Posts Tagged ‘3 years 3 months’

The newest funny things Avery says:

“Mom! it’s winding!” pronounced with a short i in winding and meaning the wind is blowing. It’s also a transitive verb: “Mom! My hat is going to wind away!”

“Sure, I can have…” as in “Sure, I can have a toy box like that.” after seeing a toy box she likes on TV. Or “Sure, I can have long hair to the ground like Rapunzel.” What she really means to say is “Mom, I want that.”

Avery’s latest favorite thing is to have me tell her stories about how Abby, Zoe, and Rosita from Sesame Street visit her at her house. Usually the stories have to involve a tea party, dancing, or going to church. She loves for me to tell her about how Abby, Zoe, and Rosita come to nursery with her.

Avery with a big apple on her head

The apple doesn't appear as big in the picture as it did in real life.

Avery really likes to wear dresses, which is a problem now that it’s cold outside. We have a fight every morning when it’s time to get dressed. One day I let her wear her thin and sleeveless little summer dress and threw her out on the balcony to play until she got cold enough to want to come in. Unfortunately it wasn’t quite cold enough out (It was probably 50 degrees or so) and she played for a good half an hour before I made her come in. I’m a little surprised no one yelled at me for doing it. Hungarians are very sensitive about children getting cold outside.

We found a hand-me-down winter dress that I will let her wear inside with tights now, but it’s gotten quite cold outside the last week or so, so I think it’s pants and maybe leggings underneath them until we’re somewhere warmer. She asks to wear the Winter dress everyday. Sometimes three times a day.

Avery has mostly given up naps at this point. She still takes one maybe once a week or ten days, but she’s typically up all day. She likes to watch movies while Evelyn takes naps. Or paint. She was really excited about finger painting for about a week and a half this month.Avery in her Halloween tutu

Avery is very into High School lately.  I think she got this vague idea of something called “High School” from a friend who has older sisters approaching High School age.  Now everything cool happens in High School and sometimes random stories begin with “When I was in High School.”  My favorite one so far is “I play with ponies in my High School.”  She meant “My Little Ponies”, not the real life kind which might be acceptable in High School.

Note: Rachel started this but had to get on an airplane before she put pictures with it.  So I thought I (Ivan) would finish it for her since all the pictures stayed with me.  So if it doesn’t end well, blame me.


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Avery is learning about family relationships. She’s figuring out that her Grandma is my Mom and that Daddy and I are married. Because of this she often refers to us by these relationships. When she’s talking to me Evelyn is “my sister” or “your daughter” and they together are “your daughters.” She tells me “Look! Your daughters are sleeping!” instead of “Look! We’re sleeping!” She does it with Ivan and me as well. She asks me “Are we going to see your husband?” instead of “Are we going to see Daddy?” We’ve gotten some interesting looks from friends we’ve been with when she says in church “Look! Your daughters are holding hands!” She also pronounces “daughters” very distinctly like “Dot-ters” which only adds to the silliness.

Avery would rather be anywhere than home. She asks me everyday “Where are we going?” She’s in heaven the days we go to playgroup and then go home with a friend to play for a couple hours and if we don’t leave the house she gets cranky. She’s quite the social butterfly.

Things she says:

Hot E gos – Taquitos

Hatshi cakes – Háztartásikeks

Bekfrist – Breakfast

Mushtile – Mustache

On Wednesday she wanted to pet a kitty, but the kitty ran away so Ivan said “Here, pet me. I’ll be a kitty.” She said “No! You’re not a kitty! You’re nothing!”

I stretched out a towel so it would lay flat on a towel today and Ivan said “Woah! Mommy just man-handles it!” Avery’s response was a little angry: “Mom’s not a man! She’s a lady!” Apparently I lady-handle towels.

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