Olivia, oh Olivia...

This morning at 2:38am I woke up to a very wet Olivia. She wet the bed. I stripped her down, put her in my bed while I tiptoed into her room and looked for a new pair of PJ's without waking Abigail. Came back to my room with the PJ's. Started to put them on her, and she said, "No, Mommy I want my green shirt." OLIVIA! It's freaking 3 o'clock in the morning, you can't even see what color your shirt is. alfiorhfjansgjhfaguhwrhgjkafvn!

So I just said, "okay." And continued to dress her with what I already had. I guess she was too tired to fight. She is just so opinionated it's ridiculous. Which is one of her new favorite words. I asked her to clean up her toys in the living room to which she responded, "Mom, that's weedicwulus!"

She also told Aaron she doesn't love him anymore. She told me she's not my friend anymore. And that when she gets big and I get littler she's going to flush me down the toilet. I think that's probably the meanest thing she could think of.

What on earth do I do with this child? I love her to peices, but my goodness she wears me out.