If It Was My Fault, She'd Be Mispronouncing "Truck"

The word is "clock", Peanut. C-L-ock.

The Importance Of Careful Diction

Your mispronunciations are usually very cute, Peanut. Like when you say "Okee" for Okay. But the word Peacock has *two* syllables, not one. Please try and remember that. Especially in public.

I'm Late, Again

My job seems to involve a lot of people yelling at me. I don't mean this figuratively, either. I am speaking of full-out screaming, pounding on furniture, and slamming doors. It didn't use to involve quite so much of this, perhaps because I was able to stay patient with people who were wrong for a while longer than I am now. I do my very best not to say or even imply, "You are a lying moron, and I have proof of this", but apparently I am not able to hide it as well as I used to. Either that, or I have had a remarkable run of luck dealing with complete loons, which is entirely possible, given my former nickname of "Freak-Magnet". Although the yelling today was not actually directed at me, in the act of demonstrating what she would say to the person she was angry at if that person was present, the woman still spent fifteen minutes shouting so hard and pounding the desk she broke out in a sweat. And why are asses always involved in these things? Skanky-ass (me), skinny-ass (certainly not me, but instead the other target, whose ass is on vacation with the rest of her)? You don't see me bringing up the size or relative quality of their asses, though believe-you-me, there is something to be said.

As a result, I am in need of a little love. Something besides the collection notices to keep my morale up enough to dig out the least wrinkled clothes out of the laundry and face the office anew. I am talking about National De-Lurking Week.



As the post title implies, I am late to this event, but I have an excuse, as I was busy being told I was a skanky ho by a woman with a cocker spaniel. Though truthfully, I have been on-time twice since Peanut was born. Still, better late than never. Just one small sentence will make my day, I promise you. And if you've posted before, don't feel as if you aren't welcome. I don't know what sort of love my mother withheld from me as a child that I need to get my self-esteem from people who live in my computer (kidding, Mom), but it does help. In return, I promise that I will make serious time to return emails, respond to comments, and comment on other blogs this weekend.

And if that isn't enough reward for you, you can take your skanky ass back under the rock you came out from.

It's Very Touching!

You know that part of The Heffalump Movie when Lumpy finds her call and trumpets so her mother can find her and the mother (voiced by Brenda Blethyn, by the way), comes crashing through the trees? And then as Lumpy tells her that Roo needs to be saved from that giant tangle of logs, and Mummy looks at Kanga and sees the look of fear/terror in her eyes, and goes over and saves him?

When watching that makes me have to force myself not to weep, you know the hormones are a bit out of whack. And that makes for a long week for Big Daddy.

We'll Work On The Tin-Ear

Peanut has discovered her voice.

She talks non-stop. I can't understand most of what she says unless it is in context, but she is certainly trying. She sings the theme song to Elmo's World charmingly out-of-tune. Her favorite game to enourage us to not put her to bed is to start running through all the things she knows: She'll point to and name the parts of her face and body, she'll count, she'll name colors, she'll do animal sounds--all the things that she refuses to do when we ask during the day.

Which brings us to her other new developmental stage. She has decided sleep is for losers. I know all of you with toddlers who never have slept will be just broken up about this (you know who you are), and for you I will point out that she still doesn't cry about going to bed or me leaving. She just doesn't sleep. She'll lie in bed and talk to herself and to her animals for an hour or more. Occasionally she will call us with requests for juice (denied), milk (usually denied), Pooh book (denied, as we have undoubtedly read her more than one before bedtime), tooter (scooter, denied), and finally, the simple Uppy!, which is sometimes denied and sometimes granted, depending on how low my willpower is at the time. When she finally goes to sleep, she'll wake up an hour or so later, and do it all again. She doesn't usually wake up any later, but she is still pushing her nap later and later with the same tactics at Grandma's house.

What many of you don't know is that right after Big Daddy and I got married, I was diagnosed with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. I spent the next nine or ten months pretty much doing nothing but sleeping and watching Dallas. Watch enough of that and anyone will be ready to either get up and about or kill themselves, so I gradually worked myself up (i.e. walked to the mailbox and back for a few days, then walked out to the car, etc.)to where I could work, but I was not and still am not as energetic as normal people, even with a good night's sleep. I need a lot of sleep to be able to function, and even just one night with poor sleep really screws with me. When Peanut was a newborn, it wasn't as bad as you'd think, because first of all she slept a lot and second of all I always slept with her. It got harder as she got older, but because I was home alone all the time, I was still able to nap when she did. Now, though, I can't do that, so this not-sleeping thing is a little scary for me. While now she is happy talking to herself in her crib, I am afraid that won't last and I will never, ever sleep again.

Anyway, if you're still with me, I will share one milestone she reached last night, finally. I was holding her and she pointed to Big Daddy and said, "Happy! Love you!"  Then later, when trying to keep me from leaving her at bedtime, she announced, with appropriate signs, "Love you! Peanut love you!"

That definitely makes up for some missed sleep.