Distraction Post
Despite what this may look like, I'm currently in the middle of a creative writing piece. No, really. I just needed to pop away from it for a moment to stuff my face with potato chips and suck down a cherry soda. (My diet is going great. Thanks for asking.)
Actually, yes the diet/exercise routine has been very successful, but I'm gearing up for Shark Week and I don't give a crap about my diet today. I started the day with donuts and haven't made a good decision since. My calorie counter program is going to LOSE IT'S MIND later.
I hope it blows up.
Life continues to be a strange, isolated place for me that I've been filling with exercise and lots playtime with Nora. She's eighteen months old, now, and the changes are probably more subtle, but they gut me. I can watch her and see the shape of the woman she'll become. Maybe that's too far-reaching, but I can definitely see what she will be like as she leaves these frustrating toddler years and heads into full-blown childhood.
Communication is still a tricky minefield of guesswork and furious strategy re-vamping, but we're muddling through. Her current vocabulary, while limited, is getting a lot of mileage. Say what you want, but the kid can do a lot with "Mama, Dada, Up, Out, This, That and (our favorite) Ass." She has a full and deep understanding on how and when to use all of these words in context. You're rarely confused about Nora's needs, or feelings, on a subject.
In case you were wondering, she uses "ass" when she's particularly annoyed with a person, or situation. She'll through her head back, close her eyes and keen. "ASSSSS!!!!" at the top of her lungs. We know that she gets it from me. I'm well-known for hissing "ass" under my breath whenever Adam annoys me, or screaming it at top of my lungs from the bottom of the stairs. I just didn't realize that Nora was picking up on it because she's demonstrated so little interest in learning to speak.
We have games, now, that we have to play. Creations of my non-verbal toddler, where the rules are fully developed, but locked in her mind. Woe to those that fail to play correctly. She will shun you; yanking the toy from your grasp and stomp away, her hips swaying aggressively back and forth. It's probably the most hilarious thing I've ever seen.
She's developed a dislike for my singing, which is particularly bad for her because I sing everything. I do. It's off-key and poorly rhymed, but I've never cared. Now, though, I have to catch myself because Nora will squeeze her eyes shut and place her hands over her ears to block me out. Yep. Flattery will get you everywhere, kid.
My mental collection of adorable stories is growing. Just a few days ago Nora insisted I give her a "pedicure." I have no idea where she learned it from, or if it's seeped into her through osmosis because we let her play on a Hello Kitty couch, or what, but it was something that happened. And she looked so happy, head thrown back in her pleather recliner, little toddler toes flexing in my hands as I rubbed the emery board across them, gently ticking each tip. My kid was humming with contentment. Who can resist that?
What I love is that Nora may play with her dolls and force me into tea time, but it's balanced with climbing onto the back of her rocking horse and standing up, or going outside and digging in the dirt. Today, for instance, Adam tells me that she ate a grub worm. No fear on that kid, right?
And she's doing all of this developing, but she's not pigeon-holing herself into one thing. Each week is something new. Sometimes she comes back to old favorites, too. I love that I have this time with her. I'm happy that she's doing so well on her own. I'm getting off pretty easy. She's rather fantastic all on her own and doesn't need me to muck any of it up.
Actually, yes the diet/exercise routine has been very successful, but I'm gearing up for Shark Week and I don't give a crap about my diet today. I started the day with donuts and haven't made a good decision since. My calorie counter program is going to LOSE IT'S MIND later.
I hope it blows up.
Life continues to be a strange, isolated place for me that I've been filling with exercise and lots playtime with Nora. She's eighteen months old, now, and the changes are probably more subtle, but they gut me. I can watch her and see the shape of the woman she'll become. Maybe that's too far-reaching, but I can definitely see what she will be like as she leaves these frustrating toddler years and heads into full-blown childhood.
Communication is still a tricky minefield of guesswork and furious strategy re-vamping, but we're muddling through. Her current vocabulary, while limited, is getting a lot of mileage. Say what you want, but the kid can do a lot with "Mama, Dada, Up, Out, This, That and (our favorite) Ass." She has a full and deep understanding on how and when to use all of these words in context. You're rarely confused about Nora's needs, or feelings, on a subject.
In case you were wondering, she uses "ass" when she's particularly annoyed with a person, or situation. She'll through her head back, close her eyes and keen. "ASSSSS!!!!" at the top of her lungs. We know that she gets it from me. I'm well-known for hissing "ass" under my breath whenever Adam annoys me, or screaming it at top of my lungs from the bottom of the stairs. I just didn't realize that Nora was picking up on it because she's demonstrated so little interest in learning to speak.
We have games, now, that we have to play. Creations of my non-verbal toddler, where the rules are fully developed, but locked in her mind. Woe to those that fail to play correctly. She will shun you; yanking the toy from your grasp and stomp away, her hips swaying aggressively back and forth. It's probably the most hilarious thing I've ever seen.
She's developed a dislike for my singing, which is particularly bad for her because I sing everything. I do. It's off-key and poorly rhymed, but I've never cared. Now, though, I have to catch myself because Nora will squeeze her eyes shut and place her hands over her ears to block me out. Yep. Flattery will get you everywhere, kid.
My mental collection of adorable stories is growing. Just a few days ago Nora insisted I give her a "pedicure." I have no idea where she learned it from, or if it's seeped into her through osmosis because we let her play on a Hello Kitty couch, or what, but it was something that happened. And she looked so happy, head thrown back in her pleather recliner, little toddler toes flexing in my hands as I rubbed the emery board across them, gently ticking each tip. My kid was humming with contentment. Who can resist that?
What I love is that Nora may play with her dolls and force me into tea time, but it's balanced with climbing onto the back of her rocking horse and standing up, or going outside and digging in the dirt. Today, for instance, Adam tells me that she ate a grub worm. No fear on that kid, right?
And she's doing all of this developing, but she's not pigeon-holing herself into one thing. Each week is something new. Sometimes she comes back to old favorites, too. I love that I have this time with her. I'm happy that she's doing so well on her own. I'm getting off pretty easy. She's rather fantastic all on her own and doesn't need me to muck any of it up.
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