I'm just minding my own bloggin' business, posting, editing, writing, editing, collecting drafts of messages, you know, the usual. I'm not bothering anyone. Lo and behold! A comment! Hooray! They love me, they really love me. Wait a second - this sounds a bit fishy.
"I read your blog and found it insightful"
Why yes, my blog IS insightful.
"Why don't you read my blog"
Well, it is only fair, since you, Lance, read my blog and found it insightful. Sure, I'll click and read yours....your blog about...what IS this blog about?
Ok, so I fell for it the first time, but as some guy named Roger Daltrey once said "I won't get fooled again". Lance and friends, your comments have been deleted. PERMANENTLY. So take that! And now I've turned on "word verification". Fancy stuff for this very fancy blog.
Damn you blammers!
Monday, January 30, 2006
Saturday, January 21, 2006
Where does juice and water come from?
My daughter regularly sings only two verses from the song "Farmer in the Dell" from Baby Macdonald: the chickens give us eggs and the cows give us milk. She launches into these solos in her beautiful, almost shouting, slightly out of tune glorious little voice. She has also deducted that milk comes from cows and eggs come from chickens. Brilliant, I know.
As an aside, we give our daughter watered down apple juice to drink. More affectionately referred to in our house as one word "juiceandwater".
One morning this week, after singing a rousing two-verse rendition of "Farmer in the Dell" and before taking a big sip of juiceandwater, my daughter turns to me and asks "Where does juiceandwater come from?" My husband and I look at each other in stunned disbelief. It was our first "tough" question that deserved a well thought out and reasonable answer. And I didn't want to over complicate things and give her more of an answer than was necessary. I tend to do that sometimes.
"Apple juice comes from apples"
"Apple juice comes from apples??!!"
"Yes, apple juice comes from apples"
And that was that. I never did get around to explaining water. We'll save that for next time.
As an aside, we give our daughter watered down apple juice to drink. More affectionately referred to in our house as one word "juiceandwater".
One morning this week, after singing a rousing two-verse rendition of "Farmer in the Dell" and before taking a big sip of juiceandwater, my daughter turns to me and asks "Where does juiceandwater come from?" My husband and I look at each other in stunned disbelief. It was our first "tough" question that deserved a well thought out and reasonable answer. And I didn't want to over complicate things and give her more of an answer than was necessary. I tend to do that sometimes.
"Apple juice comes from apples"
"Apple juice comes from apples??!!"
"Yes, apple juice comes from apples"
And that was that. I never did get around to explaining water. We'll save that for next time.
Monday, January 16, 2006
The spoken word
It's like she was waiting her whole life to talk to us. She had so many things to say in those early months but we just couldn't understand. I made a decent attempt, I really did. Now, 2 years later, I get a running commentary from the moment she wakes to the moment she sleeps. I hang on to her every word. It's like the most engaging conversation I've ever had. I love the sound of her little voice, singing, laughing, telling me about her day. She really is an amazing little creature, understanding and learning with everything she absorbs from the world around her. I see the world from her perspective. She tells me she loves me. It really doesn't get any better.
There are still days when I look at her, listen to her talking and wonder how I used to piece this all together. All those months of what essentially was an elaborate guessing game. Each cry could mean an infinite number of possibilities from hungry to tired and everything in between. And I actually did figure out what it all meant. I knew what cry meant sad and what was a downright outrage. I deciphered the difference between the whining for 'I'm bored' and those that meant 'pick me up now'.
It is so wonderful to all be speaking the same language now. We sit and talk together. She's memorized her favourite books and 'talks' them to me. She gets some words mixed up - like calling the letter x "eggs". She sings songs. She sings!! If I thought the sound of her voice talking was amazing, singing is definetly on some other euphoric level. Nothing, nothing is sweeter than the sound of her singing.
There are still days when I look at her, listen to her talking and wonder how I used to piece this all together. All those months of what essentially was an elaborate guessing game. Each cry could mean an infinite number of possibilities from hungry to tired and everything in between. And I actually did figure out what it all meant. I knew what cry meant sad and what was a downright outrage. I deciphered the difference between the whining for 'I'm bored' and those that meant 'pick me up now'.
It is so wonderful to all be speaking the same language now. We sit and talk together. She's memorized her favourite books and 'talks' them to me. She gets some words mixed up - like calling the letter x "eggs". She sings songs. She sings!! If I thought the sound of her voice talking was amazing, singing is definetly on some other euphoric level. Nothing, nothing is sweeter than the sound of her singing.
Friday, January 13, 2006
Blog on, man
Despite my attempts to resist blogs - maybe it's just the name I dislike - I find myself drawn to post another piece. I was tickled pink to find that someone had left me a comment too! How cute!
I was also truly inspired by fellow mom Char who has started her own blog - with pics and links and everything!
Now I might even tell someone else I know about my blog (call me wild 'n crazy!) so maybe they'll come back to visit and read my inane ramblings. That's the whole point, isn't it? However, that would mean I'd have to write something more often than once a year.
The excitement is just too much.
I was also truly inspired by fellow mom Char who has started her own blog - with pics and links and everything!
Now I might even tell someone else I know about my blog (call me wild 'n crazy!) so maybe they'll come back to visit and read my inane ramblings. That's the whole point, isn't it? However, that would mean I'd have to write something more often than once a year.
The excitement is just too much.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)