Everything is hot.

Lucy can correctly use the words "hot" and "cold." With the recent temperatures (115 degree heat index anyone?) everything has started to fall in the "hot" category.

Even ice cream.

Lucy frequently asks if things are hot. I'm not sure why she asks because she never believes our response. Last week my mother-in-law was sitting on the front steps watching Lucy play on the front porch. Lucy decided she wanted to sit on the front steps too. Before sitting down she asked my mother-in-law if they were hot. After being assured that they weren't hot, Lucy tentatively sat on the very furthest corner of the step, with only about an inch of step supporting her. She only sat down comfortably after she ascertained that she wasn't going to burn her heiny off.

She also likes to blow on things to cool them off. Last night as Daddy was preparing dinner in the kitchen Lucy stood on the far side of the baby gate and declared that dinner was hot. Then, in an effort to cool off dinner faster she tried to single-handedly air condition the kitchen by blowing through the baby gate. She also tries this technique in the car. When she gets in the car she blows air on the carseat in an effort to cool it off. She even blows on ice cream. You never know, that ice cream might burn you.

YUM.

Lucy and I have been having mealtime battles lately.

About a week ago, Lucy decided that she was a big girl and would no longer use sippy cups. Since she was in danger of dehydration, I risked my poor carpet's life and allowed her to use a big girl cup. No lid. No straw. Straight up drinking out of a cup. She did surprisingly well with it. We had to lay down a few rules:

"No, your peas do NOT go in your cup."
"Drink your milk with your mouth, not with your fingers."
"Do not dump milk on your tray...not even if you use your napkin to clean it up again."

Since the cup has been going well, and Lucy has (mostly) won that battle, she decided today to broaden her horizons and dispense with utensils. The fork and spoon hit the floor (not that they were being used appropriately anyway), and up came Lucy's feet!

That's right, I looked over and (through significant contortion on her part) her left foot was up on the tray next to her plate. She used her hands to very meticulously put a bite of her peanut butter and jelly sandwich between her toes, and then brought her foot to her mouth to eat it. YUM. Peanut butter toejam.

Lucy Eats With Style

Apples To Go, Please

Recently Peter and I were walking around Toys 'R' Us making Lucy's birthday list. I was appalled by the amount of McDonald's play food in the kitchen set aisle. There's a fake McDonald's Drive-Thru window, a fake red and yellow cash register, fake supersized soft drinks and fries and triple stacked plastic bacon and cheese covered heart attacks waiting to happen. It's no wonder Americans are fat. We start 'em young.

Peter didn't see why this was upsetting to me. "That stuff was around when we were kids and we're not fat. It's not like we eat fast food often."

Apparently Lucy doesn't see much wrong with it either. At home she picked up her purse, waved "bye-bye" to me, and got on her rocking horse (it's actually a giant blue rocking dog, but that sounds odd typed out). She rocked for a minute, then got to an imaginary drive-thru window. She paused, turned to the side and said, "Um...apples please. Yeah. Apples. Thank you." She used a very decisive "telephone voice" to place her order. She rocked a couple more times, paused again, reached into her purse, and held out MY credit card to the imaginary cashier.

MY CREDIT CARD!!

Last time I saw it, it was in MY wallet in MY purse!! It's identity theft in my own house!

I guess I should be happy that she was buying fruit with it, and not a plastic McDonald's drive-thru window.

I need an apples combo meal, supersized please.