Lucy may be having an existential crisis. In the car tonight, she asked, "What does it mean mean?" And I was like, huh? What does it mean mean? She repeated herself a few times until I understood — "What does 'what does it mean' mean?" A question within a question wrapped up in an epistemilogical enigma.
Me, carefully: "Well, I think it means you don't understand something and want me to explain it to you."
Lucy: "Oh."
Next week: God.
We had the best morning ever. Jason left for Dallas around 6:15, so I got up and got myself ready because I was worried how the morning would go without him. I woke her up about an hour later and she was HAPPY, which never happens. We snuggled up in the bed and watched Sesame Street, which was especially good this morning because it had a bit about Goldilocks. We sang the Three Little Bears Song and talked about porridge, which was the perfect segue to breakfast.
She wanted a peanut butter and honey sandwich, and when I tried to give her just bread, she said, "Mom, that sandwich is EMPTY." We laughed a lot about that. And she wore Duck on her head like a shiek all during breakfast, which was also funny.
On the way to school, we talked about when we'd go back to Laney's and play dress-up (Laney, naturally, has the BEST dress-up box around). When I dropped her off, she put her Care Bear (who is actually a dog) in the Show and Share Box, and we agreed on two hugs, two kisses and two high-fives. As I walked off, she shouted, "Later, Mom." Then she went inside carrying her bag and her lunchbox. And I have been thinking about her ever since.
This post would be longer except this blog is about Lu, and what I am about to write has nothing to do with her. Well, it does have to do with the happiness of her mother, which any shrink will tell you is important to Lucy's sense of well-being. Anyway, about the Sexy, and whether it was or was not lost or out of style or missing in some way...I can safely say that Justin Timberlake did, indeed, bring it back tonight. JT delivered some happiness to a certain post-ingenue (and about 4 million others) tonight.
That is the name of the game show we are playing at our house. As in, "Lu, do you want to cooperate or do you want consequences?' She doesn't actually know what consequences are, but she will shriek, "NOOOO!! No consequences. Cooperate! Cooperate!" And she does.
Lucy knows a lot of words and when to use them, but not exactly what some of them mean:
• Sneezes, says, "I think I have a cold." Pause. "Granny, what's a cold?"
• While hiding in our blanket igloo from a snow monster: "Mom, I think we better split up." Me, impressed with her sneakiness: "Good idea." Lu, impressed and confused: "But Mom, what's 'split up?'"
• In the car, Granny points out the traffic. Lu concurs, then asks what traffic is.
Vocabulary aside, her grammar is mind-blowing. She uses the following tenses: past, imperfect (past continuous), subjunctive, present perfect, conditional and some others I don't know. She can describe what she wants to do, what she's done and what she will be doing (oh and what she'd prefer to be doing in the future).
We are in New York having a great time. We have eaten, walked, eaten, and walked some more. Oh yes, and also shopping. And a show. And we went to the US Open to watch Ben and MEW's friend Paul play. He lost (to a one-time #4-ranked French dude), but it was thrilling to be rooting for someone we knew. Jason was thrilled at the possibility of bumping into Maria Sharapova.
Nini stayed with Lucy this weekend, and when I called this morning before they left for school, Lucy reported that they'd been watching Cinderella. In fact, that's ALL she said. She rolled over on Nini, then handed her the phone. I won't go off on an anti-Disney tirade, but Nini knows how I feel about it, and as long as she TAKES IT HOME WITH HER and MAKES IT VERY CLEAR that the whole Disney movie thing is SOMETHING SHE ONLY DOES WITH NINI, we're okay.
Granny will be handling the next two days, so she picked Lucy up from school. I just talked Lucy, and she said, "Mom, I'm using scissors to cut things in your old room." Then she hands the phone to Granny, presumably to keep cutting. I had known Granny was buying some rounded scissors, but am now realizing that it might be a good thing that she hasn't been using scissors, round or otherwise. A healthy fear of scissors is probably the main reason she has a semi-normal, not self-administered hairstyle.
I guess that's what we get when we leave town and rely on the help of family members (which we very much appreciate). But someone should warn Lucy that the prince won't fall in love with her if she gives herself an ugly haircut.
She has been in the perfect mood for the past couple of days. Constant talking, questions and narration. She is either asking me to explain the world to her, or she is explaining it to me.
She is suddenly so much more nuanced in her understanding. Today I was chasing her and tickling her, and she was saying, "No, Mom, don't tickle me." And when I stopped she said, "Don't tickle me, Mom(implied question mark)...When I say it like that it means I do want you to tickle me."
She remains obsessed with gum. I made the mistake of telling her she could have gum when she is four. Yesterday, the dogs got into an ancient stash of bubble gum (leftover Halloween gum Abby brought to our house in 2005, I think). When we discovered it, Lucy ran around picking up the unchewed gum. "Gum is not for dogs. Or for babies. Or for when you're three. It's for when you're four. Or five. Or a grown-up." I am currently saving several pieces for her, and she insists that they stay on display in the kitchen window, presumably for the entire seven months that remain until she can chew them.
Thursday night, we sat in tiny chairs and listened to Lu's teacher, Mrs. Robinson, tell us the rules of the road. She is a charming, bright woman who is undeniably The Boss. I think there must be very little B.S. in her classroom. What there is in her classroom is very well-ordered fun. She emphasized a few key concepts she's working on with "the friends," which is what she calls the kids:
• Finish what you start. Move on to the second thing when you finish the first.
• Everything has a place. Put it back when you're done.
• You can do it yourself. Just try — you know how.
Focus. Order. Independence. If anyone had asked me what values I most wanted to instill in Lu at this age, I would not have come up with any of those. I think would have said "kindness," "compassion," and "creativity." That's why school is good for her. She's learning things we don't really do here.
I have been thinking a lot about the Moses Law — the one that allows people to safely leave small children at firestations, as opposed to leaving them in dumpsters or wherever. This law is really meant for infants. And would not work for us anyhow because Lucy knows her address and could probably give could perfect directions from our neighborhood firestation.
Here is an abbreviated list of the various sources of about 115 fits thrown between 7 and 9:16 (and top reasons Lu almost went to the firestation tonight):
Barbecue. "NO, I WANT SOMETHING ELSE. SOMETHING ELSE, NOT THAT."
Cole slaw. "I DON'T WANT SOME OF THAT. IT'S REALLY, REALLY YUCKY. I WANT A POPSICLE."
Waiting. "I DON'T WANT TO WAIT UNTIL YOU'RE DONE EATING. THAT'S NOT A GOOD IDEA AT ALL. I WANT A POPSICLE NOW."
A fork. More specifically, a popsicle that was cut with a fork instead of a knife. "NO, DAD, PUT IT BACK TOGETHER, PUT IT BACK TOGETHER." Granddad laughed and said he'd like to see how Jason was going to pull that off.
Consequences. Jason explained very calmly that if she kept drinking the bathwater she'd have to get out and skip TV. She screamed, "DAD IS SCREAMING AT ME. DAD, STOP BOSSING ME AROUND."
Shows with "town" in the title. After asking to watch "Higglytown Heroes," she responded to the start of the show with "NO, LAZYTOWN, I SAID LAZYTOWN!!!"
Poor kid. For all my firestation talk, I knew she was tired. She was asleep within less than a minute of lying down. I stroked her hand for about 30 seconds before it went slack. Then I cuddled up with her for a few minutes, enjoying the nicest she'd been to me all day.
