Haylenisms

“Daddy, you need to mow our grass.  It’s getting taller and taller like a mountain.”

“Mommy, may I have a sip of your water?  I’m thirsty!  I just gotta stay hydrated.”  Seriously!?!  Hydrated!?!  What two year old uses the word hydrated?  Oh yeah, ours!  She uses the word quite frequently and correctly.

“Mommy, I hiked up my pants.  I look like Urkel”                                                       The kid has no idea who Urkel is.  All she knows is that I had made a comment once, a while back, when she pulled up her pants a bit too high that she looked like Urkel.  Apparently, she took that comment, stored it away, and decided to pull it back out at that football game.  It blows my mind what this child remembers.


Haylen – “Mommy, did you say awesome???”
Me – “Yes”
Haylen – “ I say that all the time!!!”
(My Goodness!  Two going on teenager!)

“Mom, the sun is coming up over my favorite planet!  EARTH!!!”

Haylen – “Daddy what’s your buddy’s name?”
Daddy – “Charlie Matzig
Haylen – “That’s a funny name.  Let’s name him something else.” 
(Sorry Charlie!!!  The new name she came up with was “Boobie Chachi Aggie.”  Not sure that’s much better…)

While looking in the mirror while brushing her teeth, she stops, points to one of her perfect spiral curls, and says, “Mommy, my hair is round like tornado!”

“Look Mommy!  I made a circle out of my okras!”                                                  When your mom is a teacher, you don’t get in trouble for playing with your food for educational purposes.


In her very best exhausted and weary voice with an expression to match, she proceeds to tell us, (insert dramatic sigh here) “I need a holiday!”                                             Oh my!  Is she British!?!  She needs a holiday! (Thanks Peppa Pig)  Her dad and I then had to break it to her that she’s pretty much on holiday every day. Ha!  She is now referring to Santa as Father Christmas, as well.  Before we know it she’ll be speaking with an accent! 


While driving out to gymnastics…
Haylen - “Daddy, watch out for hawks. My Daddy hits hawks all the time.” 
Daddy – I do not.  I only hit one!
Haylen – No (shaking her head with quite a convincing look on her face)
Daddy – (insert sarcasm here) Well how many have I hit?
Haylen – (counting on her little fingers)  “One, two, three, four.  You hit four!!!”
A little back story… On the way back from eating at M. Beaux’s one night, we hit a hawk.  Well, more accurately that hawk hit us.  That sucker flew right into the front of our Tahoe and there wasn’t a darn thing we could do about it.  We even have a little dint on the front our hood to prove it.  Ever since then, Haylen swears her dad hits hawks all the time, and she reminds him of it every chance she gets. LOL!



Anytime baby Hollyn starts to fuss Haylen will tell us:  “Mommy, we’ve got a feisty britches on our hands!” 

Here’s another one for you.  As I’m typing this post, Haylen points to the picture above and says, “Hey, that’s me and feisty britches!” Yup, it sure is!


We had just left Cane’s with our lunch and were driving away when I hear this from the backseat:
Haylen – “Mommy, I want to go to the little devil place.”
Me – Did you just say you want to go to the little devil place???
Haylen – Yeah!  They have beans, and tacos, and rice, and chips!!!
Oh, Torchy’s, apparently you’ve won our daughter’s heart.  For a split second I was a little curious about where exactly she wanted to go…

Clean-up on Aisle 6

Last Tuesday, the girls and I ventured out to the grocery store to pick up some much needed supplies for dinner.  It was just your everyday run of the mill shopping trip until we hit the dairy aisle.  It was there that my sweet, laid back, I don’t just cry for the heck of crying, youngest child started to fuss.  As I leaned over the edge of the shopping cart to grab her binky, I smelled it.  Yup.  She pooped her pants. 

Now for those of you who know, or have met, our sweet baby Hollyn, you’re probably cracking up right about now because you know exactly where this story is headed.  For those of you who are not familiar with our child, please let me explain.  You see, Hollyn really dislikes…okay, dislikes doesn’t even do it justice…hates…well, hates may not even be a strong enough word…the child despises a dirty diaper.  Ha!  I wish I could call every diaper I change dirty!  By the way she lets you know about it, you’d think that diaper couldn’t possibly hold anymore.  Nope.  Wrong.  The slightest smear or smidgen of poo will send her over the edge.  Now as soon as you change her she’s happy as a clam…that is until she decides she really wasn’t finished, she just needed a clean diaper to dirty up again. 

Now back to the story at hand.  By the whiff I smelled, I knew that there was more than a smidge of poo in that diaper and knowing my child we could very well reach a nuclear meltdown of epic proportions if the situation was not handled carefully and soon.  I tried to quiet her with her binky to buy a little more time but to no avail.  As I’m trying to steer the cart, attempting to hold her binky in her mouth and weigh my options all at the same time, I realize that I can’t go to the restroom to change her with my basket full, and there was no way she was gonna make it through checking out without causing quite the scene, not to mention I wasn’t done shopping yet!  So I made the executive decision to go ahead and change her on the least busy aisle I could possibly find.  Don’t judge.  Desperate times call for desperate measures.

Well, the makeup aisle was pretty deserted so I figured that was about as good a spot as any.  (A quick little side story here:  Before going to the grocery store, I told Haylen that we could look for some Christmas nail polish.  Looking back now, I probably shouldn’t have done that.)  So, while I’m attempting to change the diaper of a wiggling and wailing child who is about as feisty as feisty comes, Haylen is picking up nail polishes at breakneck speed trying to show me each of them and excitedly saying, “Is this a good Christmas color?  What about this one?  Mommy. MOMMY!  What about this one???”  So, as I’m trying not to get poop everywhere or have little bit decide that maybe she wasn’t done yet and blast me with another round (I say this from experience), I’m also praying that our oldest doesn’t drop the cherry red GLASS nail polish bottles she keeps picking up at breakneck speed to show me.  Trust me, I had quite the three ring circus going on.  In the middle of our little escapade, a college aged girl walks down the aisle.  Once she realizes the crazyness she just walked up on, I notice she tries her best not to look and makes her way through the aisle pretty darn quickly (I’m like 90% sure she decided to forego whatever it was she needed on this aisle).  But honestly, who could blame her!  We must have looked like quite the spectacle! 

Now I have to say that in the moment, I was a little mortified to be changing my baby girl in the middle of the makeup aisle, but I got over it pretty quickly.  As a mom, sometimes you just gotta do what you gotta do, and if that means changing your daughter in a carseat that is sitting in a shopping cart in the middle of the makeup aisle, so be it.  By the way, let me tell you that is no easy feat, those changing conditions were less than ideal.


But for this face, who could say no!?!