Emmy Lou's Favorite Phrases

Emmy has several phrases she's using right now.

"That's a promise." (We have no idea what this means to her, but she said it to us about 15 times last night, while "helping" Daddy clean up the kitchen.-- which basically entailed running back and forth with her toy vacuum).

"That's my body."  This is said any time someone touches her when she doesn't want them to.  It's mainly said when we're talking about school.

For example:

"Emmy, did you play with William today?"
"No, William." (she says, while pointing her finger)  (William is pronounced Wih-yum)
"Did you tell William no?"
She'll nod and say, "That's my body, William."

She also uses this one if Tom or I are bothering her, especially if she doesn't want to be tickled anymore.

Another phrase is: "Go Timeout."  This one, obviously, is when someone does something she doesn't like.  She'll often recount transgressions at daycare, telling us "'Riah, Go timeout."

Emmy often blames her boo boos on other kids at school.  Those conversations go like this:

"Emmy, did you get a boo boo?"
She'll nod and say, "William." (with a distinctive whine)
"William gave you the boo boo?"
She'll nod with a pouty face and repeat, "William."

If Mommy or Daddy upset her, she'll tell us to go to timeout too.  "You go timeout, mama!"  This is generally after taking a toy or book away, and it's generally followed by a meltdown shortly afterward.

And the last one I can remember at the moment is, "I can't fly."

Emmy loves to watch planes fly overhead.  When she first started pointing them out, she would say, "Look, Mama! Plane!"  We would watch it for a moment and then she would tell me, shaking her head, sadly, "I can't fly, mama."  She would occasionally even try to jump up to show me.  "I can't fly."

The X-ray

About a week ago, Emmy closed her finger in a door at daycare.  (It's pretty important to me that you know it didn't happen on my watch.  I've been hyper-alert about doors and other household dangers, and I was pretty upset when they called me at work to tell me it happened at daycare.)

It looked pretty rough at first.  It was black and blue, swollen, and very tender.  But she was able to bend it, and after the first day, she didn't complain about unless you squeezed it by accident.  So, Tom and I shrugged our shoulders and waited for it to get better.

It looks much better now, but it's still swollen, and she still won't let you squeeze the middle joint, so we decided to call the doctor and see if we should come in.

So yesterday, I took her to the pediatrician's office, to get their professional opinion.  Emmy was fine, until it was time to go back to the doctor's office, then she started crying and told me she wanted to go home.  She even went to the door and tried to open it so she could leave.  (She's still about one inch too short to get a good grasp on door knobs)

She calmed down in the exam room, and we read a book until her doctor came in.  Emmy fussed, but let Dr. P. look at her finger, and feel the bone.  Then we got an order for an x-ray.

So, this morning, Emmy and I headed to the children's hospital, which is convenient, since I work on campus.  When we pulled into the parking garage, she got very upset.  She told me she wanted her daddy, that she wanted to go home, and that she was "scared."

I don't know what bothered her about the parking garage.  She's had some trouble before with elevators (she cries the entire time we're in them) but she's never gotten upset like that anywhere else (except the ocean, but we don't make it there very often to test her reaction).  When she was very small, we saw a pediatrician at the children's hospital clinic, but I can't imagine that she remembers that.  So, if she can't remember seeing doctors after we park in that garage, the only thing that leaves is claustrophobia.

Can toddlers be claustrophobic?

Anyway, to relieve the suspense, her finger is fine.  It's still swollen, but there's no fracture, so we'll just have to wait a little longer for it to heal.

Emmy got two stickers and a bracelet for being a brave girl on the x-ray table.  She cried the entire time, but I guess we should be grateful that she didn't resort to biting, kicking or scratching (like a certain cat that shall remain nameless, every time we have to take her to the vet).

I tried to prepare her for the x-ray, by telling her that we were going to the doctor to take a picture of her hand.  I told her that she would say "cheese," (which she says anytime a camera is pointed at her).  I told her that if she was good she would get a sticker.  I brought both stickers and candy with me to reward her.  And I think, logically, she had wrapped her mind around getting her "picture" taken.  But it was a big scary, dark room, with a large white table that she had to lie on.  And mommy had to put on a big vest to stay with her, and I think it was just overwhelming.  No amount of telling her it was just a picture could overcome all of that.  So, I had to hold her down, while the x-ray tech tried to position her hand, and I tried to bribe her with stickers and candy, and tried to convince her it was just a picture.

But it's done now.  And somebody is probably going to get some ice cream tonight.  I might even share it with Emmy.

I Emmy.

I don't know why this amuses/amazes me as much as it does, but I thought I'd share anyway.

Emmy's vocabulary and speaking is getting pretty good.  She knows her name, (Emmy) and she knows that "Emily" and "Emmy Lou" are also her names.

She's also out-grown being called a baby, but she's not ready to be called a big girl yet.

"Emmy, are you a big girl?"

"No, I not big girl.  I Emmy."