Armenie updates and conversations with Hanna

Beautiful little Armenie. She has the wisdom of old wrinkled woman hiding behind those big dark soulful eyes.

She only wants to sleep in a carrier with her face nestled against my warm breasts, the second I put her down and leave the room she whips her eyes open frantically “Where did you go? Come back mom!”. She likes to bounced while she nurses, this a habit she’s picked up from constantly being in the carrier around the house. Sometimes she won’t latch until I’m bouncing.

I press my lips against hers gently while she sleeps and feel them move as she dreams of milk and warm bodies. Her tiny hand, fingers wide and stretching in the palm of my hand, I nuzzle her neck and inhale the sweet smell of her pajamas. These quiet little moments, I’m just trying to gobble them up.

Her fuzzy hair is ducktailing at her nape. Sweet ginger-blonde fuzz that smells like coconut ice cream. Nom nom nom nom. I love the way she now snuggles into me with intent. Resting her head against my shoulder and her hand over top of mine.

Hanna is currently naked in the front window in the fur covered cat bed.
Conversations with her are so wonderful and insighful.

Hanna: MAMA, what are you doing? Where are you?
Me: I’m just stirring the dinner, I’ll be right there!
Hanna: I am tired of waiting for you now.

She says Are instead of Do, and Has instead of Have, as in: “Are you want to has a bath?” or “I has to go poo.”
She’s added the phrase “Excuse me.” to her vocab. “Excuse me, I can has that fairy?” she said to me today, pointing at one of her fairy figures I stuck up on the ledge over the sink.

She’s also quite fond of the word beautiful, and like Moses, has also picked up on the word “actually.”
“Actually mom, this is Cinderella, not mermaid.”

I have also been laughing at phrases she so OBVIOUSLY picked up from me.
Me: Mommy’s so tired Hanna.
Hanna: You has a long day?

I was watching a bad made for tv movie about teenage girls beating up another girl and posting it on the internet. Hanna was playing and I didn’t even think she was paying attention but she turned to me and said “They’re not being good girls. They’re being baaaaaaad.” Little pitchers have big ears, whatever that’s supposed to mean. (I actually looked it up, in case you’re interested because I had absolutely no idea where the expression came from, only what it meant.) Gone are the days when we can argue in front of her or talk about serious or private matters, she not only repeats but truly understands what’s going on. She’s so in tune with our emotions, that even if she doesn’t fully comprehend the conversation, she senses the tone behind it.

`GROWING UP. It’s blowing my mind.