it's like a 8 story elevator ride...only longer

Today as we were riding the elevator, Elie was asking a billion questions. If I lived in a country where English was the predominant language, public elevator rides would probably terrify me. I never know what is going to come out of her mouth. Luckily, most people can't understand her, not just because they might not understand English...really it's hard to understand Eliot if you speak English, hey, it's hard to understand her if you're her parents. Just ask Rocky, who spent 30 minutes trying to figure out she was asking for him to get her the show, "Speedy Gonzales." It sounded a lot more like, "me go a las." Said real slowly it becomes almost decipherable, but only if there is some heavy pantomime going on.

She's often impossible to understand if English is not your first language. Today in the elevator, every other word was, "Why?" "Why they push that button?" "Why me not at Abe's house?" "Why those people in the elevator too?" "Why he dressed like that?" Since I'm so sure no one can understand her, sometimes if it's a really strange question, I just make up a random answer, like when she asks "Mom, what your favorite potty word?" I say, "Because today is Wednesday and we're going swimming."

Today as she was machine gun firing her "why?"s away, another lady in the elevator started laughing and told me she has a toddler who does that also, but it's a lot funnier when it's another child and you only have to hear them for a short time.

It made me realize how much more I need to appreciate this time in her life. Sure, she does things that drive me crazy, like climbing into my bed in the middle of the night and peeing on my down comforter, but she also does adorable things, like walking around for three days singing "Happy birthday to Amy!" (I also think it's adorable that she woke Rocky up at 2 am, because she just couldn't wait to show him her new dinosaur drawings, but I'm not sure he feels the same way...) I need to enjoy this time with her, because it is going to go fast, not as fast as an elevator ride down eight floors, but I'm sure someday it will seem like it went faster than that.

So back by popular demand (okay, maybe just my brother, Fenton's, demand) here are some more quotes:

"Mom, come here now! Look me pooped a little snowman! And me pooped him a friend."

Rocky: Does your dad have big muscles?
E: No, you have cute muscles.
Awkward silence.
Rocky: Is it your nap time?
(We had a discussion today about who likes to be told they are cute and who doesn't, a little too late for the seven year old boy in the elevator who was told his angry birds shirt was "way cute.")

In Thailand seat belt laws are really lax, basically only the driver is required by law to wear a seat belt. We do try to put the kids in their booster seats, but we also usually drive under 5 kilometers and it takes us 20-30 minutes--that's how slow we're going--so they don't always get buckled. One day when Maberham (what we call Abe and Mary at our house) where buckled and Elie wasn't, the 'magic beat belt' was born (beat belt=seat belt, s sounds at the beginning of words are her kryptonite).

A few days later she unbuckled herself,
Me: Elie get your seat belt on!
E: Me 'ready have my magic beat belt on. My magic beat belt keep me safe.

Luckily, a few days later after leaving a friends house,
E:Aw man! Me left my magic beat belt at Anna's house."

While doing some baking,
E: Mom, how you make applesauce?
Me:You know, when I was a girl like you, my mom and I made applesauce together.
E: When me a little girl like you, my mom let me make applesauce by myself.
Me (sarcastically) Wow. Your mom must be really nice.
E: (sigh) Yeah, she was. Her name was Princessesia.
Me: Hey! I'm your mom!
E: She my mom before you. Her way nice.

And apparently impossible to live up to.
 
E: Mom, Biolet saying potty words.
Me: Oh really. What she saying?
E: She saying 'poo' and 'pee,'  Me not say potty words.
Me: Hmmm.
E: Biolet say they her favorite potty words.

And a little Violet, who has learned that smiling at you, makes you smile back. She's impossible not to smile back at, even during middle of the night feedings. 

 

And yes, her hair always looks like this.

In rereading I see that there is a lot of talk of poop and pee, I apologize, but that's kind of what our house is like right now.

if we were applying to your country, you'd let us in, right?

I'm applying for schools for Elie, it sounds a lot more pretentious than it is, I promise. Basically the Pre-K has the same application process as the older grades. I don't think they actually turn down 3 year-olds because of grades or test scores. Well, hopefully not as Elie received a "needs work" in holding scissors and resolving problems with logic. Not to mention she thinks writing does not have to be linearly, instead she chooses to write her name in a collage fashion--with the E at the top of the page and the other letters placed randomly around the page at her choosing. Also, for some reason she believes the't' prefers not to be at the end and the 'i' should be represented at least more than once. 

(Random story: I've been substituting in Primary these last few weeks and, well, we've started working on Primary at home. i.e. raising your hand, not answering questions with personal information you shouldn't share. Anyways, these last few weeks I've been trying to teach her the alphabet. We've gotten as far as C. During sharing time a few weeks ago, the question was asked, "What did we learn about last week that starts with B." Elie's hand flies into the air and she nearly shouts, "Cat! Cat starts with the letter B!")

For Elie's application I had to scan in some visa pictures of all of us and thought I'd post them--because we're clearly feeling pretentious, but really because:
a. I had to pay an arm and a leg to get these photos taken so they could be sent to the Thai embassy in time. The only place we could find in Zug, or any of the nearby cities, was a professional photo studio.
b. Elie looks awesome.
c. Since every country seems to need a different size (why can't they all have some world convention and agree if 2 by 2 inches or 1 by 2 inches etc. makes it easier to identify a terrorist), I will probably not be able to use the extra prints I had to buy.
So here they are: a preview of next year's Christmas card. Just kidding.  I'm still working on paying off our visa studio pictures.

 

And just so Vi doesn't feel left out, here's the photo for her visa and passport she had taken in the hospital. Every time I look at it I laugh. She's just that cute.

borderline blasphemous e quotes

 Now that she can talk, or maybe now that we can understand her, she says all sorts of funny things. Here are some of the things she's said lately and I've bothered to write down.

To get her to eat her vegetables I tell her what each one does, i.e. carrots are good for your eyes, broccoli for your bones, tonight she randomly said at dinner, "My bones are colorful, like a rainbow."

The other day she told me, "Me eat carrots, me like Tromodon." In case your not well versed in three year old obsessions, like Dinosaur Train, a Tromodon is a dinosaur that hunts at night.

While in church on Easter Sunday the bishop asked the congregation, rheotorically of course, "Did Jesus really live again when the third day came?" Eliot responded, loudly, with a resounding, "Yes!" 

Speaking of Easter, she has, what I am worried is, an unhealthy obsession with the Easter video on lds.org. She wants to watch in constantly. "Me watch movie when Jesus died again?" (If you haven't seen it, go watch it, it's great, but a little too graphic to be watched repeatedly by a three year old.) Then she tells random strangers about it, "You know Jesus die on cross." gory details, etc. Luckily, most people can't understand her, especially those whose native language isn't English--which is almost all strangers.

Ironically Easter happened soon after she learned about the extinction of dinosaurs, in a way we're millions of years too late on the news update. This has led to endless interesting conversations.Long story short, she is very excited for the resurrection, which in her mind will be Jurassic Park

My brother, Derrick, was showing her some pictures of Jesus during sacrament meeting,
Elie: Is he swimming?
Derrick: No, He is walking on top of water.
Elie: Is He like a boat?

I swear every ten seconds I get asked, "Why?" Why do we eat food? Why do we have bones? Why do I have to make my bed? Why can't I feed a piece of chicken to Violet and follow it up with a glass of milk? Why? Why? Why?

And no answer seems to satisfy her. Especially not my go to phrase of, "Because I said so and if you ask me again I'll put you in time out!" Today while reading books, she asked, "Why people have houses?" Sick of answering the same question I'd answered 2 hours before on our walk to gymnastics (in 104 degree weather I might add, help, I'm melting) I reversed roles and asked her, "Why do you think people have houses." Response, "To keep their toys in." Not the same answer I'd given her, but it works.