1) Ada likes to keep me company as I sit on the toilet. Perhaps this is purely altruistic; she does like to have company when she's in there. (As for me, I prefer solitude but as a parent one must make sacrifices.) She observes the way I look on the seat them keeps up a running commentary.
"Wow, Mommy, your bottom is so huge. So huge! I think you don't fit on that toilet seat, Mommy. I think it's too small for you. Ellie, come look at Mommy's bottom; it's huMONgous!"
She then proceeds to follow me around as I get dressed for the day, keeping up her feel-good patter.
"Mommy, your stomach is enormous."
"Yes, it is, and you know why my belly is so large right now."
"Because of baby Teddy. But look! It jiggles!"
2) I hurriedly finished the preparation of two large casseroles, one for now and one to freeze for after the baby comes. I'm a bit frazzled from all the extra "help" I've had in the kitchen, the fact that I'm heavily pregnant and uncomfortable, the fact that I have a tiny, over-stuffed kitchen, and the fact that dinner will now almost certainly be late. I trip over the dog as I step backwards and drop the aluminum foil, which unrolls all the way into the dining room. "Drat drat drattedy drat!" I am extremely frustrated but also secretly pleased that I haven't started shrieking like a banshee while hurling pots, wooden spoons, and curses.
"Mommy, you're not a very good cooker."
Thanks. "Do you like this food, honey?"
"Then why do you say that I'm not a very good cook?"
"Because you tripped on the dog."
3) In a discussion about age, parent vs. grandparenthood, and death, Ada informed me that I will very soon have all white hair. And will be a grandma as soon as she becomes a Mommy.
Obviously she is part of the cause of my natural hair color's demise. But if I can control the age at which my daughter becomes a parent simply by controlling the color of my hair, well, that's a pretty good deal!