the_blig

Job security

Tue, 24 Feb 2009 14:11:03 GMT

A recent conversation with my child, who's still having trouble with this whole "authority" concept:

"I wanna be the Mommy AND the Daddy."

"But then what would Daddy and I be?"

"You can be a frog and a pumpkin for Halloween."

Extrovert, much?

Tue, 24 Feb 2009 13:59:38 GMT

So the child and I went for a walk on one of the trails in the area, and passed a group of a couple of dozen Chinese tourists/students/both. They beat us back to the park, and Gracie took a minute to stare in fascination - she's not heard much Chinese spoken and wanted to listen. I asked her if she wanted to say hi, which she did most cheerfully, and all twenty-four of them turned around, saw her, smiled and waved.

Twenty-four pairs of eyes, trained on one three-year-old.

Total preschooler glee.

She lit up like she'd just swallowed a spotlight, flung her arms out, waved, and said "Hi! I Gracie!"

I've gotta get that kid into some drama classes...

Ewwwww...

Thu, 29 Jan 2009 06:50:35 GMT

It's no secret that I miss my mom like crazy, but given her total revulsion for all things nasal, it's at least a good thing that she missed out on the following discussion between myself and my daughter, as I was trying to explain the concept of "bad cold" to her:

"Mommy, why you talking funny?"

"Because by dose is all stuffed up."

She bent and peered STRAIGHT into the offending organ and pondered the situation for a moment. "But Mommy, why I can't pull it out for you?" Accompanied by horribly descriptive gestures...

...

Fri, 12 Dec 2008 21:15:46 GMT

So. I took my child to the grocery store today, along with her stuffed bear Bearbear (smart children can't name ANYthing, as I know from my own experience). About halfway through the store, she decided it would be fun to fling Bearbear across the aisle. "Gracie, don't throw your bear."

She picked him up, tiptoed across the aisle, and dropped him on the other side.

"Gracie, don't DROP your bear."

She picked him up, put him down, and punted him back across the aisle.

"Gracie. If that bear leaves your hands again, you are not seeing him again until naptime."

Silence. Approximately 30 seconds of blissful serenity follow before I HEAR her being smug and look over to see her ambling behind me, holding the bear by one ear...in her teeth.

I'm beginning to think that heavy liquor may be required to make it until kindergarten.

Doesn't quite work that way.

Tue, 02 Dec 2008 17:22:49 GMT

Gracie and I are having many, many discussions on the concept of authority, namely that I have it and she doesn't. The latest of which started when driving to a friend's house, when she declared from the back seat, "You have to do what *I* tell you!" in a tone of smug certainty.

"No, I don't. You do what I tell you, because I'm the mommy and you're the Gracie."

*thoughtful pause*

"Can we pretend you're the Gracie and I'm the mommy?"

...and people wonder why I'm tired all the time? Keeping a step ahead of this kid will do it.

Thought I was ready for interference...

Thu, 13 Nov 2008 04:40:09 GMT

So my darling daughter is coming up fast on her third birthday, and is apparently determined to take full advantage of the remaining few months of two-ness available to her. We've had many, many...conflicts. Most of which she retells to me a day or two later, in an utterly cheerful tone of voice. ("Remember when I hitted you and we couldn't go to the store? That was nooooooo fun.")

But. Took her to a McDonald's playground today (and it's an awesome thing; I would've killed for a playground like that when I was a kid), where she played with assorted random kids while I had lunch with friends and watched through the window. The playground has a covered spiral slide. Remember this, it's important. When it was time to leave, the kidpack was down to Gracie and one reasonably articulate small boy, who I'm guessing was an advanced five years old.

So after the standard discussion where I give her the chance to come along like a civilized human being (I figure if I outline the steps often enough, she may try following them one day), things got fraught. From Gracie there was setting of jaws and planting of feet, from me there was fast-fading rationality.

Me, maintaining Pathologically Reasonable tone: "OK, honey, one more time up the stairs and down the slide."

Gracie, making no move toward stairs or slide: "Lots and lots of times!"

*repeat x2 or 3 while things escalate toward the dread Spanking Threat*

Me, doing the "Mommy's not backing down" thing: "Out of the playground on the count of three, or I'll have to swat you. And I don't want to swat you in front of other kids."

Small boy, helpfully: "I can turn around."

Eyeroll. Gracie grasps the notion that I Mean It about going home, meekly climbs stairs and goes down the slide. When she sees me approaching with shoes and socks in hand, scowls and proceeds to try and climb back up the slide to try and get away from me. This would be more effective if she didn't keep, well, sliding. I inform her that I will carry her to the car* if she doesn't sit still for shoes and socks. More scrabbling ensues.

Small boy, earnestly: "I think you can smack her now."

I thought I was only supposed to worry about interference from adults...?

*I have done this. I have done it with her in my arms and chanting "Mommy, Mommy, you no nice, you no nice", and I have done it with her slung over my shoulder and screaming bloody murder. We won't even talk about the time I had to cart her out of the local museum in a stroller, angled parallel to the floor like a cute little Hannibal Lecter so she couldn't drag her heels.

Cute. Stubborn, but cute.

Tue, 05 Aug 2008 02:53:23 GMT

Discussion with the child tonight, as she was busily playing a tractor when she needed to get ready for bed: "Gracie, time to read stories." "No! Tractors don't like stories and so don't Gracies."

Oh Lord...

Thu, 31 Jul 2008 15:37:59 GMT

Changing diapers this morning, and the child poked her stomach and said "What's that?"

"That's your belly button."

She giggled. "Noooo, that's a hole where the woodpecker pecked."

My daugher, the literalist

Sat, 05 Jul 2008 00:53:39 GMT

So Gracie thwacked her knee on the (wooden) side of her bed and was understandably distressed. I did the standard Mommy thing and kissed her knee with explanations of how kissing it would make it better. She promptly curled up into a ball and kissed her own knee.

She boogies down at the slightest provocation and was happily dancing on the porch when she proclaimed "Mommy! I can do a belly dance! Wanna SEE?" Somewhat bemused, I told her to show me. She proceeded to jump up and down in place while slapping her stomach.

Well, I suppose that counts...

Words words words, vol. 2

Wed, 18 Jun 2008 00:13:31 GMT

So the child just got her first swat in about four months, after digging three or four times in my beading supplies bag - which, aside from fragile and/or easily unstrung beads, contains numerous poking/cutting/pinching implements. The first two times, she got explanation plus an attempt to shift her attention; the third time, she was looking directly at her father and daring him to do something about it. Hence the butt-swat.

Which was why we wound up with a Babycuda parading around the bedroom and declaiming "...and I have a bag and I push and pull in it and if Mommy wants to play with it I say NO!! and take it away 'cause it's MY bag and I carry it." At length. In detail. I gave her a short string of beads to play with, and she further salved her wounded pride by refusing to let me touch them.

Meanwhile, it's been forty-five minutes, we just put her to bed, and I distinctly heard "..and I put them in MY bag and carry around." She's got a whole dialogue going with stuffed animals asking to play with her nonexistent beads as she gleefully refuses them.

And I thought I held grudges...

Words words words!

Tue, 17 Jun 2008 17:00:07 GMT

Apparently my daughter's either going to be a freestyle rapper or a tour guide. Or possibly a nature-documentary narrator, given that cats inspire her to wild flights of verbal genius.

In the bathtub last night, Fat Cat decided to jump up on the counter and supervise from the comfort of the bathroom sink. (Dubious comfort at best, since he can only squeeze about half his mass into the sink.) Gracie was playing in the tub and started narrating without missing a beat: "...and his name's Wivingston and he have paws and he's in the sink and he's FAAAAAAAAAT and comfortable..."

We went to the pet store this morning (poor man's zoo, with air conditioning. What more could you ask for?) and stopped by the cattery up front where they keep a few adoptable cats to charm people. Accordingly, we were quite charmed by the little orange Scottish Fold who very politely rubbed his cheek across both our hands. I told Gracie that cheek-rubbing was how cats said hi; she brightened up and said "Hello kitty! My name's Gracie and this is Mommy."

More cat negotiations

Mon, 02 Jun 2008 15:25:10 GMT

So I'm too tender-hearted to just say "get out of here, you fuzzy bastard!" when removing a cat from someplace it's not supposed to be (the counter, the top of my monitor, the sofa when I want to sit down). Generally it's scoop up, scratch behind the ears, say something affectionate and put the cat down.

Gracie's apparently picked this up from me, and demonstrated it when Fat Cat decided to jump up on the kitchen table this morning. "Wivingston, we wove you and wove you, but you can't sit on the table and have Mommy's breakfast. Kitty get down!"

I don't know whether to laugh or cry (or just wince)...

Thu, 29 May 2008 16:41:45 GMT

...but my daughter went and made her first pun.

Dinnertime, and Husband Unit and I are trying to have a real live conversation without making her feel left out. At some point I get an "I yove you!" from the baby, and tell her I love her too. She grins wickedly and says, "nooooo, you yove me THREE! Do you yove me four?" We made it all the way up to eight before she lost interest.

On second thought, I think I'll skip both previous reactions and go straight to "awwwww".

At least this is one area where she's behind.

Wed, 09 Apr 2008 15:33:48 GMT

So at two-and-a-quarter years, last night saw Gracie's first official NO! moment. She's recently decided that Naps Are for the Weak and consequently was very, very overtired when it got around to actual bedtime.

Gracie's usual way of getting around parental orders is to say "Maybe I can..." and come up with something she'd rather be doing. Negotiations never go anywhere, but this doesn't seem to upset her. So last night at bedtime, there was the usual warm-n-fuzziness, with stories and goodnight kisses and standard baby fare. Then we announced "Time to go to bed, Gracie." She considered a moment, flopped down flat on the floor, and gave us a muffled "Maybe I won't."

Followed two seconds later by a completely simultaneous, completely unrehearsed "Oh, yes you will" from both parents. We somehow got her in bed, beared and blanketed before making it out into the hall and cracking up.

Great, she's gonna be a paramedic...

Tue, 08 Apr 2008 13:34:46 GMT

Gracie's latest achievement is mastering the art of the belly flop.

I take no responsibility for this whatsoever.

But it's great fun to watch her clamber onto the bed, wiggle to be sure her weight's set properly, and yell "WOP!!" as she topples.

The other Great Baby (mis?)Adventure was yesterday's bird rescue. We were out walking when we found a mockingbird trapped on somebody's screened porch. I carefully explained that we couldn't chase the bird, and she couldn't try to pet him because "he gets scared easily, just like Bo". (Having a semi-feral rescue cat has done an amazing amount toward teaching her some empathy.) So I told her we would have to find somebody at the apartment office to get the bird out of the porch "so he can go home".

Gracie CHARGED off to the apartment offices, burst into the office, and told the manager at great speed and volume about the bird who was trapped in the porch, and how he was scared and stuck and needed to go home. I could pick out about one word in three; the poor manager got lost after "birdie". As best I can transcribe it, it went "bliggle bliggle birdie stuck bliggle LOUD URGENT bliggle, birdie scared, bliggle we have to save the birdie!!"

So the manager and I duly reassured her and we went back home, accompanied by the imaginary brown dog that's been showing up for most of our walks lately. ("I see a bown dog." "Where?" "In the tree.") She told Husband Unit all about her bird-rescuing adventures (thankfully at a slower speed) and eventually went to sleep, still very proud of herself.

A request...

Tue, 29 Jan 2008 15:42:50 GMT

In the aftermath of my mother's death, I was thinking about Gracie and how crazy Mom was about her. I seriously doubt Gracie will be able to remember her, so I was hoping I could get people to come here and post a story or two in the comments section, especially anything about Mom's reaction to Gracie. I've written down what I knew of (including the time during my pregnancy that Mom missed her freeway exit because she was gleefully yelling "BAAAAAAAABY baby baby baby!") So if anybody has anything they want to add, that would be very much appreciated; I'm planning to print them out and add them to Gracie's baby book.

This site's set up to allow anonymous comments, so you don't have to worry about having an account with Livejournal to post.

Thanks,

Avery

Also:

Mon, 28 Jan 2008 23:23:59 GMT

Gracie's opinion of recycling, after seeing me in my favorite do-the-chores raggedy shirt: "Ooooold shirt. Mommy throw in the trash, get new shirt." Then, after a thoughtful pause, "Poor Mommy."

Long-delayed update, plus Be Careful What You Wish For...

Mon, 28 Jan 2008 21:33:47 GMT

So a month or so back, I was worried about the baby's mental development because I hadn't seen her playing pretend, which my vast library of toddler books said she should've been doing by then.

Then she started looking for mermaids in the shrubbery, and I figured we were doing all right.

Fast-forward to this morning's walk, where she found a fire hydrant that alternated between being a fireplace ("Pile eeves on it, make a fire, see in the dark!") and a set of bongo drums (WHAM wham WHAM wham WHAM), a pile of pinestraw around a tree that was promptly dubbed "slippery slippery mountain", and a patch of bare dirt that she informed me was quicksand ("Stuck, pull me OUT!"). There was also the afternoon we spent stomping around the house and "Arrrr!"-ing ("Mommy BIG pirate. Gacie TEENY pirate."). Somehow, I'm not worried about her mental development any more.

Meanwhile, the baby's officially two, God help us all. Her party was a small cupcake-and-crayon affair, and she is in love with the little Fisher Price farm we bought her. She's about as willful as anyone would expect (possibly more so) but makes up for it with moments of appalling sweetness. Such as the other day when I was reading to her on the bed; she levered herself up, aimed carefully, and kissed me on the nose before announcing "mmmm-WAH! I kiss Mommy onna nose." This makes up for a lot of craziness.

Because I'm too harried to do an in-depth post...

Mon, 10 Dec 2007 03:33:00 GMT

Recent baby quotes:

She planted both hands and feet on the floor, looked upside down at me from the London Bridge-shape she'd just made, smirked and said "Sideup down!"

Upon seeing a kid's TV character in royal regalia, complete with one of those crowns with the red velvet poufs behind the spires, she looked at me in mild confusion and said "Cupcake on head?"

"Hat!" (proclaimed as she upends a soup bowl/oatmeal bowl/fruit cup/plate of chicken on her head. Thankfully, they're generally empty.)

She's gotten obsessed with Disney's Winnie the Pooh recently. Has everybody down pat except for Kanga, who she insists is "Mommy Roo".

After visiting a new church, one of their deacons stopped by to visit. We opened the door; Gracie beamed and proclaimed "Pizza!" This says more than I'd like about my dietary habits.

Eating breakfast in her highchair, she proclaimed "I kick 'a table!" *thud* *thoughtful pause* "I hurt 'a toe."

And my current favorite: she's allowed to sleep with a single book each night. Last night it was "One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish", which she was holding upside down when I carried her to bed. She looked at it thoughtfully and started "reading" from the top down: "Blue fish, red fish, two fish, one fish". So proud of herself.

Bride of Quote of the Day

Sun, 11 Nov 2007 03:31:31 GMT

Overheard this morning, while my husband was watching Gracie and I was working in blissful ignorance:

*SQUAWKreeow!*, followed by the thunderous sound of Fat Cat fleeing.

"Gracie, do NOT tackle the cat!"

"I fall down!"

...I shut the door a little tighter and kept quiet.

Halloween (and All Saint's Day) cuteness

Fri, 02 Nov 2007 02:28:42 GMT

Last night I dressed Gracie up in a pumpkin sweatsuit and took her trick-or-treating with my cousin Andrea and her two sons (4 years old and 8 months old). I had a great time watching Gracie's thought process at the start of trick-or-treating.

First door: "OK, knocking on doors is weird, but the people inside think I'm cute. I can work with this." Massive flirting ensues.

Second door: "...oh, hey, they gave me stuff."

Third door: Imperious wave of hand toward the givers-of-candy.

Gracie's four-year-old cousin was IN LOVE with her and insisted on pushing her stroller everywhere that I would let him. Whenever we got to a house with too many steps for me to roll her up, he would gravely take her bucket along with his, present them both to whoever opened the door, and announce "This is for my baby cousin". So proud of himself.

She spent most of today pumpkinized as well, since we got in too late for me to do anything other than brush her teeth, switch her diaper, and roll her into her crib. Somehow the pumpkin suit survived Gracie's discovery of the (unlit) kitchen fireplace, which I only discovered when she presented me with a double handful of ashes across my lap. She was absolutely thrilled with the indoor sandbox. Later on we hit the park, where I got such pearls of wisdom as "I flying HIGH!" (swingsets) and "Duck say kack kack". I was okay until we passed a three-on-three volleyball game on our way out...Gracie, who has just discovered the joys of playing catch, ran right up to the edge of the court, flung her arms out, and said "Throw Gracie!" So she got to play a very gentle game of volleyball, and went home happy.

Well. That's something of a misstatement. She was very happy about having played ball with all the new people, once she got done screaming at me about taking her away from the new people. So it wasn't a case of going home happy so much as realizing, twenty minutes after we got home, that she was happy.

Mon, 08 Oct 2007 17:06:55 GMT

Husband Unit says that he knows it's going to be good when the phone call starts off with, "YOUR daughter..."

The good news: Gracie has now learned how to say the names of both cats. (The reason that this is good news is not, as you might think, that it's a sign of her linguistic prowess and/or caring for all living creatures; it's more that now I know which cat is the target of her planned mayhem.) She's had no trouble with Bo the Flat Cat, but Livingston the Fat Cat has been more difficult. After months of calling him "cat", she's settled on "Ivings".

This is important to know, just so y'all can understand the apprehension I felt when I heard "Pliers, pliers, pliers, pliers...Ivings, come here!" this morning while I was working at the table. I looked around the corner just in time to see Gracie and the plastic pliers from her baby toolset coming for Livingston with intent. And then she very gently closed the pliers on a hank of his fur, opened them up again, said "Sorry, kitten" and toddled off. Then she repeated the process on me ("Sorry Mommy.") and started for Bo the Flat Cat. Who, being much more intelligent than Livingston, had wedged himself in the farthest, highest corner of the living room the second her beady baby eyes fell on him.

There's days I wish I could do the same.

Quote of the Day, vol. 2

Mon, 01 Oct 2007 14:20:37 GMT

So yesterday the baby unloaded a huge, massive, epic diaper, complete with billowing clouds of stink. Between the sheer amount of, er, product and the necessity of restraining wandering baby hands,it took me and Husband Unit both to clean it up, plus a certain amount of operating-room coordination. ("Wipes." "Wipes." "Diaper." "Diaper." "More wip- ewwwww!" "More wipes.") In the middle of which, Gracie remarks sagely: "Dirty butt, diaper."

Can't say she's not observant.

Verbal adventures

Sat, 29 Sep 2007 01:34:09 GMT

At 3:00 this afternoon, I told my stepfather that Gracie hadn't done anything particularly noteworthy in the last 24 hours.

This may have been a mistake.

She took it as a dare, and within two hours had gleefully stomped over all kinds of toddlerish verbal-development milestones. To wit:

3:15 Gracie decides it's snacktime, and presents me with a perfectly clear and perfectly confident "Cookie, please."

3:30 Gracie at the store. Points at picture of a boy balancing an apple on his head, and tells me "Apple hat". Bliggles and babbles her way through the store, requests broccoli ("Bak-kee!") and bread, and attempts to eat several zucchini through the plastic bag. I took it away from her, and a moment later heard a very small, very determined "have it BACK."

4:30 Driving home. I pretty much tuned her out when she started making generic happy-baby noises - she likes to tell the world about it when she's had a good time at the store. When the babble got a little more purposeful, I started listening again, and realized that she was very quietly counting to herself. She made it all the way up to eight without missing a beat and without being prompted. We got home, looked at some cat pictures, and found one of a cat and two kittens. "Fwee cats!" I was a bit surprised, since I'd had doubts about her abilities to distinguish between one, two, and "more than one", and asked her to count them. "One two fwee." Much baby praise ensued, also much baby excitement and "one two FWEE one two FWEE!" Which worked beautifully until she got overexcited and it came out "one tee fwoo". Having your mother fall off her chair laughing is probably not conducive to toddler stability...

Quote of the day (possibly the month)

Mon, 24 Sep 2007 03:26:38 GMT

Overheard on the baby monitor as Husband Unit was getting the baby ready for her bath: "Yay, what a helper you are! And the first thing we do is...OK, the FIRST thing we do is take Mommy's underwear off your head..."

Followed by loud protestations as Gracie was cruelly deprived of her new headgear.