An exit from the land of Bummage.
Okay, there’s been some highly amusing stuff on the kid front in the last couple of weeks–let’s see if I can recap:
The Cave Troll: After that horrible moment with “Take off your shoes, mama, take them off?” I went to pick him up from day care (mind you, this is 8 hours later and he’s 3 1/2) and he said, “Mama, you pinched me!” (My last gasp punishment in the car to get him to stop shrieking at the top of the lungs, thereby distracting me in the world’s most unpredictable freeway traffic and thereby killing us all.)
“Yes I did,” I replied, “YOu wouldn’t stop screaming at me.”
“I’m sorry mama,” he told me, “I’m sorry about your shoes.” *sniff* Is there a better Cave Troll on the face of the planet? I think not.
Of course, he’s still pointing out stuff we see as we go and expecting me to repeat him…this is a problem when I’m ‘writing’ as I drive and he starts shrieking in the middle of a lovely lull of silence. It’s also a problem because his enunciation isn’t perfect. Example?
“Horz, mama, horz!”
*blink* *blink* “Gees, honey, give the poor girls a break–their make-up wasn’t that thick…”
“Mama, wanna ride that horz!!!”
On the Ladybug front:
1. Ladybug sings–I sing to her a lot–usually that Sesame Street song (La la la la lampost, lalala linoleum,) of course, I can’t remember the words so I’m making them up… (la la la la lucybelle, la la la leviticus, la la la la libertine, la la la la lepidemidimus…)and apparently, she goes to day care and sings ‘la la la la urgleplarck’ to her buddies, and they sing back. “I have no idea what they’re saying, ” says their day care person, “But they sure do like the conversation.
2. Ladybug walks–two steps, max. Then she does a complicated risk/benefit ratio calculation in her head, flops on her ass and crawls to the next place she can stand up. Watching that risk/benefit calculation is priceless though…you’ve got to wonder how that’s playing out…
3. Ladybug dances–we have this game called Guitar Hero II–basically, it’s like air guitar for the technogeek… as a family activity, I’d give it a 10+ in the interactivity scale. So, her dad is doing the medium version of Guns&Roses Sweet Child of Mine (those of you who have read the books, you must know how tickled I am that this song made the cut, even if I like the Sheryl Crowe version better) and we look over at Ladybug. She’s doing the pop-lock-& roll like a hyperactive teenager, and adding hand-claps in the middle. Ah, gods, where’s a video camera when you need one?
Well, mostly she just is. I really hope the photos are loading tonight–I had her go down the road and take a picture of the turkey crossing sign–she was so tickled to be the official family photographer. I”ve mentioned this before, (I think) but her science teacher e-mailed all the parents in her science class and said, “This class is acting out, please talk to your child about their essay on respect that they were required to write.” I talked to Chicken and she said, “I’m excused.” I e-mailed the teacher to confirm and she said, “Your daughter is one of the reasons I’m so mad at the rest of the class–she wants so badly to learn.”
I was prouder than words.
And Big T?
Big T signed up for high school with his dad. When Big T was the world’s biggest baby (25 lbs at 4 months–no joke) I got a part time job at another school. Big T had difficulty at this age–he had what we thought was ‘colic’ but what we later figured was his way of dealing with his communication handicap. He screamed for hours at a time. We went through babysitters like water–as in, they’d call us up in tears at 5:30 in the morning and say “We just can’t do this today. So sorry. Not happening.” I got fired from the world’s crappiest part time job by a vice principal who forgot that I even had a baby at home.
After my husband took T in to sign up, he said “Does Name X ring a bell?”
I said, “Uh, yeah, she’s the @#$% who fired me from my first job.”
He said, “Well, she’s T’s principal now.”
Did you guys just hear the thud? I think my irony just dropped!