Snippets of Sister Stinky - vol. 1

Today I had my 36 week check-up (and found out I am already 2cm dilated and 70% effaced...thank you very much, incredibly strong and productive Braxton Hicks!). While the doctor was listening to Baby Sister's heartbeat, he commented that I have an outie. I told him that I seem to have gotten one much sooner this time, and shared with him how Sister Stinky is convinced that my belly button is actually her sister's nose. He thought that was hilarious and said, "I really hope you're writing these things down!"

So, who am I to ignore the wisdom of a father of seven? (Because yes, my amazing ob/gyn is a Catholic, nfp friendly doctor who is also the father of a large family and quotes saints to me while joking about the terribly ugly chapel at the hospital I'll be delivering at. I know. You're wondering why you don't have a doctor like that in your town. Just give Simon and his sainted wife a few more years and you just might!)

Sooo, please enjoy the first installment of "Snippets of Sister Stinky."

While looking through one of her saint books...
"It's my St. Therese! My favorite saint!"

Whenever we mention her beloved "GG" (great-grandma) being in heaven now,
"GG no take my St. Therese! My saints!"

             Back off you children of Fatima. Mary is all hers, too.

The other day, after a rip roaring time at her friend's house (post-Baptism bashes are the best) we were discussing her skinned knee and its need for some tlc.
Sister Stinky: I need  band-aid!
Me: Yes, sweetheart, you do. We'll get you all fixed up!
Sister Stinky: No clean my ouchie, Daddy!
The Abbot: Okay, if you won't let me clean your ouchie, I'm not giving you a band-aid.
Slight pause. Stinky loves band-aids.
Sister Stinky: Okay, Daddy. You clean it...
A few silent minutes of thinking later...
Sister Stinky: I have idea!
Me: What's that sweetheart?
Sister Stinky: I clean ouchie by self. I clean it mouth water!
Me: You mean your spit?
Sister Stinky: Yes. My spit.

Her latest obsession is with smells...
Sister Stinky: (sniff, sniff) That smell is?
Me: I don't know what that is, sweetheart.
Sister Stinky: That smell is gross!
(The best is when she informs me that I smell gross...)

Sister Stinky weighed in her opinion while I was trying on clothes the other day...
Me: What do you think of this dress, sweetheart?
Sister Stinky: It's perfect! You look like Cinderella!
After trying on another outfit...
Me: How about this one, sweetheart?
Sister Stinky: Don't like it! It doesn't fit you well.
(Who needs Stacy and Clinton when you've given birth to your own personal fashion consultant?)

While playing hide-and-seek with the Abbot recently...
Sister Stinky: You count, Mommy!
Me: Okay...1...2...3!
Sister Stinky (counting simultaneously): 1...2...2...5...2...2...ready or not, here I come!
(Goes off in search of the Abbot.)
Sister Stinky: I found you, Daddy! (a few seconds of silence and the sound of feet pitter pattering to another room) Daddy, I found you! (This continues with the same level of enthusiasm for a few minutes before she comes running back to me.)
Sister Stinky: Where Daddy is?
Me: Didn't you find him? (multiple times?)

The Abbot: How was your trip to the pool?
Sister Stinky: I saw Jesus!
The Abbot: Jesus was at the pool?
Sister Stinky: Yes...(pause)...but he died first.
(Four theology degrees between her parents...and we're still lacking in our catechetical methods, I guess.)

The morning after we set up the bassinet in our room (in preparation for Baby Sister)...
Sister Stinky (running into the room and going straight for the bassinet): Where Baby Sister??? She not in crib!!!
Me (pulling back the blankets so she could see my belly): It's okay, sweetheart. She's still in Mommy's tummy.
Sister Stinky (visibly relieved and embracing my belly): There you are, Baby Sister!

Ohhh...and I recently realized that I'm about to birth my second child without writing a birth story for the first. Count yourself lucky, friends...this week is the week when it gets written!!!


  1. Haha these are great! And they'll only get better once baby sister is born :)

    Cecilia is convinced that she and St. Cecilia are one and the same - when we ask St. Cecilia to pray for us she always says, "Dat's ME!!!" I'm not sure how to convince her that she is not yet a saint...

  2. Hahaha, the conversation about spit is my favorite. And the picture of her on the tricycle is adorable!

  3. This was fun! Excited to hear the birth story... I might share mine, too, good idea.

  4. That is so funny about the Saints. My boys never think they are saints (they are way too bad for that!) but they do always make sure that their saint gives them extra prayers. For example, we always hear "Saint Thomas, pray for us. AND ME TOO!"

    1. It cracks me up, but kids are so possessive when it comes to their patron saints!!


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