctor: She has strep throat. So we started her on antibiotics last night and Rita, a lady we know through Debbie who's watched Veronica on several occassions, is babysitting her today.

That's the fun we've been having in our house. More, and hopefully more in the way of amusing anecdotes, later.

Well, we had a couple strange phrases spoken in Chez Warren today, and both of them involved bodily functions. Wheeee...

First off, we're upping the potty ante, as Veronica's beloved friend Audri got moved up to the next preschool class today, because (1) she is three and (2) she is potty-trained. Veronica is now quite anxious to become a "Polar Bear" so we had some potty time this evening.

However, Veronica was quite perturbed that the little plastic plush seat got a bit wrinkled once she sat on it. I smoothed it out. Then she didn't want to sit there again, leading me to have to assure her:

"You're not going to hurt the potty if you sit on it."

Cue loud laughter from Jason in the living room.

The second lovely little phrase came from Veronica herself. It's a bit embarrassing for me to admit this, but we were playing in her room and I farted. And it was nasty. (Hey, like I'm something special here - it happens to all of us!) I apologized to Veronica for the bad smell. "Do you smell that? I'm sorry," I said. To which she responded:

sniff, sniff
"I have fart in my nose!"

Cue more laughter from Jason in the living room. And frankly, I'm still laughing over that.

I can't even begin to describe her re-enactment of Swiper the Fox from Dora stealing things with her toys - but I'll try anyway. She couldn't find either of her Swiper figures, so she took a large plastic toy cake and pretended he was hiding underneath of it. So the cake would accost other toys and pretend to take their shoes, throw them (which you knew because Veronica actually said "Throw!"), and say "You're too wate! You never find shoes now!" And if you've seen the cartoon, you'll see how funny this was. Jason about died.

She's now playing with balls and blocks with Jason, running around wearing her Dora big girl underpants (so far, a couple hours and no accidents. She's so stubborn, we're trying anything at this point.) We're having a good evening. And a rather comical one, as well. :-)

It's late but I wanted to take note of Veronica's temper. When she approves of something, she's pretty nonchalant about it. But when she disapproves, she's downright vehement.

Let's say she's playing with her Fisher Price Little People - which she calls her "peoples" - and you tell her it's time for bed. This is something you might hear:

NO!

I no want to!

Not 'til waiter!

Not yet!

I pway peoples!

Leave my 'wone!

I no so happy you!"

And so on, and so forth. (Although Jason may break in and say "It's 'leave ME alone', Veronica. If you're going to tell us off, do it right.")

It gets frustrating, because lemme tell ya, she means it. Kicking, screaming, and the like will follow if you try to force the issue - although persuasion and persistence usually pays off the best. But what's really bad is how her little lower jaw sticks out, or she starts pouting, or her lips scrunch up like a pissed-off Donald Trump. She's ready for war, but I'm about to pee myself laughing. And that's what makes the frustration so tolerable. Sure, it's a fight to get anything done, but she's just so darn cute that you really don't care.

(Well, at least you don't care LATER.)

:-)

Veronica has two little phrases that Jason and I each find adorable. I had to note them for posterity.

First, my favorite: Veronica will look through photo albums, and she has the same moniker for both her first birthday party and a rather posh wedding we attending over a year ago: Cake party. "Dat a cake party!" she'll exclaim. Where on Earth she heard that, I don't know, but to know that, in the eyes of a toddler, some rather fancy nuptials have been reduced to an excuse to eat cake is just funny. But it's any time she sees anything that involves more than one person and something resembling a cake. It's a "cake party." I love it.

Jason's favorite phrase is, admittedly, much cuter. It's the word Veronica uses for the stuff she brushes her teeth with. It is called....

Tooth-Taste.

Jason is actually dreading the day she starts saying it correctly. And as the stuff she uses is actually a fluoride-free gel, and she likes the taste of it, it's a rather more accurate description.

I suppose if you've eaten too much at the cake party, you need to use the tooth-taste. At least for now. ;-)

This is totally a Jason thing:

Veronica has some rubber duckies - a big one in a Santa hat, and two babies, one with a pink pin on its diaper, the other with a blue one. She also has this toy octopus that has tentacles you can detatch and reattatch. Trust me, this is all coming together momentarily:

While playing with her toys tonight, she had one tentacle become a "monster" that was trying to eat one of the baby duckies. And when Jason, playing with the bigger "mommy" duckie, tried to rescue the little one, Veronica stopped him. She wanted the monster to get the baby duck.

Good. Freakin'. Lord.

So Jason and Veronica are playing now, as the mommy duckie changes the baby duckie's diaper before he goes off to be devoured again by a monster. I told Jason, "this is all you, babe" and left to play on the computer. Which brings us to now, and my utterance of "Good. Freakin'. Lord."

Veronica is totally Jason's kid. No doubt about it. :-P

Veronica has pinkeye again, and still has a nasty cough. She hates her eyedrops, even though she loves the blown-up photo of bacteria that now serves as the wallpaper on our computer. She sees the picture and says "Dat what eye drops kill!", proving that she's listened to Jason's little science lesson but hasn't exactly put it into theory. Or maybe she LIKES the idea of little creatures living on her eyeballs, even if they're causing her eyes to hurt. She does like monsters...

I wanted to write today about something unrelated to Veronica's health, just one of her little idiosycransies that I thought to be normal - or didn't think of at all, actually - until I heard and saw otherwise. It's nothing big. It's just this: You will rarely, if ever, see Veronica without something in her hands. It's usually a toy, sometimes something large, like her bear, or sometimes something small, like her 4-inch-tall Dora dolls or the like. If it's something small, you can bet she has more than one. Sometimes she crams as many toys as she can into her hands, and will ask you to hold them if she needs to free her hands up for something else (like a beverage or something of greater interest.) If toys are not available, or just not interesting her at the moment, it will be something else. Straws. Rocks. Marker caps. Crayons. Whatever it is, she's got to have SOMETHING in her grip. Just wanted to mention it so I don't forget it.

One result of her hand-held hoarding is a nice little combination that she does now with the marker caps and the crayons: She sticks the crayon into an upside-down cap, then sticks another one on top. Now the crayon's wearing "a dress" or "pants," along with a hat. (She designates what they're wearing, I can't see the rhyme or reason in it yet.) But more importantly, now she can carry more stuff at once. It's adorable, and like most things about Veronica, it's confusing if you think about it. Best not to do so, and just enjoy her little eccentricity while it lasts. :-)