Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Please Hammer, Don't Hurt Me

Two full days with the Bambina.

Need I say more?

Even though I slept in her bed last night with her and woke up after ELEVEN hours (a feat of rest and recuperation not previously achieved since, I kid you not, college), I'm still beat at the end of the day, such is the energy level of this particular three year-old, if not all of them.

She just does not stop, which I love and find amusing and energizing in the moment, but which leaves me tired and incapable of completing a comprehensible sentence at the relatively-early hour of 9pm. Which is why we jokingly say to her lo around 7pm when she is wired and we are hungry and tired, "Please Hammer, don't hurt me," which she finds funny even though she is mercifully uninitiated into the early 90's rap music scene.

Today we were doing arts and crafts (her preschool had one of those teacher in-service days), and we once again had really fun out-there conversations. She was coloring a picture "for God." Oh? How come? "Because he might like one." (Duh, Mama). I bet He'll love it, sweet girl! "I think so too. I'm going to invite him to my birthday. He can come to my party for cake."

She then pretended to "polish" my hair, as in coloring my hair with pretend nail polish. "What color you want, Mama? Blue, purple, green or pink?" Having learned not to answer with a color only to be told "No! Not that one!" I answered, "What color do you think I should have?" but then foolishly added, "Maybe blue?" She answered, "Not blue. That not appropriate for you. I give you pink." I spent the rest of the day wondering where she learned to speak of things in terms of what is or is not "appropriate." The BBDD says, "look in the mirror" but I disagree, and I think it was an inappropriate supposition for him to make. ;)

She then asked me again how babies come out of the mother, like how do they know where and when to go? I'd detail here what I answered, but I'll spare you the claptrap I came up with on a dime that a 3 year-old could comprehend. Something about the baby just knowing when to come and the mother helping by pushing...Memo to read up on this stuff before the next question comes....

She also has learned the word "idiot" at school and delights in saying it over and over again to see if she can replicate the raised eyebrow I gave her (I do not pretend to be anything but an amateur, folks) the first time she uttered it. Couple that with her pretending to be Barbara from the Dan Zanes Band, with the imaginary Dan Zanes wetting his bed, after which I am asked to pull off his wet pants, dry him off, get him a new pair of "big girls" (as we call her Big Girl Underwear), and put them on him--and you have all the makings of a simply fantastic scene that would have us all put in jail should a social worker ever see it. Not to mention that she told me last week two days in a row that Miss Haley (name changed) at school wipes her bum from back to front and that's why she is scratching her crotch. She demanded that someone set Miss Haley straight on proper hygiene, and since I can't set foot anywhere near the building, I promptly volunteered the BBDD to do it.

Last I heard, he thought my drafting him for such a conversation was, quite frankly, not appropriate.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Love your blog, but just had to ask out of curiosity. Does Bambina really talk exactly as you type is, or is it a cute-ification?