Monday, November 14, 2005


The Girl never stops talking. I know I am repeating myself, but for those of you who don't have a two-year-old at home - they talk NON-FUCKING-STOP. Sometimes it is very cute. Other times, troubling. On occasion, annoying. The annoying talk, usually in the car, goes something like this:

"I don't want Laurie Berkner. I want Chris Isaak." So I switch to the Chris Isaak CD. Twenty seconds later, "Noooooo, mom. I don't want Chris Isaak. I want a monkey song." Switch back to Laurie Berkner, try desperately to remember which track is the monkey song. Pick wrong track. "Nooooo, mooooooom. I don't like this one. I want monkey song." I say, "I'm trying to find it honey..." She continues, "Noooooo, mooooooom. Nooooooooo. Monkey song, moooooom." Find the correct track (#7), play it twice, try to control nervous twitch I have acquired.

Funny talk: When asked how old she is, she replies, "Two an a quarter." She also has a running commentary on who is a member of our family. "Papa is our family. Jackie is family." Um, Jackie is my dad's dog. If she is watching Blues Clues she might also note that Steve is not our family. She is saddened by this.

Troubling: She is starting to understand feelings and knows there are different names for them. She has told me several times she is nervous or worried. Great. Anxiety at 2 and a quarter! Even my dad joked that it runs in the family. OK I will chalk it up to precociousness and not dwell.

A little backstory: I rarely chew gum. The Girl has only had it a couple times when my sis wanted to corrupt her. I always tell her that it's something she can have with Auntie Julie. So when we were checking out at the grocery store, she took my face in her hands and said with all seriousness, "NO GUM."

I cried the other day in front of her (I really don't do this much) and she was so sweet. "You sad mom? You cry? I make you happy, mom. I make you happy."

She also still remembers her pal Maddie who moved to Florida. Whenever we are in her old neighborhood she says with melancholy, "Maddie moved far away. Far away." This has sort of turned into a mantra that she repeats to mark progress on our route home.

And she sometimes gets a bit confused. As I was talking on the phone to my sister, I asked The Girl to be quiet because it was very important business. She answered, "No, mom. It's not important biscuits."

And finally... my mom, The Girl's Nana Jo, died nearly nine years ago. I like to talk about her so The Girl will have some sort of connection to her. When we were at my dad's house last week, I let her pick a little bird figurine to take home with her. I bought it in Mexico and gave it to my mom nearly 20 years ago. I explained that it was once Nana Jo's bird, so she proudly carried it around with her all morning. She even fell asleep holding it in her carseat on the trip home. When we arrived home, she went to Daddy and said, "This is from Trader Joe's." At that point, I went in and took a nap.

1 comment:

V said...

It al sounds like important buscuits to me! Maybe her soul is from the south?

;) V