Teagan's Too Much

I have been feverishly taking notes on Teagan's latest and greatest antics, doing my best to document everything funny she does lately. I can't keep up. And I have to accept that. Especially since #2 is getting closer and I already know that I won't document his childhood nearly as well as I've been able to record Teagan's. Of course I'll try, but I'm being realistic. So instead of 100 little posts dedicated to her hilarity, I'm going to summarize and smush a whole bunch of funny stories into one mega-post and hope that it paints a picture of just how awesome this little girl is.

• "Mummy, have check up for Mummy's baby."
• Me: "You all done?" Teagan: "No, I finished." Defiant little stinker.
• "<gasp!> Hear dat?" Whenever there's a strange noise...or a toot.
• "Dat's my bum. It's big."
• "Mummy cwazy!"
• I couldn't figure out what she wanted me to do, so she 'splained: "You swipe, Mummy. <sigh> "YOU do it" and proceeded to demonstrate swiping a basket and running away.
• Reading our tiny Animal World books that talk about 15 different animals, where they live, what they eat, etc. We've read them so many times through, she has some memorized...with a few twists.
• "I Steve the monkey." 
• "I a penguin. My home is <pause> Steve." Apparently "Antarctica was too hard to say."
• "I a lion. I live in Vasana." That's "Savannah".
• She hiked Exploration Peak (a nearby mountain - we took my parents when they were here and verified that it's a mountain) without us, with our friend Natalie and apparently did great.
• "My tummy come out just like yours, Mummy. Teagan little. Mummy big. Teagan's tummy little. Mummy's tummy BIG."
• "It's all right, Mummy. Don't be scared of witch."
• "Look, Mummy! Daddy's awake!" with fingers still on his eyelids from forcibly prying his eyes open.
• "I very sorry, Mummy. Minnie's bow missing."
• We were doing a puzzle together and she put a piece in upside down (yes, we expect great things). I laughed, so she did it at least 4 more times and laughed hysterically every time.
• On the half hour drive to pick up Brandon from work, she filled her little Dora backpack replica over and over again and pronounced, "I have something for you!"
• Daddy: "Boy, you're cute." Teagan: "Yeah, I cute!" Daddy: "And humble, too. Can you say humble?" Teagan: {giggle} "No."
• We were walking home from a friend's house and came upon two hummingbirds feasting on the nectar in their neighbour's garden. She thought they were bugs at first, then I told her they were tin birds. Hummingbirds. "Hunningbird! Scuse me! Scuse me, hunningbird!" I expected one to be scared of the other, but neither seemed afraid at all and we spent at least 15 minutes with them hovering all around us as though we weren't there. It was so sweet.
• I was getting her ready for a nap (that, for t he record, never happened) and looking for the second binkie I had just seen her with. (Yes, she still needs binkies to nap, and requires two of them.) "Where is it?" "I don't know, Mummy. I don't know." I had her on my hip, overturning pillows, looking in drawers and finally gave in, plucking one from the reserve - I don't know how many we've gone through and I refuse to buy more, so you can understand my hesitation. As we are heading up the stairs, she grins and says, "Mummy, I have 3 binkies." "WHERE?!" I demanded. Her grin widened and she lifted her foot to show me the elusive second binkie she's been clutching with a curled toe. Well played, Teagan Richards. Well played.
• I can't remember what I was doing at the time, but I must have been doing well. Teagan ran up to me and said, "You doing much great."
• Mummy, getting ready to leave for the temple: "You're going to sleep at Katie's house tonight." Teagan: "Katie's brave!" Amen.
• "Mummy, your hair is brave." We may need to go over the definition one more time.
• "Daddy's a pwince, Teagan's a pwincess." I asked her what Mummy was. Without missing a beat: "A dwagon." I asked her again a few days later. Same answer. Ouch.
• Your hair is brave - after putting a band she gave me.
• I just moved all of the 4T clothes into her closet. Yes, my not-yet-3 year old is moving into 4T clothes. As fast as I was hanging them in her closet, she was pulling them off the hanger and gasping with delight at her new clothes. "Ooh, so pretty Mummy!"
• She also found a bin of big girl underwear, featuring the likes of Dora and Tinkerbell. "Ooh, Mummy. It's a cute little diaper!" I tried to explain big girl underwear but she couldn't be swayed from the notion that they were diapers.
• Another discovery (she's into everything these days) came in the form of a box of shoes she's outgrown. She insisted on trying them on and when she found out they didn't fit, declared, "Too small. For brother." Anything that is too small for her automatically belongs to brother. He may be wearing a lot of pink.
• She's become a little parrot, repeating everything we say - bad and good. Just a few of the "bad" - Daddy's junk (she kicked him), oh crap, that sucks but the good ones melt my heart - no thanks, scuse me, I yuv you, bless you. A friend was watching Teagan for me and texted me that she was in a room full of people and sneezed, and Teagan (who was only 2) was the only one who said bless you.
• Mummy: "Please don't hit me! It makes me sad." Teagan: "No! It makes you happy!"
• I turned to Brandon the other day after he'd asked Teagan if she wanted to do something. "No, not yet," came her reply. I started to say, "Wow! Can you believe how much she's taken off when it comes to..." {Teagan spat out garbled nonsense for a good 30 seconds}..."vocabulary?" Her timing couldn't have been better.
• While we were colouring a Dora colouring book, out of the blue, Teagan looked up at me and announced: "Caillou's daddy has dangerous ears." The definition of random.
• She started to encroach on my space and so I shoved the oversized colouring book toward her. She got up, came over to me calmly and quietly and said gently, "Get to time out, Mummy." She held my arm softly and told me, "Don't throw." Thinking it was a good opportunity to show her that rules apply to mummies and daddies as well, I obliged and sat in the (teeny) Time Out Chair. She stayed by me and continued to touch my arm. I asked if I was done, she said yes and gave me a hug, which is standard Time Out procedure. Then she started to sing "I Am A Child of God." Not standard procedure, but I wonder if it should be. It was absolutely precious. It eventually morphed into the ABC song, but it was no less adorable. I hope that this was a reflection of how she sees my disciplinary tactics - although I know I'm not always calm and collected like that.

I hope you agree that we have one incredible little girl on our hands. Love her.