Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Is there a full moon?

On a day like today, I always look outside to see whether there's a full moon. I truly believe that the moon makes people do strange things. My day with E was just plain weird!

For the past few months, she has been fascinated by my cesarean scar. I just tell her, "That's where Baby m came out," and that usually ends the questions. But today at playgroup, she not only peppered me with questions about my belly, but she moved on to other moms in the room...apparently my answers weren't good enough. When Sophia's mom introduced herself, E asked her, "Did Sophia come out of your belly? Did her big sister come out of your belly too?" The mom looked at me for guidance, and I just shrugged my shoulders like, I don't know! Later, E asked me, "Did Dr. Skyler (her name for my OBGYN) take Sophia and Sophia's sister out of her mommy's belly?" "Yes," I said. "He did." It's not long, I can feel it, before she asks me how Baby m and Sophia and Sophia's sister got in there to begin with. Um...at this rate we'll be discussing potty training and the facts of life all in the same weekend.

Then during naptime, E ripped the Diego pop-up book we just got from the library. More specifically, she ripped the HEAD off of Diego. This is the conversation we had in her room as she was waking up.

Me: What happened to this book?
E: Somebody make Diego all funny. On da boat.
Me: Who did that?
E: Daddy did it.
Me: Oh. Should we call and ask him why he did that?
E: I will ask him. Is he angry?
Me: He must be angry if he ripped Diego's head off.
E: No, he dinna mean it....but he did it. He make Diego all crazy.

The subsequent phone call to Daddy at work confirmed that it was indeed E, and not Daddy, who "make Diego all crazy." I thought she might apologize for ripping the book or for lying, but she was too obsessed with finding the tape to fix him up. Then she wanted band-aids for her phantom owies and already-healed "bosquito" bites. When I said no, she sneaked off to the closet to try and steal some. When I found her, she had dragged her step-stool from the bathroom into the hall and was reaching for the Hello Kitty band-aids that Daddy bought for her. She looked me in the eye and said, "I won't do it again, Mommy. Can I have some band-aids please?"

As I put her to bed tonight, she asked to sleep with a partially deflated balloon bumblebee. We settled for placing it on the headboard, where she could see it from the pillow. "Mommy, say, 'I love you, butterfly.'" And so I did. Honestly, it's easier to just go along with her than try to figure her out. She's complex, she's smart, she's a moon baby.

3 comments:

STRETCHING said...

Aaaahh the moon... What about the adoring and delighted eyes???

S said...

I believe she's just voyaging innocently into the obscure world that is the dancona/clark/elias women.

Michie said...

I just wanted to thank you for your nice comments on my blog today. They made me smile (and get a little teary too.)

 
Header Image from Bangbouh @ Flickr