Eat Your Peas

G and Anna were going back and forth last night and I was dying.

"Can I have some cake now?  I'm done with my dinner."

"You haven't eaten your peas, you need to finish them."

"I can't eat these.  There is no way I can eat anymore of them."

"Well then I guess you can't eat cake either."

"Yes, I can eat cake, I want some cake."

"Then finish your peas."

"I want cake, it tastes better.  These make me want to vomit."

Dessert First

I went to pick up dinner last night, so my mom babysat G while I went out.

I brought home a beautiful meal for G, but when I got home, I saw that Mom had fed her a giant piece of Rum Cake.  She obviously doesn't know the rule of dinner before dessert.  G didn't touch her dinner and I told her she didn't eat any of her dinner because she spoiled her appetite with dessert first.

"Yes, the cake was delicious."

Grandma: 1
Dinner: 0

Anna's a genius

A recurring theme on OK Grandma is how G thinks my older sister Anna, is perfect and nothing I do will ever measure up.  In the spirit of this theme...

My boss came over to the house on Saturday because we were carpooling to a wedding.  When I was in my room, my boss was very nice and said some really sweet things about me to G.

G was telling Anna and another sister, Lori, about what Chrissie was saying and somehow twisted it around and told the story that my boss thinks Anna is a genius, so G told Anna how proud she was of her.

Ok, Grandma.

Hostage Crisis

Class nights are a bit rushed as I have to rush home, cook dinner for G, move her to where she wants to be before dinner and set up my laptop for class.  Thursdays are particularly tenuous as Thursday is artichoke day, which take an hour to cook--it's just about the only green vegetable I can get G to eat without fighting (but I don't know if it still counts as a vegetable when she dips it in mayo).

Last night I was trying to get her wheeled to the living room for dinner before class and she wouldn't sit down in her wheelchair.  She kept fiddling with her mail and asking me questions about appointments, her memory, her body parts and life in general.  I was trying so hard to be patient.  She would not sit down.  I was her captive audience and she was not going to let me go.

Long story short, I was fifteen minutes late to class.

Shipwrecked

I am sitting on the couch studying for my math CSET and G is in her chair reading her book.  I had to turn on some music to drown out the noises coming from her stomach--it sounds like someone is shipwrecked in there.

Cute pouty G

Mom came over yesterday afternoon to watch G so Anna and I could run a few errands.  When we came home Mom had to go home and take care of her own stuff.  G obviously didn't want Mom to leave, "No! You can't go!  I need you to..." and she couldn't think of anything.

"Grandma, you have to let Mom go home."

"I know.  But I just hate to let her go."  And she bowed her head in that pouty pathetic way she does everything these days.  She is so dang cute.

Sleeping to the Rhythm

I'm sitting in the living room working on my paper and babysitting G today.  She is sitting in her chair with a feather blanket (it's 85 degrees outside), sleeping with her mouth wide open, snoring, and farting in a rhythmic pattern.

Strangest babysitting job I've ever had.