Don't call social services on me....yet

Violet says she wants to be a Mommy like me when she grows up.  When she tells me this I always silently hope that learns from my mistakes.  But I'm not so sure she will...

The other day she was playing with her baby dolls.  I heard her tell one of them she was bad and was going to have to go to jail.  Why, you ask?  Because the baby threw up on her shirt.  Wait, what?  I asked her why she was sending the baby to jail just because she threw up.  "Because Diego [of Dora fame] and I DO NOT like that."  She then proceeded to the trash can and pretended to shake the barf off of her shirt into the trash.

So I'm racking my brain thinking about Violet's most recent barf incident, which was just last week.  It was lovely, she cried out "Daddy" but I answered the call.  She didn't even seem to be really awake when I went in, but then the bed barfing happened.  I got her to the bathroom and called out to Greg for help.  Meanwhile, she coughed more and barfed on the bathroom floor.  I have greatly improved in my ability to handle vomit over the last 3 years, but I guess some of my disgust must still register to her if she's playing these jail games.  But I swear - I've never ever sent her to time out for throwing up.  Although at one of the more traumatic school drop-offs I did tell her to cut it out and stop trying to make herself throw up.

My Mom says that when I was about her age I was playing with my dolls in the back seat of the car and they heard me say, "Shit shit shit, damn damn damn.  I'm gonna beat the blood out of you, Baby."  I'm pretty sure my parents never said anything like that to me - so I guess Violet's play doesn't necessarily reflect my parenting.