Our Bucket

Not the best picture ... but, hey! It was taken by a four-year-old, what do you expect??

Bucket is developing quite the vocabulary.

She bosses her brother about as well as I do.

*chasing after her brother* "Come back here, Bruise!"

She tells me what I am and am not allowed to do.
"No eat [Bucket] hair, Mom. No."
"No tickle my belly."

She watches and critiques films, as shown with the conversation we had earlier while watching Enchanted:

Bucket: Girl SAD, Mom.
Me: Oh, Bucket, I don't know that she's sad. She's actually happy. ... She may be conflicted.
Michael: *joking* Bucket, can you say "Conflicted?"
...
Bucket: Girl dancing!
Me: Yes, she IS dancing. Do you want to dance?
Bucket: Yeah, Mom. Yeah, I dance.
Me: Do you want to dance with boys?
Bucket: Yeah, Mom. Yeah. I dance. I dance with boy.
Me: *pause* Are you going to kiss boys? *looks to Michael as Bucket responds*
Bucket: Yeah! I kiss. AND hug. Boys.
Me: *mentally* Oh. My. Holy. Crap. We've got to lock her up NOW.

But, overall ... she talks well. She impressed most of the family we had up this weekend since she's actually talking to them. Before, well, I guess that she would only talk in the softest tones of a delicate whisper ... I am guessing so that she wouldn't make any mistakes in front of them. She's gained some confidence. I know that both Bucket and Bruise are talking more in nursery.

But, oh, if that girl of mine doesn't nap tomorrow? I may be making an order for two toddler-sized straitjackets.

You only THINK that I'm joking.

As much as I love my girl, she gets superclingy and VERY whiny when she doesn't take a nap. And it gives me a bit of a headache because her whine is at the EXACT. RIGHT. FREQUENCY that pierces my eardrums and goes through my brain like a lightning-hot, briar-covered rod of pain.

It's a good thing that she's cute. And generally well-mannered. And overall very sweet.

And that she makes me laugh.
"No, Mom. No eat [Bucket] hair" indeed.

Now if I can get her to stop chomping on her brother.
(I bit her today. Didn't leave half the mark she left on Bruise. But, oh, did she scream. She did not like that one bit. Let's hope this lesson sticks. 'Cause even though she's not bad-tasting, I don't want to repeat this.)

But she still loves me. Bless her little, forgiving heart. And her sweet Bucket-scented, delicious hair.

(No, I'm not REALLY eating it. But it's entertaining to pretend to while she demands that she sits on my lap, interfering with my typing. *melodramatic sigh*)