Peyton Story Palooza

Recently, Peyton has been blaming everything on her dad. For instance, we timed our tv to automatically shut off after a certain amount of time. Today when it shut off while Peyton was watching it, she said, "MOM! My t.t.! Dad shut of my t.t.!" Chris was in the bathroom. Or if she can't find something it is always because "Daddy took it!" Anyway, it is this weird thing she does. This morning I took my girls with me because I needed to talk to my old supervisor at the Department of Health and Welfare (same building as Child Protection). Peyton was kind of shy and my sweet supervisor was trying to talk to Peyton. Peyton came around and pointed to a big scratch on her face that she got while playing outside. My supervisor said, "Yeah, I see your scratch. How did you get it?"

I'm sure you guys all know what she said...

She exclaimed with big eyes, "My daddy did it!" AHHHH!

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Today, I also took the girlies to the school because I needed to speak to one of my former professors. Peyton screamed bloody murder the whole time because she wanted to ride in the elevator. After I made her wait while I did my business I decided that there was no harm in riding the elevator before we left. As if her constant, loud, echoed screams had not already annoyed the poor students who were quietly trying to study enough, she decided that she should push the alarm button the second we stepped onto the elevator. I'm glad that I have graduated and see no further reason to ever have to step in that building again. Ever.

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I decided to make cookies last week. I had just opened a new gallon of milk and used 1/2 of a cup of it. I got to the part of the recipe that called for constant stirring and slipped briefly into CourtneyLand (it's a happy place...). Peyton had been cranky all day and was particularly short with Juju because Juju kept following her around. Peyton got my milk off the counter, took it to my carpeted living room and dumped the entire gallon all over her little sister. I heard Juju's shriek of terror and went to see what happened. I cried. It was everywhere. I sent Peyton to her room for over an hour (more for her own protection than for punishment) while I attempted to clean the mess. I called my husband in tears. This had not been Peyton's first shinanigan of the day. He suggested that I try using the shopvac to pick up the puddles. I scrubbed with vinegar water and sucked the puddle up. I scrubbed with soapy water then sucked the puddle up. I scrubbed with baking soda water and sucked up the puddle. I used every towel in my house to soak things up before Chris gave me the shopvac idea. By Friday my house smelled like sour milk and we were forced to rent a carpet shampooer.

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Peyton and I go to the library quite often. When the stroller can find a way through the snow, we walk to the library. Last week, the entire way to the library I talked to Peyton about why it was important to be very quiet in the library. She seemed to understand and as we approached the library doors she became very quiet and even gave me a knowing look that seemed to say, "Don't worry, Mom. I've got this!" The moment we opened the doors, Peyton sprinted to the middle of the room, planted her feet, looked up and screamed as loudly as she could. During the rest of our short visit she informed everybody that passed her, "Popeye screamed!" She did NOT get a popsicle when we got home.

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FYI: I am not checking this puppy for errors and typos because the babes just woke up from their naps! Good luck muddling through!