"Sometimes you have a happy heart, sometimes you have a grumpy heart, and sometimes you have a waffle heart. You know, when you eat them."

"Mom, how does a baby get made in your belly?"

*SHIT SHIT SHIT* "Give mommy a minute to think about that ok?"

"Ok."

"All right.  Women have eggs in their bellies and men have sperm.  The man gives sperm to the woman, it gets together with the egg and it forms a baby."

"Where does the man keep his sperm?"

*SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT*  "In his body."

"Who will give me sperm to make Bernadette River?"

"We won't know until you're much older."

"Can daddy give me sperm to make Bernadette River?"

"NO.  I'm sorry, no, daddy can only give his sperm to mommy."

"Why?!"

"Because that's the rules, your daddy can only give his sperm to me."

How the hell did I end up being a greedy non sharing bitch while giving the how are babies made talk to my four year old?!

Later...

"WHY DID YOU TELL HER THAT?!"

"What do you mean why?! She asked!  What was I supposed to say?!"

"THE STORK."

"What."

"The stork drops them off!  Dumbo set the whole thing up for us!  How could you blow that?!"

"You are ridiculous."

G at four is...amazing.  I am mentally exhausted after every car trip because she had me held captive and just asks questions the entire time.  I try my best to answer them.  When I say something she doesn't understand she asks me to repeat it, then says; "Speak louder!"  I have to tell her; "Kid, it's not that you didn't hear me, it's that you don't know that word."  When she talks she's developed her own sign language to go along with what she's saying, punctuating her words with hand movements, acting everything out like the drama queen she is.  

Due to the perfect storm of her our friend's older children witnessing the birth of their sister and then using that story during play, G's friend's little brother being born, my niece being born, and telling G her birth story the day before her birthday G is pregnant more often than not.  Her daily births rivals the Duggar's lifetime births.  She just walks around with her doll shoved up her shirt, bringing it up in conversation;  "I'm pregnant." *very practiced long suffering laugh* "I'm about to have her though.  She'll be cute."  Then she's gives a few grunts and POOF Heart, her doll is born.  

I have also had to retell her birth story every single night since the day before her birthday.  So since August 22.  Lawd.  I've been telling her a 'Princess G story' every night before bed for at least a year, which is essentially just a retelling of her day, with the main cast renamed.  There's Queen Granny, King Papa, Prince Daddy, Princess G, Fair Maiden Mommy, and Knight Uncle.  But for the past effin month it's just been one story over and over.  "Tell me the Princess G baby story mommy!"  Which she has now begun to act out as I tell it.  She's laying in her bed with Heart up her shirt and for the walking part sits up and kind of bounces around, she licks the ice cream cone you guys, it's hysterical.  For posterity, it goes as follows:

One afternoon Prince Daddy and Fair Maiden Mommy were walking all over town.  Up and down the hills, through the streets and beyond.  Queen Granny and King Papa joined them.  All afternoon and into the evening.  Eventually they stopped at Blondie's for a chocolate covered ice cream cone which was delicious.  Then they kept walking.  When it was dark Queen Granny and King Papa went home, but Prince Daddy and Fair Maiden Mommy kept walking, far into the night.  When it finally got very late they went home, they took showers and Prince Daddy went to bed.  But 20 minutes later Fair Maiden Mommy had to wake him up.  They drove to the hospital as fast as they could.  When they got there Fair Maiden Mommy was admitted to the room upstairs.  She labored until she got an epidural to help ease the pain and was able to rest.  Poor Prince Daddy was up all night though.  The next morning Fair Maiden Mommy continued to labor until she saw the lunch cart go by and realized she was hungry and needed to have this baby.  So she pushed and pushed and out came.....Princess G!!  They put her on Fair Maiden Mommy's chest, and then took her to be weighed, measured and cleaned up (insert sarcastic comment about me barfing my brains out from my husband) then wrapped her in a blanket and brought her back.  All of her friends and family who had been waiting came in to meet her and fell instantly in love.  They oohed and ahhhed and took pictures.  Then it was time for them to go, so every one left so Princess G, Prince Daddy, and Fair Maiden Mommy could just be together.  The End. 

Every night I'm telling this story.  It's getting old.  

She has decided she will be a Zoo Keeper when she grows up, a Petting Zoo Keeper to be exact, and she will have it here on the compound.  It will also be one where people can buy the animals if they come to pet them and they fall in love.  

My MiL tells her stories that begin; "My mom and your great grandma," or "My dad and your great grandpa" so often that she has shortened it to now call her great grandparents her Great Mom and Great Dad.  She has never met them, but they very much exist for her, and between them and holding her brothers in her heart, the concept of people loving her that have never met her is very much a part of her life.  The interesting part of this is that it now goes both ways.  People who once existed, and people who don't exist yet.

G has a daughter.  Bernadette River.  She talks about her all the time, is wonderfully forward thinking and asked; "Mom, will you take care of Bernadette River while I'm busy working in the petting zoo with the animals?"  I of course said yes.  I have no clue where she came up with this name, I'm very amused she would even think of using River as a name seeing as I don't think she's ever heard of it before.  Bernadette River has been in our family for about 6 months, and is still often spoken of, with excitement and anticipation.  "Mom, we're going to need to get my old crib out when Bernadette River is born, because"  *well practiced long suffering laugh* "she can't sleep in a big girl bed as a baby."  And she shakes her head at me like I was the one foolish enough to think such things.  I tell her absolutely, we'll set that bed up as soon as she's born.   She asks me how Bernadette River will think or say about things and gets very annoyed by my 'I have no clue she doesn't exist yet' answer.  

Walking with her is like walking with a 34 pound helium filled balloon.  She bounces off of walls, legs, other people, steps on toes, falls down for no reason I can ever discern.  She's just learned to skip so this is her new favorite mode of getting from point A to point B.  This has not been a helpful development.  She does this while talking a mile a minute.  She's in constant movement, and can end up on the ground just while standing in one place.  I've taken her to the doctor, they said her ankles and legs are fine, and my in laws tell me it's genetic.  They're always falling and running into things.  It gives me an excuse to make her hold my hand, I'm constantly yanking her back up to keep her from crashing in a heap.  People get all concerned; is she ok?  She's fine, that's like the 30th time today.   Her anywhere near a ledge is enough for my world to spin.  Lawd we need a ballet class.  I think she'd love it, any kind of music is cause for a dance break.  She loves to shake her booty.  I can relate.  

I am in love with her at this age.  We still have some pronunciation differences that I adore; syrup is seerup,  throw is fro, breakfast is breffast, bouquet is boo-quet, and my favorite; band aid is bande aid said with almost a southern accent I have no idea how she could have acquired.  She loves to have her back scratched, hates to have kisses from men with beards, and the most common phrase out of her mouth is; "mom, pretend that....." and off we go......

She continues to 'take awhile to warm up to people' but she IS warming up to them, so that makes my heart happy.  Most often when they have animals or small non talking/mobile children, these are the quickest ways to get to heart.  She adores babies.  Forces me to let her introduce herself (her words) to them in parks and restaurants despite my reminding her they can't talk back to her.  She gives them a chuck on the chin or a toe tickle with a s/he's so CUTE! and she's content.  

I tuck her in at night, smooth back her hair and kiss her still baby cheeks, (the only part left after that last growth spurt left her all gangly and colt like, she's all legs now, and they aren't chubby baby ones) and am so happy to have her.  So grateful to know how soft her skin is.  Thank you G, for being mine.  

*My quote; G of course.  I was annoyed, we were having an after bedtime pooping sesh and she obviously could tell I was in less than a steller mood about it.  That made me smile though.  

"I'm going on becation."

"Where to?"

"Tahoe.  Where we went when I was a toddler."

(Last May, but ok.)