Bedtime Conversations

Our evening routine is one of my favorite parts of the day. Little Miss and I snuggle up together with the iPad and read to each other. Sometimes she reads an entire book, sometimes I do...and sometimes we read together. It's one of the few times throughout the day that there are no 'life' interruptions. We are each other's captive audience.

After reading, we talk about the rose/thorn of our days...which sometimes carries over to random chatter. Recently, Little Miss has attempted to prolong the actual 'sleep' part of our nightly routine, by spouting out bits of information- just as I think she's fallen asleep.

Tiny heart attacks occur with each story...because I think she's asleep until all of a sudden, her head pops up and I hear...

"Keena is older than me. Everyone in my dance class is...except the ones who aren't," she says.
"Oh...okay, well let's go to sleep now."

Minutes pass by. The dog is snoring under my feet.

"Snakes can eat otters...and rats...did you know that-"
I interupt.
"Thats amazing...but it's time for sleep. Thank you for all the information though!"
"Right...love you, Mama!" she says with a kiss, then closes her eyes again.

More time passes. The dog snores louder...one of the animals fart and in the midst of me gasping for air, I hear a whisper.

"The person who plays Avery on 'Dog with a Blog' was on 'Good Luck, Charlie' first...did you know that, Mama?"
"I didn't. But I do know that you are supposed to be sleeping!"

Less than one minute later.

"I can spell olive....................... I just did it in my head."

At this point, I'm trying to fight back the giggles. Quite honestly, Little Miss sounds like she's having a half drunk conversation with herself.

I tell her once again, it's time to stop talking and go to sleep. For the love of worms and dirt, child...aren't you the least bit tired?! More time passes...she's snuggled on my arm and feels like a wet noodle. I'm quite certain she's asleep.

"Do you know what happens after art? ...I don't either."

My eyeballs fall out of my head.

Seconds later, she's snoring.

A Familiar Voice

The night of Little Miss's birthday, we went to our favorite local movie theater to watch Hotel Transylvania. This little theater is one of a kind- you can't possibly spend a twenty dollar bill, no matter how much popcorn and candy you buy. It's amazing.

About five minutes into the movie, Little Miss turned to me and motioned for me to lean to her.

"Mama...is Gran'Pa Braunstein an actor now?!" she whispered with excitement.

"No, sweetie- I don't think so...why?" I asked.

"Because...I think he is! I think he has to be the voice of Dracula!!" she said.

I didn't argue. I watched her as she proudly watched the rest of the movie, positive that her grandfather (who is originally from Romania) was the voice of a character in her new favorite movie.

The next day, she decided to dress as Mavis, Dracula's daughter, for Halloween. She loves her Gran'Pa. ;-)

What Does Gay Mean?

"Mama, what does gay mean?" asked Little Miss, while we watched television tonight.

"It's when boys date other boys, instead of girls- or when girls date other girls, instead of boys," I said, all while questioning if this was the politically correct answer to the question.

I mean, is there a politically correct answer?

On this election day, I couldn't help but take the words "politically correct" literally. Politicians are constantly trying to take rights away from gay people...so why would I want to be politically correct while defining something that is important to me, to my daughter? President Obama is for same sex marriage...while Governor Romney is very much against it. In the split second between my response and Little Miss's reply, I wondered...will she ever see an America where same sex marriage is recognized legally?

"Oh. Okay. Well, Alonso is my boyfriend- so I guess I'm not gay. But it's fine if my friends are!" she said.

I smiled so big it hurt my face. If only adults could take advice from the younger generation...I'm not gay. But it's fine if my friends are.