P.s:/
As HRC is getting more verbal by the day, Tash and I are attempting to make her say 'Oy, vey!' and other epithets reminiscent of a Jewish grandmother. We're bad, I know. And Tash has some kind of a Woody Allen complex- so if this gives her an outlet, why the hell not?
Plus, a 2-foot Yenta would be so cute!
Skip This If You're Sick Of Over-Indulgent Parents
It's a Monday morning, and the sun is shining, and the haze has beaten a (hopefull permanent, but I doubt it)retreat. Therefore, I shall eschew (I like that word, you know...'eschew') being depressed about work or being depressed at work or anything that entails connecting the words 'depressed' and 'work' and talk about...something far more cheerful (and cheering).*
HRC has now been out of my womb for longer than she was in it, and for posterior posterity (sorry Ms J, couldn't resist), these are the myriad things she can do, and chooses to do constantly, in order to assert her authority as Princess of the Univere, and don't you ever forget it, bitches.
1. Number of Escape Attempts From Playpen in a Day: 2456, i.e., every minute of every hour.
For the record, playpen is one those inflatable jobbies whose top reaches HRC's nose. There are no rungs or footholds that we can see. So how has does one do a Steve McQueen in such conditions? Apparently, one stacks all one's inflatable and soft toys in the region one wishes to climb over, and one then proceeds to gingerly step on toys, before going on to hang half of one's body over the top of the playpen. So far, all her attempts have been scuppered at this point as some pesky caregiver or other would have noticed and sounded the alarm (consisting of a prolonged: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO)
2. Babble. And babble. And did I mention babblebabblebabblebabblebabble? To me. To her Daddy. To her Tok and Nen. To the fishies. Before she sleeps. When she's watching Elmo (currently the Love Of Her Life). And squeal. When she's bathing. When feeder is too slow in feeding her creamed spinach, because My God, people, creamed spinach is the most delicious thing in the world! (Ed's note: Eww, I know. But whatever works!).
Forgive her mother her indulgence when I tell you that the cutest the in the world is when she babbles to her fingers, or her teether:- "mudutatatatata" followed by a quizzical, "Eeeeh?"
3. Yesterday found HRC taking the remote control in her hand, atually pointing at the the shut-off TV, pressing the buttons, and being annoyed when nothing happened. The remote control was summarily punished by being gnawed on.
4. I'm thinking of plastering a warning on the kid's forehead: Warning. Subject May Cause Bodily Injury When Annoyed. Yesterday for instance, she pulled my sister by the collar towards her with one hand and with the other- scratched my sister's face. And added a growl for good measure. Ladies and gentlemen, methinks I gave birth to a Gremlin.
5. Worry not though, because after she's annointed you with a scratch she's liable to grin beatifically at you and squeal. And giggle. And attempt to play peak-and-boo. So, violent and manipulative- be afraid, be very afraid.
*Look, I'm a Mommy-Blogger!
nads went at 16:30