Papy's gone...
Jul. 19th, 2004 11:50 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
la_rainette*sighs* ...and the animal conspiracy is up again.
Froglet: MOM! There's a GIANT ANT in the house
Me: WHAT? WHERE?
Froglet (proudly): Don't worry. I squished it.
Me (inwardly): ew ew ew ew EW!
I found a happy Tadpole contemplating the corpse. "EW! Mommy", she predictably exclaimed in delight, "EW!" Yeah, right.
Froglet: MOM!
Me: WHAT?
Froglet: The cat barfed again!
Tadpole: Ew! Mommy, ew cat!
OK, let's get rid of the cat puke.
And then, the car got crapped on by a whole batallion of birds overnight. Aha, I thought, so this is why they call it an unkindness of ravens. *sulks*
We all miss Papy, his departure yesterday has started major separation anxiety for Froglet.
Froglet: I don't want to grow up.
Me: Why?
Froglet: Because then I'll have to live far away from you. I always want to stay with you. I don't want to leave you, ever. I've always dreamed I'd have a mom like you.
Me: Oh, my Froglet!
Isn't that sweet? My Froglet is so adorable! I'm just sorry I didn't have a tape-recorder with me, cos then I'd be able to replay the scene for her, when she's 16 and desperate to get out of the house.
On the bright side, now Papy's gone, I can write a little more. This is going to be one monster of an entry, but I can't resist.
When I was pregnant with Froglet and lots of time on my hands to take care of myself, I read lots of interesting books on Motherhood and the stages kids go through, just to be ready. And I am amused to see how my kids - and I - experienced these stages.
Whenever I see a mom who sterilizes her 8-month-old soothers before sticking them into his or her mouth, I know this is a first-time-mom. With time, you realize that babies that age are all about "ooooh, shiny/pretty/colorful/moving! Let's taste it!", and considering what they stick into in their mouths, there is no point whatsoever in sterilizing anything that goes in there and is thus bound to meet unspeakable gunk.
My girls have eaten at least one bucketful of sand each, and drunk at least half a bathtub of soapy water. I still see 18-month-old Froglet, sitting in the bathtub, annoyed because she already had one plastic toy in each hand and was so looking forward to grabbing the third one that was floating right in front of her. She then took us all by surprise when she tried to catch it with her mouth and took a spectacular nose-dive :D
Tadpole was the most inventive with stuff to put into her mouth. Worms. My computer's mouse. Cat poop. Dirt. Stones. A heart pill (while its rightful owner wasn't looking because he was too busy explaining to me that he knew all about kids' safety) - that one landed her in the hospital. The very next day, my mom was baby-sitting, Tadpole startled her into dropping a bottle and then panicked her outright by obviously chewing on glass fragments. Back they went to the hospital, where the Head Pediatrician welcomed then warmly ("Oh, it's you again, you're back!"), took one good look at healthy, cooing Tadpole and frantic, shaking grandma, gave grandma a sedative and sent them on their merry way.
Then comes the anal stage. Where according to The Book feces are used to interact with the mother.
Oh, alright. So Froglet did use to bring me her full potty like a peace offering. Now that it's Tadpole's turn, similar patterns are emerging.
Yesterday, she shrieked at Papy who wanted to make himself useful and empty her potty without calling me first. She was adamant that I had to see it first. I admired Tadpole's production, and she beamed, and in came Froglet, who wanted to see it too. And then we brought it to the bathroom, and we emptied the potty, and I flushed and we all waved good-bye to the turd. I kid you not.
I had a dream last night that they wanted to bury the turds decorously in the backyard, in little turd coffins. I shall draw a line at that, I promise.
Tadple isn't quite there yet. Froglet seems to have dealt with it easily. She did once come up with the expected "when I'm a grown-up, I'll marry daddy", but then we did as The Book says: the parent of the opposite sex has to deal with it and explain clearly and firmly that he/she is already spoken for, but that the child will find a suitable partner later on in life. So for once I left Husband Deal With It.
Froglet came back from the conversation slightly sad and a bit sulky. We waited to see what would happen next.
Three days later, I took her to the playground, and she found a nice little boy to play with. After half an hour, she came over to see me.
Me: are you having fun?
Froglet: Oh yes. He's very nice. He's OK to marry me when we're grown-ups.
Me: Oh. What's his name? (Yeah, I'm a parent, and parents always want to know the boyfriend's name.)
Froglet: Dunno.
Me: :D
Knowing that she would not grow up to be an old maid, a fully reassured Froglet decided that she could be her happy, bouncy self again. And that was that. I'm very interested to find out what Froglet does with the Oedipus complex now...
OK, off to pick more strawberries now :D
Am happy to be back, if a little, er, over-enthusiastic ;)
Froglet: MOM! There's a GIANT ANT in the house
Me: WHAT? WHERE?
Froglet (proudly): Don't worry. I squished it.
Me (inwardly): ew ew ew ew EW!
I found a happy Tadpole contemplating the corpse. "EW! Mommy", she predictably exclaimed in delight, "EW!" Yeah, right.
Froglet: MOM!
Me: WHAT?
Froglet: The cat barfed again!
Tadpole: Ew! Mommy, ew cat!
OK, let's get rid of the cat puke.
And then, the car got crapped on by a whole batallion of birds overnight. Aha, I thought, so this is why they call it an unkindness of ravens. *sulks*
We all miss Papy, his departure yesterday has started major separation anxiety for Froglet.
Froglet: I don't want to grow up.
Me: Why?
Froglet: Because then I'll have to live far away from you. I always want to stay with you. I don't want to leave you, ever. I've always dreamed I'd have a mom like you.
Me: Oh, my Froglet!
Isn't that sweet? My Froglet is so adorable! I'm just sorry I didn't have a tape-recorder with me, cos then I'd be able to replay the scene for her, when she's 16 and desperate to get out of the house.
On the bright side, now Papy's gone, I can write a little more. This is going to be one monster of an entry, but I can't resist.
When I was pregnant with Froglet and lots of time on my hands to take care of myself, I read lots of interesting books on Motherhood and the stages kids go through, just to be ready. And I am amused to see how my kids - and I - experienced these stages.
Whenever I see a mom who sterilizes her 8-month-old soothers before sticking them into his or her mouth, I know this is a first-time-mom. With time, you realize that babies that age are all about "ooooh, shiny/pretty/colorful/moving! Let's taste it!", and considering what they stick into in their mouths, there is no point whatsoever in sterilizing anything that goes in there and is thus bound to meet unspeakable gunk.
My girls have eaten at least one bucketful of sand each, and drunk at least half a bathtub of soapy water. I still see 18-month-old Froglet, sitting in the bathtub, annoyed because she already had one plastic toy in each hand and was so looking forward to grabbing the third one that was floating right in front of her. She then took us all by surprise when she tried to catch it with her mouth and took a spectacular nose-dive :D
Tadpole was the most inventive with stuff to put into her mouth. Worms. My computer's mouse. Cat poop. Dirt. Stones. A heart pill (while its rightful owner wasn't looking because he was too busy explaining to me that he knew all about kids' safety) - that one landed her in the hospital. The very next day, my mom was baby-sitting, Tadpole startled her into dropping a bottle and then panicked her outright by obviously chewing on glass fragments. Back they went to the hospital, where the Head Pediatrician welcomed then warmly ("Oh, it's you again, you're back!"), took one good look at healthy, cooing Tadpole and frantic, shaking grandma, gave grandma a sedative and sent them on their merry way.
Then comes the anal stage. Where according to The Book feces are used to interact with the mother.
Oh, alright. So Froglet did use to bring me her full potty like a peace offering. Now that it's Tadpole's turn, similar patterns are emerging.
Yesterday, she shrieked at Papy who wanted to make himself useful and empty her potty without calling me first. She was adamant that I had to see it first. I admired Tadpole's production, and she beamed, and in came Froglet, who wanted to see it too. And then we brought it to the bathroom, and we emptied the potty, and I flushed and we all waved good-bye to the turd. I kid you not.
I had a dream last night that they wanted to bury the turds decorously in the backyard, in little turd coffins. I shall draw a line at that, I promise.
Tadple isn't quite there yet. Froglet seems to have dealt with it easily. She did once come up with the expected "when I'm a grown-up, I'll marry daddy", but then we did as The Book says: the parent of the opposite sex has to deal with it and explain clearly and firmly that he/she is already spoken for, but that the child will find a suitable partner later on in life. So for once I left Husband Deal With It.
Froglet came back from the conversation slightly sad and a bit sulky. We waited to see what would happen next.
Three days later, I took her to the playground, and she found a nice little boy to play with. After half an hour, she came over to see me.
Me: are you having fun?
Froglet: Oh yes. He's very nice. He's OK to marry me when we're grown-ups.
Me: Oh. What's his name? (Yeah, I'm a parent, and parents always want to know the boyfriend's name.)
Froglet: Dunno.
Me: :D
Knowing that she would not grow up to be an old maid, a fully reassured Froglet decided that she could be her happy, bouncy self again. And that was that. I'm very interested to find out what Froglet does with the Oedipus complex now...
OK, off to pick more strawberries now :D
Am happy to be back, if a little, er, over-enthusiastic ;)
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no subject
Date: 2004-07-19 05:18 pm (UTC)I had a dream last night that they wanted to bury the turds decorously in the backard, in little turd coffins. I shall draw a line at that, I promise.
BWAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA!!!
Whew, oh my. Good times.
no subject
Date: 2004-07-19 07:20 pm (UTC)The burial in the backyard, though... Nope. Won't do, sorry.
no subject
Date: 2004-07-19 06:15 pm (UTC)I had a dream last night that they wanted to bury the turds decorously in the backard, in little turd coffins. I shall draw a line at that, I promise.
Sorry to be repetitive, but Wahahahahaha! This needs a "not work-safe" label.
You're right, too--for Danae we sterilized EVERYTHING. For Delenn, we sterilized bottles for a few months, but that was it. When her binky fell on the floor, I "cleaned" it by putting it in my mouth first. I know that the human mouth has horrible bacteria in it, but at least it got the dirt off. *shrug* Neither kid is so far dead of Dirt Poisoning yet. And Delenn is big about drinking the bath water too, which is very gross, since you never know exactly what they've done in it. Glad it's not just her. :)
no subject
Date: 2004-07-19 07:25 pm (UTC)But I was happy nothing worse had happened, I tell you!
And yeah, I know, it's not just the soap in the bath water, is it... They all do it, though. I actually remember going "EW!" as a kid when a friend's kid brother did it in front of us. But I don't like to go there, coz, you know. Maybe I used to do it too (EW!)
no subject
Date: 2004-07-19 08:10 pm (UTC)Froglet: Oh yes. He's very nice. He's OK to marry me when we're grown-ups.
Me: Oh. What's his name? (Yeah, I'm a parent, and parents always want to know the boyfriend's name.)
Froglet: Dunno.
My Mum whenever I mentioned a girlfriend or potential girlfriend would always ask "What's her name? What do her parents do?" Apparently this is a lesson taught to her by her mum -- one must always know what Potential Life Spouse's parents do.
Rarely was I able to answer this question to her satisfaction (because when you're fifteen who cares about parents?) until I turned to her one day and said "You know, Mum, I'm really not very sure what you do. Don't you...buy things? Or something?"
She stopped insisting on actually having an answer to that question, after that :D
no subject
Date: 2004-07-19 09:11 pm (UTC)Actually, my initial reaction at hearing those words tumble out of my mouth was incredulous amazement "WTF? WHEN did I become my own mother? How come nobody WARNED me?"
:D Don't you...buy things? Or something? BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Were you serious, or just delicately trying to get some kind of message across?
no subject
Date: 2004-07-19 11:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-19 11:20 pm (UTC)Glass eating
Date: 2004-07-19 10:42 pm (UTC)obviously chewing on glass fragments
That conjured a mental image of a bloody-mouthed child grinning at me, as they do when they know they've just done something very wrong and there's not a thing you can do about it. Eating shards of glass also made me think of that guy who eats anything, and who once ate an entire light aircraft... over the space of a year. He ate the windows by grinding the glass up into dust and sprinkling it on sandwiches, etc.
Re: Glass eating
Date: 2004-07-19 11:15 pm (UTC)Er, well, no. She did grab a piece of glass and put it into her mouth, but mom got it out of there in time, thank God. (I don't want to think about what would have happened if she'd actually SWALLOWED the thing). According to mom, she must have taken it for another piece of candy (like the candied heart pill she'd taken the day before), and was keeping it in her cheek in the off chance it might dissolve. She didn't even bleed.
Yeah, I remember that guy. He kind of comes across like one of those people who'd do anything, anything at all, to enter the Guiness book of records. Like hopping a certain number of times into their underwear within a minute (I'm not joking, although the underwear hopper wears a second pair when demonstrating, Just in case he might get it wrong and hurt himself, I presume. *pushes bad mental image away with gritted teeth* Quite, quite mad.)
no subject
Date: 2004-07-21 08:04 pm (UTC)If you think it's bad now, the phallic stage is worse... but latency is a relief. I suppose there is a bright side to everything, even Freudian psychology.
Your journal is awesome (found it through
no subject
Date: 2004-07-21 09:08 pm (UTC)Oh. And here I was, naively thinking that having two girls, that sort of thing would by-pass us altogether. Drat. You seem extremely well-informed, do you mind telling me why (because I am curious) and give me more details on what to expect next? (unless it's absolutely dreadful, in which case I'd rather not know in advance, thank you very much :D ).
And please, friend away. :D
no subject
Date: 2004-07-22 07:47 am (UTC)Freudian Developmental Psychology in brief:
1. Oral (Babies)- Explores world with mouth, puts everything into it.
2. Anal (Potty Training Age)- Focus is on bodily waste specifically and deferred gratification for the sake of society in general.
3. Phallic (Preschool Age, approx.)- Yes, this happens for both boys and girls. Focus is on difference between the sexes, both physically and socially. Oedipus complex is part of this stage (for boys, anyway).
4. Latency (Elementary School, approx.)- Most children repress all sexual feelings at this stage. Girls and boys at this stage mostly avoid those of the opposite sex and spend more time with others of the same sex.
5. Genital (Onset of Puberty)- Just as issues between the sexes are being resolved, adolescence hits and makes everything confusing again.
Eventually, most people resolve all of these issues and go on to have normal adult lives.
Note that Freudian psychology is oversimplified. Some of his theories, like the Oedipus complex, are considered by many psychologists to be totally wrong.
no subject
Date: 2004-07-22 03:54 pm (UTC)I'll concentrate on that bit - in which I've always believed anyway - and will do the best I can. *sighs* ;) I also believe it's their job to resolve these issues, all I can offer is guidance: however much I would like to teach them everything I have painfully learned over the years myself, it is my firm belief that the way to knowing is by making your own mistakes. We (the parents) are just here to help out a little and hand out the kleenexes. < / parental angst >
Thanks for the info :)