Phoebe is still on a post-Halloween high. We got home today, she wanted to play dress up, and then she proceeded to never shut up. We were playing the "Hey Mom Pretend This" Game while I was making dinner. You never really have to pretend anything, because she will immediately jump to the next thing that you need to pretend. Here's what was keeping me laughing and crying inside tonight at the same time.
Comes down dressed as ballerina: "Hey Mom! Pretend I'm a ballerina and your a chef!"
5 minutes later
Comes down dressed in some other dress: "Hey Mom! Don't I look like a cheerleader? Pretend I'm your sister and you work in a kitchen and we have a dog. OK?"
2 minutes later
Comes down dressed in cat costume: "Hey Mom! Pretend I'm your cat and I'm hanging out in your kitchen! I'm going to sleep in here."
I turn on some music (our friend Glenn E. Williams, link to his website on the side) as I need to relax from all this chatter that doesn't stop. Phoebe starts dancing around the living room.
"Hey Mom! Pretend we're sisters and I'm taking a dance class and you're taking a cooking class." "Hey Mom! Pretend we're both listening to the same music, but you're listening to the radio. Pretend the toaster is a radio, OK Mom?" "Hey Mom! Pretend we're both at school OK? And the upstairs is our house. We have class downstairs and have our rooms and beds for sleeping upstairs, OK?"
Please tell me there is a cure for this. I think it's turning six, but I'm not sure. I try to tell myself that someday she'll not want to talk to me much and spend most of her time in her room with the door closed. I don't know which scenerio scares me more. I'll go hug her now.
Comes down dressed as ballerina: "Hey Mom! Pretend I'm a ballerina and your a chef!"
5 minutes later
Comes down dressed in some other dress: "Hey Mom! Don't I look like a cheerleader? Pretend I'm your sister and you work in a kitchen and we have a dog. OK?"
2 minutes later
Comes down dressed in cat costume: "Hey Mom! Pretend I'm your cat and I'm hanging out in your kitchen! I'm going to sleep in here."
I turn on some music (our friend Glenn E. Williams, link to his website on the side) as I need to relax from all this chatter that doesn't stop. Phoebe starts dancing around the living room.
"Hey Mom! Pretend we're sisters and I'm taking a dance class and you're taking a cooking class." "Hey Mom! Pretend we're both listening to the same music, but you're listening to the radio. Pretend the toaster is a radio, OK Mom?" "Hey Mom! Pretend we're both at school OK? And the upstairs is our house. We have class downstairs and have our rooms and beds for sleeping upstairs, OK?"
Please tell me there is a cure for this. I think it's turning six, but I'm not sure. I try to tell myself that someday she'll not want to talk to me much and spend most of her time in her room with the door closed. I don't know which scenerio scares me more. I'll go hug her now.
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Emily aka madmommy
Jessie