Savannah's Weblog

We had a fun day today. Seth and I started our day before Savannah did. But after breakfast, she and I played hide and seek. I helped her in her pre-school work book. We had a "puppet show" where we played ourselves, very dramatically. I tried explaining it was really a play like when we saw Sesame Street (on stage.) There was laundry that I think she was supposed to help me with but got distracted by cartoons. Kick ball after lunch, I had the last kick that went down the thicket. She cried, knowing I wasn't going down after it. Ticks and snakes, know what I mean?

I told her I'd treat her to pound cake before the doctor cause I knew she didn't wanna go. Last Thursday was much different. She gashed her leg open on a stone, taking 3 stitches on the shin. Today we went to have the stitches removed. It didn't come to anything. Dr. Ertle wanted to give the cut one more day to heal. We go back tomorrow. Doubt she'll get more pound cake though.

We got groceries after that and came home for dinner and more of her work book. I told her we would have to be cleaning up instead of playing because Daddy would be home shortly. She said we should play I Spy to clean up. This was a great idea, and I wonder now, wasn't I supposed to suggest a fun way to clean up?

Dad came home, and the four of us laid down on the living room rug after eating quesadias. Seth had a blast crawling over me several times. She followed suit, and she's twice his size. I was worn out with both of them crawling over me. Daddy's turn tonight at bedtime. She had a blast with their puppet show. Fell asleep with little problem.

Oh, and Brad went down the hill after her green ball. She stood at the back door, scared, saying, "I hope he bees careful." then ran to get her shoes.

Posted by Georgia at 11:24 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

We have to work to keep Savannah at the table during dinner time. She tends to leave the table to get this or play with that. So now she has to ask to be excused from the table. She wanted to look in the refrigerator to put something between her buttered bread to make her own sandwich. I made her sit down so that I could look. She very unhappily complied.

I stood beside her, putting more food in front of her. Her legs hung off the side of her chair sort of pushing/kicking on my legs but not mean or hurtful. Walking away to the trash can I told her she shouldn't kick at her mama. I said, "God sees everything we do. He knows everything we think and say. It makes God unhappy when a little girl kicks at her mama."

I heard her saying something low. I heard God's name. So I sat down at the table and said, "Did you say something?" She answered, "I was praying." I asked, already knowing, "Will you tell me what you were praying?" She said, "I told God I was sorry for kickin' Mama." So I told her that was very nice.

Posted by Georgia at 11:37 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)