Pace: Momma, how long is 20 minutes? Is it this many? She asks as she holds up all of her fingers and stretches them as wide as she can--as though that will make them more than 10.
Me: Nope, it's more than that.
Pace: Well then, how many fingers is 20 minutes?
I match my ten fingers to hers and lightly touch our fingertips.
Me: THIS is twenty fingers.
She smiles and, for a minute, I think she's got it.
Pace: Mom, you've got more fingers than me, so I can't go to sleep that long, unless I have you.We had a jar of Pace salsa on the table at dinner, when suddenly our Pace started screaming that her name was written right there on the bottle.
Jeremiah: Well, Pace, that is your name, but this bottle is talking about a different Pace. I bet the family who makes this salsa has the same name as you.
Pace (very matter-of-factly): There are other little girls named Natalie, and other little boys named Noah, but nobody else is named Pace.
Jeremiah (trying not to laugh his head off at our cocky 4 yr old): Well, Pace, there is somewhere.
Pace: Nuh-uh, and there's nobody named Maddox either!
Jeremiah: Actually, there are a lot of people named Maddox and some people named Pace too.
We are both outright laughing at her incredulity now.
Pace: Nuh-uh, y'all are just kiddin' me! I KNOW that isn't true, I'm the only one.
At least she's self-assured :)Jeremiah and I were having a serious discussion about some of the potential homes I'd found for us to rent in Seattle. I was laying out the pros and cons of each one (and trying to hold his attention, I might add) when another distraction entered our conversation.
Me: Jeremiah, there is only one bridge to that part of Seattle, and I'm worried that if there is a wreck on it, you won't be able to drive in to work.
Pace: Mommy and Daddy, if we can't take the bridge, we can just swing across. You know, like the monkey bars. Me and Dapples will just hold on to your backs. :)
Seattle, here we come! A whole family of monkeys.**Addition**
I meant to write one other thing that she said, and I forgot until something jogged my memory the other day. Soooo, I don't know if anybody will actually read this little addition, but I wanted it for our memory's sake.
Sometimes, Pace still makes comments about my Mom (who passed away 2 years ago) that blow me away. She was only two when Mom left us, and it's hard to know how much a 2 year old really remembers and how much is them just repeating things that they hear you say. This was so obviously her own personal remembrance, that it makes me happy:
Mom's favorites chips were Cape Cod, Salt and Vinegar. You know the kind that are "kettle cooked" and extra crunchy. With two little ones being the primary consumers of chips in our house (who in the world am I kidding by that statement?!), I tend more towards cheese flavored items than the bitter tang of salt and vinegar. However, as I passed these at the store this past week, they called my name loudly enough that I went ahead and grabbed a bag. I did smile a little to myself at the thought of these being Mom's particular favorite, but I certainly didn't say anything out loud.
The next day at lunch, Pace was insistent that she wanted to try some of MY chips with her peanut butter and jelly, and, to my great surprise, she loved them. After a few chips she turned to me and said, "Mommy, this is a lunch just like Bebe used to make me!" And she, and that brilliant little sponge-mind of hers, were exactly right. Oh how bad I wish we could still share a PBJ and some kettle-cooked chips.