Thursday, December 27, 2007

Breaking News!

Gaz just renamed her daddy "T. M. Puffle."

And no, we haven't exposed her to H. R. Pufnstuf yet.

Hot and Cold Running Preschooler

I know part of the trouble is the holiday madness, but these days she really turns on a dime.

Last night she and Mark were putting stickers in a new coloring book and kept saying "I hurt you heart." I'm really not sure what she was talking about; she seemed like she was in a pretty good mood when she was talking, but the subject sounded sad. We reassured her that she in fact makes our hearts feel fabulous, but you know kids and their amazing ability to repeat the same thing over and over. Maybe she just needed to hear how much we love her over and over. She also says a lot of hilarious things still, so don't fret that she's depressed. Usually she bounces back and forth from cheerful to frustrated. It's a little more hair-triggery when she's had more sugary foods than average (that'll learn me to make any pink cookie-gun Christmas trees), but even on a good day she's plenty wacky.

Today, for instance, we got up, she promptly poked herself in the eye with the pointy end of a rattail comb, happily rubbed her owied eye while eating a banana, then completely flipped out because I put butter on her pancake instead of on the plate by itself and wouldn't give her any more butter until she ate some pancake. (Did I mention she's got a profound love of butter? Just butter, all by itself.)

But anyway, we're all doing well here, freakouts and tantrums aside. I also put up the Christmas pictures on my Flickr site, but Gaz interrupted with a tantrum before I was able to label most of them. So give me a little while to recover some sleep and then I'll get that taken care of.

Oops. Time for another fit.

Wednesday, December 19, 2007


Originally uploaded by georgiegrrrrl
Photos from Evansville and beyond are uploaded. Everyone happy? Good. Because you're not getting Christmas presents!

Life has been more of the same. More craziness, more chattiness. We're getting used to it. I'm sure she's said a thousand hilarious things, but they don't stick in my head. I'm so busy setting boundaries and holding the line that there are many things that just don't stick in my head very long.

But the twitchy short-term memory and the endless repeating of cautions and prohibitions will one day pay off. One day. When something finally sinks in through that adorable little skull.

In the meantime, that damaged brain is better equipped to enjoy the ride.

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

a bold new era of perpetual motion

This morning Gaz started the day asking questions like, "Mommy, what 'contraption' mean?" The rest of the morning followed that pattern. "What 'freezing rain' mean? What 'disaster area' mean?" Good times. Mark has been eagerly awaiting the twenty-questions phase. It looks like it's pretty much here.

There's also the little matter of magnets. After buying and making a bunch to keep her entertained and ensure that her art does not fall down from the filing cabinet, I found all our old magnets in a box in my closet. Now she has twice as many number magnets, and is having a great time yelling out random numbers and trying to assemble them out of magnets. Today she declared that 85 was 18, so I showed her how to put the one and the eight together and she promptly replaced the one with the five. But we're moving in a numbers direction, so that's good.

We have a little cheapo toy keyboard around the house these days, and Gaz dragged me into the living room to "hear my music! Come hear my lovely music!" Sometimes what she does to the keyboard actually doesn't sound half bad considering that it's still mostly the random mashing of keys. She also does this very careful, deliberate thing sometimes wherein she will play the keys sequentially from low to high on the "saxophone" sound setting. It's really cute, if she makes a mistake (like hitting two keys at the same time) she'll start over. So maybe she's getting the notion that one key at a time is a good thing, and that if you make a mistake you can start over. I know she's heard enough of me trying to remember "Chopsticks" and "To a Wild Rose." Mark, of course, has already figured out the Wallace & Gromit theme. He has some mad piano skills.

While coloring on the chalkboard this afternoon, I wrote "Gaz rocks!" in a blank space, which inspired the following conversation:
Me: (reading off the board) "Gaz rocks!"
Gaz: No, you rock. That same thing.
Me: Well, you rock too.
Gaz: No, you rock same time.
It would seem that we rock simultaneously.

We had dancing time while waiting for Mark to get home from work and Gaz ran circles around me, saying, "I can't stop for my life!" She actually could, of course, but it was a funny thing to hear her say. I'm not sure where she learned that.

Today was also diaper experiment day--she's slimmed down enough with the constant growing taller that she's back in size 5 diapers. Diaper Fairy, make a note of it! It's nice to not have to try to make the giant diapers stay on for a change. I have no idea how long this will last, but at least diapers don't go bad.

It's been a hilarious, intense, wild day. Soon to be followed by much more of the same, I'm sure. Maybe tomorrow she'll slow down enough to nap.

Thursday, December 6, 2007


Yesterday Gaz removed a scraper from our general child-safe kitchen utensil drawer. She looked at it really closely, and said, "This is for licking!" and proceeded to lick the scraper. Then she handed it to me, saying, "Here, you lick it now." And then she sneezed into the drawer. Full of utensils. I am glad she didn't do this before Sunday's dinner party. (At which she was well behaved, I am happy to report.)

As I typed the above, Gaz was running around saying "Two for a dollar! Two for a dollar!" and patting Mark and I on the backside as she ran around us. "Two for a dollar?" Mark asked. "Two for a dollar you butt!" Gaz replied with a cackle.

But now it's Big Honking Tantrum number 2, so I must go and do something about that.

Monday, December 3, 2007


Last night we had a wee dinner party here. Gaz didn't nap too much, so I wasn't sure how she would do, but she was really good. When she decided she was done eating, she went off to quietly color on her easel for a while, giving Mark and me a chance to finish eating before getting called into duty. Auntie Aiiee also helped with the Gaz entertainment, too, which was much, much appreciated.

Now, I've gone this far without any real scatalogical tales for you, but Mark insists that I blog the following. This evening Gaz was crouched down in the living room doing her diaper-filling thing. She then got up and walked over to her Duplo block tower she built earlier today, patted it, and identified it to Mark as "tower of poop." I have no idea what any of that was about, but we're still laughing about it.

And now for something completely different, Gaz has been talking in her sleep lately. Last night Mark heard her mumble something about turning. Then she laughed and said, "Silly flowers." I only remember the request for nursing that came just after that. I believe she was dreaming about the musical flower pot thing she saw at the nursing home while we were recently visiting my grandpa, but who knows. Maybe all the flowers in her dreamscape are silly. She's also been overheard singing the Dragon Tales theme in the middle of the night. Less fun was the night she woke up asking for her pink comb and then threw a tantrum when I wouldn't let her get up to look for it. But she cheered up before long and gave both Mark and me some imaginary spiders. Because spiders won't hurt you and they aren't scary.

I think we're finally settling into the twoness of Gaz.