Sunday, January 19, 2014

Super duper

Ever a flair for the dramatic, when Elizabeth doesn't get her way (which happens a lot when you are four-years-old and want to lay in Mama's bed with blankies and paci, watching movies and drinking a never ending supply of milk all day), she hurls a new tool in her arsenal my way.  Through the biggest alligator tears she can muster and with all the sadness and disappointment she can find, she tells me that I have, in fact, "hurt her feelings super duper bad."  I almost fall for it; she is extremely convincing that her life is over since I will not let her wear the dirty purple shirt for the third day in a row.  

I feel I need to qualify a little something.  Super duper is a big deal in our house.  You might say it is a super duper big deal.  (Too far?) 

When things are going swimmingly, we are having super duper a lot of fun.  She loves me super duper much, and I am the best super duper Mama.  

And just like that, she can flip the switch and turn our super duper fun into a super duper big puddle of tears. 


Oh, this girl.  I love you so super duper much I can scarcely super duper believe it.   
 

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