Monkling

Cute Language

Immy is so smart and innovative with her little language. She takes words and adds to them based on things she has heard before. Last week I offered her a scarf for the first time because it was really cold and later that day she was referring to it as a "scarfish." And today she was putting on her rainboots and called them her "rainbow boots." This morning she upended her pink bucket and stepped up on it and said "I talling." As we walked to school to collect Max in the afternoon, Immy was riding on Rob's shoulders and pointed up to the trees and said "trees talling."

Little Monster, cont.

Okay, keep in mind that I adore Immy so much that I think she practically trails glitter and fairy dust when she walks, and that I think that she is so sweet and smart and beautiful that my head is likely to explode. But she has taken to doing two things that are kind of funny, in the evil sense.

First, and most harrowing, she delights in tormenting us by finding choking hazards and deliberately sticking them in her mouth. I'm not talking about the typical baby habit of mouthing everything. She is way beyond that. What she does is find an object just the right size to block her windpipe. Then she holds onto it until she has the perfect opportunity to meet my eye and, laying down the gauntlet, pops it into her mouth with a smirk. She knows that I will shriek and bolt across the room to dig my fingers into her mouth to save her from certain death, which she thinks is about the most hilarious thing on earth. Even worse, if we're not looking at her, she will stick the object in her mouth and proudly announce "I eating." At which point I will scream and fling myself on top of her, digging my fingers down her throat. Yesterday she dug some sort of cylindrical bolt out of the inside of a drawer in her changing table and casually stuck it in her mouth as I was walking by. Given that the changing table was made in China, the metal was probably toxic.

The second thing is her new line in emotional blackmail. Whenever I'm doing something that she doesn't like (changing her diaper, applying diaper rash ointment, brushing her hair, trying to give her a bath), she will call out "Jandra!! Jandra!!" (Alexandra), as in "Jandra, come and save me from my evil mother!" Of course, being pathological, I feel emotionally wounded that she doesn't want her mama. She does it with Rob too. Yesterday, he asked her, "Immy, do you love Dada?" as they were on their way out to the car. And she said "No. I wuv Mama." (Only because I wasn't there to hear it mind you.) Then, when I got into the car with them he asked her again, and she said "No, I wuv Max." And then "No, I wuv doggie." She won't give the lucky recipient of her affection the satisfaction of hearing it!!! Not that we should even be pursuing this avenue of conversation with her at all. We just can't help it because it is so funny.

Brief Solvency Update

We heard that one of the companies that Rob has been in talks with about a job is going to offer him a three- or four-month contract. This is the company that would be creating a whole new position if he were to join. The idea is that during the contract they would figure out how his role would fit in there and then there would be an 80% likelihood of it turning into a permanent gig at the end of the contract. But of course they would be fine with him continuing to pursue other full-time leads during the three or four months because they're not offering absolute certainty. So, there is at least some movement, although it's not definitive . . .

Little Monster

Well, my tiny girl is definitely in the Terrible Two's, even though she is not two until this weekend. Ugh! Yesterday she was grabbing parts of my body and twisting and refusing to let go. And then there's the screaming. But the poor little baby has had a tough time over the last week. She is getting some new teeth, and she has had forest green diarrhea about ten times a day. I know it's supposed to be an old wive's tale that teething and diarrhea go together, but it definitely seems to be true. We've been through a month's supply of wipes in 5 days. The poor little monster is a wreck from head to toe. The cold weather has aggravated her eczema on her calves and her skin is like sandpaper all over. Then there’s the raging diaper rash due to the constant poop issues. Plus she has a cold and keeps vomiting up phlegm that she has swallowed. It’s so delightful. And that doesn’t even take into account the hair!! Poor baby. But she’s still the very picture of cuteness and beauty.

It was Thanksgiving last week and Grandma Ruth and Grandpa stayed with us for five nights, which was lots of fun for everyone. And we had Deb, Joerg, Anni and Ted here for a couple of visits, including a little family birthday party for Immy and Anni on Sunday. Immy doesn't get a friend birthday party this year, as the only little people she really knows are Little Max and Sylvie, who she sees when she goes to Alexandra for 15 hours per week. Next year she'll be planning her guest list.

Here’s Immy’s typical posture lately.

Here’s the birthday cake I made for her little party. She was so cute, talking about her “kitty cat cake.”

Here’s Immy eating her kitten cake.

And here’s Immy and Anni on Sunday.

Here’s what Immy did to the helicopter that Rob made for Max and I decorated. She desecrated the beautiful rotors with a marker.

Finally, the lure of the iPhone. Max and Immy love the virtual carp pond and the fishing game.

Four and a Quarter

Max's teachers send home maths homework every week and last night one of Max's exercises was to write down his age, so he wrote a four and then he started drawing something else next to it. We asked him what he was doing and he said "I'm four and a quarter, so I'm drawing a quarter." And sure enough it was a cute little coin with a person on it. He ended up doing another one next to it. The cuteness makes my head spin. Of course, soon he'll be four and a half. I wonder how he will represent that.

Funny Little Animals

I won't even try to explain this.

Just Like Her Mama

It looks like Immy is destined to be a bit of a wordsmith. One day I had left my Chicago Manual of Style out on the table after I'd finished working and turned around only to find that Immy had put on my work glasses and was leafing through to check the correct use of em-dashes and that vs. which.

"I'm a Googler"

Last week, Max announced out of the blue, "I'm a Googler!" A little perplexed, Rob and I proceeded to question him about what that meant. He explained to us that he was pretending to be someone who sneaks into people's houses to steal things. That same day, he wrapped himself up in a blanket and told us, "I'm a butterfly in a raccoon." Of course, since then he's gotten the words right 99% of the time, and now he's a plain old burgler or a butterfly in a coccoon. It's just so great to see his curiosity over language. Immy, too, is coming into her own. She has an incredible vocabulary for a little girl who is not yet two. She makes the same cute, but impressive, little stumbles as she assimilates new words. She has a couple of shirts with polkadots, and currently refers to them as her "popsicle shirts."

Bolton Fair

I LOVE agricultural fairs! Horses, cows, toffee (candy) apples, fairy floss (cotton candy), fried food . . . What could be better? It takes me back to the days of the Royal Easter Show at the old Sydney showground. Of course nothing could ever be quite that good, but I'm all for trying to re-create those days, so for the past few years we've been taking first Max, then Immy and Max, to New England fairs at the end of summer. Last year we had a great time at the Bolton Fair. It was a gorgeous day and Max rode the little rides and climbed up on tractors and we all ate too much and said hello to plenty of animals. So this year I was dying to do it again. I scoped out the date of the fair and was looking forward to it for months. But just before the fair, which was to take place on the weekend of Sept. 27-28, a giant rainstorm hit. It pelted down for a couple of days and we wondered whether we would be able to go. The day before, I insisted that we go out and equip everyone with gumboots (rainboots) and raincoats, and when we found out that it would be clearing slightly throughout the day, we decided to brave it.

Because of the rain, they couldn't use the field across the road for parking, so we had to park at a local high school and ride to the fairground on a school bus. It was quite a long wait, and as we stood there, we were engulfed in a cloud of mosquitoes. Needless to say, it was highly unpleasant and we couldn't wait to get out of there and get to the fairground. We were horrifed when we got there and realized that the mosquitoes weren't just in one place--they were everywhere, due to the standing water all over the place. It was unbelievable! I couldn't focus on anything because I kept seeing mosquitoes zeroing in on my kids' succulent little faces, necks and hands. Ugh! Also, the entire fairground was a sea of churned mud. They had put straw down on the pathways in an attempt to mop up the mud. We had brought the stroller just in case Immy needed it (and also to carry things in) and muddy straw completely clogged the wheels and Rob ended up having to carry it. We bravely went around and met some animals, constantly terrified that someone was going to slip in the mud. It was awful! Finally, when we had had enough, we had to wait for ages by the road in yet another cloud of mosquitoes for another bus to take us back to the car. Who knows if we'll get our idealism back for another fair next year . . .