To add to my feminist mother crisis, the waiter at the Omelettry this morning handed Lucy crayons, paper and a...BARBIE to entertain her while we ate. She promptly began undressing her: "Look, this doll has boobs!"
Then she made up a song that went something like, "Boobs boobs BOOBs boobs boobsboobsboobs..."
This morning on the way to school:
"Mom, boys are cool. Girls are pretty."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because they are."
"I think girls can be cool."
"No they can't. Only boys can be."
"Lucy, do you know what cool means?"
"What?" (What she says when she means, "No, what?")
"Cool is when you're great. I think you're great."
"I'm not great. I'm pretty."
"Lucy, you're great AND pretty."
"No, Mom, I'm just pretty. Can I wear a bow in my hair like Charlize?"
Yes, fine, wear a bow in your hair. Let it be a symbol of your rebellion against everything I stand for.
I rode my bike today! Dropped Lu off at school then cruised into work. I am feeling very proud of the carbon-neutral day I am having.
It's a bird! It's a plane! It's Superdad on a bike! Plus a buggy for his sidekick. The man was almost as excited as the day he got his first Diamondback (and he hasn't owned a bike since).
We bought this rig somewhat impulsively. The walk to and from whatever parking place we find 1-3 miles from the ACL Fest is one we've dubbed the "Trail of Tears." As we tried to figure out the logistics of getting ourselves (and possibly Lu) down to the Fest, we knew it was time for Jason to get a bike. And because pumping a 3.5-year-old on the handlebars is generally frowned upon by Child Protective Services, we also invested in the buggy.
Lucy is going to marry Patrick. Not cousin Patrick, although she adores him. She is going to marry her best (and maybe only) friend at school. She is going to wear a white dress like Cinderella, and Patrick is going to wait for her on the stage . And everyone is going to watch. After that, we will all dance. But she and Patrick will dance by themselves first.
I have no idea where she gets this, but I am afraid. We need to start a wedding fund now.
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).
