Just say...I stump my toe, "damn it", I mutter under my breath. I break a plate, yup, you know that I mumble...and the list goes on. Until a few says ago, I really jammed my toe...hurt so bad, I was rendered momentarily nonverbal. While I was sitting there trying not to cry, Juliana comes up to me and says, "Just say damn it, Mommy." You can bet I'm not mumbling anything anymore.
Just another day at Target..."Mommy, I got boobs."
"No Juliana, you do not have boobs."
"Yes I do. Right here. I got boobs."
"Juliana, stop talking about boobs."
"Okay, I'll have boobs when I get bigger."
"Maybe. If you're lucky, you'll have boobs. If not, I'll buy you some for graduation."
"Okay, Mommy will buy me big boobs when I get bigger."
"Juliana....puh-leez stop talking about boobs."
The ConfessionJuliana should have been Catholic instead of good ole Southern Baptist. She confesses everything, even stuff I don't really need to know, even stuff that didn't happen.
"I smacked Rylee." (no she didn't)
"I played in Mommy's room."
"I broke the tassle in Sister's room."
So last night, after talking on the phone with Grandma, Juliana says to me, "Mommy, I'm making you a priest." And I thought, "Good luck with that one, little girl!" But instead I said, "Oh really, how am I a priest?" "I confess it all to you, Mommy!" "Good, you better keep it that way, baby."