The World According to Tater Tot!

We never know what Tater is going to come up with - so we are very hesitant in how we react to her comments and questions. We are also very careful in how we word the questions we ask her! Here are two of her latest thoughts:

Every night, Daddy and I check on "our kids" before we go to bed. It's always a challenge to figure out where Bruiser Boy is in his crib in the semi-darkness. Tater usually needs to be re-covered - and if you read the previous post, she knows if we don't check on her! So last night we went through the ritual - first Bruiser, then Tater. As I was fixing her covers, Daddy noticed that her tummy looked lumpy (yes, lumpy!) under her jammie shirt. I reached under her shirt and pulled out Mommy Lovie! Well, amid quiet snickers, we tried to figure out why Mommy Lovie was under her shirt. I thought maybe she was playing that she was having a baby (a common make-believe topic in our house) and Daddy thought she was hiding Mommy Lovie because I had threatened to take it away during a moment of tension earlier in the evening. This morning I asked her what Mommy Lovie was doing under her shirt, and score one for Momma! - "I was pretending to have a baby, Momma."

This morning I walked down the stairs to find Tater sitting on the couch watching her favorite kids' show, Martha Speaks. For those of you who aren't familiar with the world of kids' shows, Martha Speaks is based on a series of children's books in which the main character, Martha the Dog, eats alphabet soup and can talk. So Tater is sitting there watching her show when I walk through the room, opening the mini-blinds. She looks at me and says "Momma, I can chew my own feet." and proceeds to show me. Now, it was only 7:45 in the morning (and I'm not a morning person!), so I looked at her and kept walking to the kitchen. Once I got there, I suddenly processed what she said and returned to the living room for a second take. Yup, there was Tater sitting on the couch, chewing on her foot - like Martha the Dog! Before I could intervene, Bruiser went over to her and she took one of his favorite books away from him. He started screaming (another thing that is not good that early in the morning) and I told her to give him the book back. Instead of arguing with me, Tater handed the book back, huffed a bit, and said "Fine, I'll just sit here and chew on my foot." I'm not proud - but I had to just walk away!