Sunday, April 17, 2011


Today's post is a copy of one from May 22, 2008. The LGBB was just 22 months old. And I marvel now, looking back, at the character that she had already developed. If that's what one can call it. Nobody commented back then, when I had waaaay less readers than now. So I thought I'd do the whole repost shebang. I'm rewinding with the Fibro this weekend. The topic is 'Waiting'.... And as tenuous a link as this is, I was deep in the throes of waiting for our child to walk. Yes. At 22 months. (she did eventually get there just 3 weeks shy of her second birthday, but when you're putting this much effort into speaking - see below - I guess it's no wonder walking comes a pissy second in your importance)

We're still waiting for the walking to happen. But in the meantime, boy, has this kid got assertiveness all sewn up...

Last night, Steve was walking the LGBB to the bathroom. She was trailing behind taking her baby for a walk in the pusher.

S: C'mon, it's time for a bath.
L: *stops, busies herself* Wait a minute.

With this, the LGBB got to her knees and 'walked'* to the rug, where she had left her "pretty" (her headband is called pretty for some reason), shoved it on her head, smooshed it around a bit so it wasn't doing any of its intended purpose - ie. keeping hair out of ones eyes - and stood back up at the pram saying "Okay" and walked on.

And last night, standing at her table, the all too familiar smell wafted to me as I was starting tea in the kitchen. Yeah. I know. One of those ones if you can smell it from ten paces while you're preparing food. So I call out to her

Me: Hey, Lolly.
LGBB: Yeah? *turns to look at me happily*
Me: Do we need to change your nappy?
LGBB: *pausing, cogs visibly whirring in brain* No?
Me: Are you suuuuuure?
LGBB: *adamantly* NO!
Me: That means you're not sure. So we need to, I think (God I'm mean, catching her out on a slip-up of double negatives)
(now, this is where she would normally just accede and allow me to change her, but I dunno, the combination of little biscuits, her dolls house, The Jackson Five - did I mention? She's a psycho for a high-singin' bit o' young Michael - just about presented her heaven on Earth, apparently)
LGBB: Mummeh! *holds hand out in Stop sign* You go..... Bye Mummy, bye. *I paused* Go-orn, Mummy. In. You go. In kitchen. Go-orn!
(and then she actually pointed to the kitchen and motioned for me to get back in there like she was telling Jazz to get outside)

Steve walked in the door then. What timing! He bundled the LGBB up and I said "We were just going to change Lolly because she's finished her last biscuit now." And before Steve could answer, the LGBB pipes up, "No, Mummy. Kitchen." She stared me down. From the arms of her tall father, my daughter actually stared me down. So I pushed it, didn't I?

Me: But.... your nappy *ok so I was really teasing now*
LGBB: *slight frown, staring at me as if warning me not to explain to Daddy and give her game away - er, as if the stench didn't do that for me* KITCH-EN.

I guess I get the 'tude I deserve. To be perfectly frank, she scares me a little. Absolutely gorgeous and lovely and compassionate and funny. But.... just a spoonful of scary.

So there you have it. A day in the life of Lolly and me at the moment. She's running the rings and I'm in the kitchen.

* Oh, did I mention? "We" are still not walking. First steps is all I could have called what she did a few weeks ago, judging by the knee-'walking' still going on here. Eughhhhhh *sigh*

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