Boo-wee-os and Dice

It will probably come as a huge shock to you to learn that my daughter Grace is quite talkative.  In the last month especially, her vocabulary and ability to carry on a coherent conversation has exploded.  Here are some of the things we talk about:

1.  What we smell.  A couple of weeks ago, while dining with her grandparents and uncle, Grace burped then said, “I smell hot dog.”  Since then she has smelled ham, yogurt, and oranges.  We smelled a skunk, she tried to blame it on Hope.  She smelled wet dog, she tried to blame it on her grandmother.  Time will only tell which of those false accusations will cost her most dearly.

2.  Boo-wee-os.  I’m not sure if it is because I’ve been working on a project at church the last three weeks, making and distributing breakfast burritos to our young neighbors, but Grace suddenly has a real affection for the burrito.  I just wish she would eat the burrito instead of disassembling and re-assembling the boo-wee-o all over the table.  It is funny to listen to her talk about what she’s doing like she’s doing her own little Food Network show.  She’s always underfoot or on the chair next to me when I’m in the kitchen cooking and I talk her through everything and she’s definitely internalized some of that, she describes the foods she’s putting on/in her boo-wee-o while she sprinkles the ingredients everywhere.

3.  Where the dice are.  Somewhere Grace picked up a single rolling die, a larger one…an inch cube.  For months it was just in the backseat where I noticed it but Grace never did, until two weeks ago.  

Now, suddenly, the die has to be with us throughout the day but especially when we nap and go to bed at night.  “Where’s my ice mommy? Oh no, I can find it!?  Oh no!  You find it!!  Oh, sank you merry mooch for finding my ice mama.”  She has a closet loaded with handmade blankets, several I’ve crocheted myself–all the while wondering and hoping that this will be the blanket she can’t part with.  She has more stuffed animals than we have room for, most of them brought in by me — I’ve even bought duplicates of the one I hoped she’d attach to.  But no, my kid has to sleep with a die.  And even once the die disappears, it will only be replaced by the tape measure.

4.  What a mess B-Ho is.  I admit that we do not bathe Hope with anywhere near the frequency and regularity that we did Grace.  With Grace it was every single night after dinner, still is.   In our defense, Grace was/is a dirty child.  Hope is very, very clean.  Weirdly, unusually clean.  She has smelly feet, but her feet smell five minutes after a bath too.  Regardless, she’s a very tidy child and is usually pleasantly-scented (God help us all if the terrorists ever learn to weaponize what she does in her diapers).  Still, Grace is concerned by our apparent lack of concern for Hope’s hygiene and has taken to insisting that we bathe B-Ho more often.  Sometimes we oblige, other times we don’t….which she responds to by throwing herself on the floor and crying.

5.  Where everyone should sit.  In any room, in any situation, Grace has become rather assertive with seating arrangements.  “You sit here mama.”  “You sit dare mommy.”  “Come here and sit mext to me for a few minutes.”  “You sit in my playroom.”  “You sit mit we in da bab-bag chair.”

If you would like to speak with Grace in person, she is available for evening phone chats after bath-time.  You’ll need to set aside about 45 minutes and be prepared for a walking tour of our house and to have whichever episode of Curious George is running off the DVR narrated to you.

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