BOOM

The language explosion has begun. Just as everyone said it would, in all those books and blogs, when 18 months hit.

All of a sudden, overnight almost, something clicked in Megan's head, and BOOM, she's imitating and trying to imitate everything she hears. She's understanding entirely too much of what we say to her and in her presence. At dinner tonight, she was reaching for something off of Brad's plate and he said "say please" and she said "pees" or maybe it was just "eeez" but it was good enough. Then he gave it to her and asked her to say thank you. And she was close! Close enough that my mom, Brad, and I all understood that she was trying to say "thank you."

Imagination is arriving alongside language too. Every doll gets "fed" some of whatever Megan is eating. Today she was even feeding her doll plastic food at daycare while we watched and clucked with pride. Then later she was pretending to cry, because my mom had spent the day with her and played "This little piggy" but when they'd get to the last little piggy, the wimpy one who cried wee wee wee all the way home, my mom would pretend to cry, just to emphasize what a wimpy little girly-boy that particular pig was. Megan soaked it up and can now pretend-cry sort of on command. If she's provided with the context of the little piggies.

Where there is no imagination, there is work. And so far my crazy kid LOVES her some chores. Dishes? MOMMA PLEASE LET ME WASH DISHES! Garbage to throw away? PLEASE MOMMA NOW! Toilet to flush? COME ON MOMMA, I MUST! Doll to push around bossily? OF COURSE!

So although her diction is nowhere near as good as mine, and she still can't pronounce many words in a way that others understand, my perfect amazing daughter is absolutely racing towards speech and I find myself along for the ride instead of leading. This is parenthood in a nutshell isn't it? Being blown away repeatedly by one's brilliant spawn, to the point where one pretty much exclusively devotes a blog to detailing spawn's accomplishments and NOT CARING how annoying such gloating just may be. Then having to pay for stuff, and maybe losing sleep here and there. Over and over and over...

A Close Encounter of the Socially Inept Kind

On Sunday It Happened. For the very first time.


We were out shopping waaaay past Megan's naptime ("Da-Dyyye" as she says), and I saw this woman who looked vaguely familiar. My usual instinct in such situations is to turn around and go the other way, or pretend to be looking at something intently enough that it looks like I just "don't see" her/him. I know..... normal people respond to seeing someone they know or may know with a smile, eye contact, maybe even "hi" or "hi, I can't remember where we know each other from" once the other party has shared the eye contact & smile.


Me, I flee the other way to avoid the whole interpersonal contact thing. I have no idea why, but nine times out of ten this really is my instinctive response.


So back to Sunday, I'm chasing Megan around MEC, letting her carry around a little pink backpack and I hear this "Eva?" from the aforementioned vaguely familiar looking woman.


I assess, determine that I can't escape interaction now, and respond. Something creative like "Yes?" Then I totally recognize Clara and get a case of the nerdy/geeky/socially inept. Like she's a celebrity or something since we've never met in person ("IRL" as all the kids say). Cause, Clara, you are a great writer who puts together coherent, intelligent posts despite being full time mom to two little boy toddlers. And great writers, like great athletes or great musicians or great legal minds, INTIMIDATE me.


So I mumbled a few times that "this" had never happened to me before (meaning running into a blogger! in public! locally!) then asked where her boys were. OF COURSE they were home napping, which is where toddlers belong at 2:30pm. I know this one! And I got it wrong, 'cause my kid's running around trying desperately to find breakable stuff at an outdoors store, and she's all calm and composed meeting ME because her kids are home napping.

Sigh.



Chalk this one up to yet anoth-ah instance where I prove to myself and others that, yes, I may be a dork with marginally-acceptable-at-best social skills. I still feel my face getting all hot from how embarassed I was at such a quickie, minor encounter!


Um, yeah.


So you wanna see my kid in her latest nerdy-but-cute-until-she's-still-doing-it-when-she's-12 favourite pose?

Shh, don't tell her that's a remote control and not a phone. Then she won't repeatedly say "hi" in her little chipmunk/teletubby voice for hours, or at least, minutes on end.

That one's a real phone!

Houston, We May Have a Problem

Foods Megan Likes - not just as condiments but, hey, tip that little container back and swallow as if it's a thick beverage! or dip veggie dogs/edamame/carrot sticks/pasta right in, swirl it around and YUMYUMYUM:

ketchup
mayonnaise
ranch-y dips
bbq sauce

Foods I strongly and vehemently fear, loathe, and detest - by sight, smell, and of course TASTE:

ketchup
mayonnaise
ranch-y dips
bbq sauce

Your love...

... is better than ice cream

Better than anything else that I've tried...

Thanks to Ikea, Megan had her first ice cream cone for dessert after our classy dinner out (also at Ikea) last night.

I think it's safe to say that she liked it. That it was a fairly mind-blowing experience.

And when the icky mess got to be too much for her momma to handle, when it was caking into her neck creases, and when her daddy took away the cone with its remaining ice cream and threw it into the garbage to preserve her momma's sanity, Megan was so stunned by the wondrous experience that she couldn't even get it together enough to cry or protest.

Which was a fairly mind-blowing and unprecedented experience for Megan's momma and daddy.

The end.