6/11/2008

Pliciousness

I sometimes feel like this blog is one of those Seinfeldian blogs about nothing. When I was going through IF treatment there was an obvious theme to be had. Logic would dictate that once I spawned successfully, this blog would be about my daughter. Oddly enough, I don't blog of her often, but I don't avoid her purposefully. Instead, I seem to ramble about random stuff largely unrelated to IF, pregnancy, and motherhood. I think I've trained myself to not be one of those women by talking of P constantly, a mindset which has carried over to my blogging life. Much to the chagrin of the NCLM populace I imagine, I have made it my vow to talk about P more.

So here we are. P is staring down the barrel of two, as she'll hit that landmark on the 19th of July. I don't know where those two years have disappeared to, but suddenly a little girl has taken my baby away. My blog, at least in my own deluded world, is a more avant garde approach to...nothing and everything. As such, I thought I'd tell you about some of P's idiocyncracies and odder moments.

She loves to be commanding and dictatorial. Some of her favourite phrases are, "Eat it!", "Get up!", "More! More!" (occasionally followed by "pwees"), "Out!" and "Read it!" Often P brings me a sticky nasal surprise on the tip of her pointer finger, waves it in my face, shouting "Eat it! Eat it!" When actual food is involved I say "You eat it!" in response to her demands, but I don't need to provoke her when it comes to her own snot. She's more than happy to snack on it without my invitation.

I have dreams that P will take after me in her interests - books, music, and the arts. It's possible this may still happen; P does love a good book on farm animals, though her favourite music (nursery rhymes and "Umbrella" by Rihanna) leave much to be desired. If you say, "You can stand under my umbrella" to her, she will run around for the next five minutes saying, "Ella ella". Her father is a lover of numbers, finance, and business concepts. My child counts like a motherfucker, and every object in life is meant to be turned into a series of numbers. No book can be read, no television show watched without an obsessive concern with quantity. Eight cars! Two dogs! Three moons! Always! said! with! such! enthusiasm!

P is so English, it kills me - in a good way of course. She doesn't say a hard "r", which I know is also down to her age and immature speech patterns, but to hear her say "beah" for "bear", "cah" for "car", amongst others. Her terminology is endearingly polite in its Britishness. She says "pardon" when she farts ("I fot") or burps, "pwees" when she wants something, "ta" when she gets it, and uses the word "trousers" instead of "pants".

P had a teacher at daycare whom she loved, Jemma. Jemma is tall, blond, and some would consider her attractive. I used to joke with The Dude that he was totally warm for her form, much denial ensued, blah blah blah. Jemma left recently for a new job, and P has struggled to cope with this loss. When I ask her who she has seen at school that day, she always starts with Jemma. She has just started saying, "Jemma. Bye-bye. In cah, wid daddy" Not surprisingly, Daddy has absolutely no memory of driving into the sunset with the nubile nursery teacher. Oh, the mileage I have gotten out of this phrase, a phrase which P repeats at least five or six times every day.

Ever since P was old enough to start to develop a discernable personality, I've had an idea that she is going to be quite a handful. She is mischevious, rambunctious, and has a definite predisposition to cheeky naughtiness. Last week I was holding her and she slapped me three times on the boob. I asked her to stop, and she looked at me quizically, paused, and said, "Five!", alluding to high five. She actually tried to evade getting into trouble by pretending she was trying to give me a high five and I was the one not cooperating. Now I'm nervous that she's going to be a brilliant criminal mastermind, or a devious seductress serial killer.

I should also take this time to mention that not once have I sworn in front of P, er, at least not since she could pick up language anyway. Oh,and that time two weeks ago when The Dude was totally kicking me whilst I was down (emotionally) and I shouted, "Fuck off already you fucking asshole!", to which P shouted gleefully, "FUN!" It appears as if my foul language did not clearly fall on her innocent ears. When I was pregnant, someone commented on here that my child would surely be dropping f and c bombs with the frequency that other children talk about Dora. I'm pleased to announce that ha! - of this moment this is not so. Ok, so she does say "fuck" instead of "fork", and "fuck" also manages to be "soap" (??), but that is obviously just a linguistic toddlerian flaw, not a repeat of my vulgarities. I am but a lady, after all.

Since I'm pushing the boat out here and not shutting the fuck up about my kid, I'll make you view some pictures as well because I am just that cruel. These are from our little trip to the beach the other day. Her toes touched the water briefly about 546 times, she saw a large older woman sunbathing topless, played with two dead crabs, and took a gulp of saltwater mixed with sand from her bucket. It was a good day.





20 comments:

Aunt Becky said...

Shit yeah, talk about her more. She's bloody cute.

And 2 is a great age. 3 sucks, but 2 is awesome.

Anonymous said...

Oh, I die of cute!

'Sticky nasal surprise' & 'I fot' are thoroughly enjoyable phrases for a virtual bystander, too! Can imagine that it's a little more disconcerting in the flesh. I may actually adopt 'I fot' myself, you know. I really rather like that. And there's no pleasure quite like excavating an interesting nostril...

DD said...

"brilliant criminal mastermind, or a devious seductress serial killer"

Yeah...I'm pretty sure neither of those lifestyles include patting one on the boob to complete whatever assignment they were paid to do.

I will have to admit I'm surprised that she doesn't shout MOTHAFUCKA on those occassions she does bop into something and get a boo-boo.

JuliaS said...

She's adorable and seems to be thoroughly enjoying herself at the beach.

Good Wishes!

NCLM

Anonymous said...

What a pretty little girl! I bet she and A. would have a blast together.

Anonymous said...

So I see you don't quite have that mullet problem licked yet...

Tash said...

""Fuck off already you fucking asshole!", to which P shouted gleefully, "FUN!" "

BWAH! I'm off to teach Bella about "Fots" now. Hee. What a cutie.

Kristi said...

I think P and Isabella are plotting world domination together. They sound a lot alike. Love the photos too. She's a keeper.

Anonymous said...

Ok, so is there an "All About Ms Prufrock" post out there somewhere? I gather from reading along that you are American and living in Britain. Is that right? And your daughter was born there? Is your husband British? I NEED DETAILS, LADY!

Anonymous said...

So cute. And I like hearing about her :)

Brigindo said...

I love a child who is more than a handful. My own is all growed up but still and handful and then some.

Enjoy.

Anonymous said...

Wow, two already?! That was fast. She's such a cutie. Picturing her saying "pardon" slays me...I wish I could hear that in person.

kate said...

Oh, dear. Pardon, I just foted. Ah, is there anything more precious than toddler-speak tinged with an adorable British accent? Probably not much.

And I've been known to respond with "FUN!" to my husband's pouting accusations. Smart one, your daughter. 'Cos a big cussing fight is kind of fun, sometimes.

I'm afraid that as of late my blog has slipped into Seinfeldian land, too, only with a decidedly more "things suck ass" slant than yours. I'm trying to remedy the "everything sucks" part, but I embrace my random nothingness. If it confuses NaCommBlahBlah people, then let them revel in the lovely confusion.

electriclady said...

Big girl! So cute! When did she become a person who walks around and picks her nose? Seem like just yesterday she was screaming seven hours a day.

Have I mentioned that every time BG drops something (frequently, as you might imagine) she says "shit"? Where could she have gotten that from, I wonder?

May said...

Cheeky naughtiness, huh? And where, might I ask, do you think she got that??

Dee will be three in September. I can't believe it. She sleeps in a big bed, talks understandably, and no longer has that poofy diaper butt. Someone stole my baby girl and left me a small person.

Anonymous said...

Does "fuck" cover trucks, too? Or are those lorries?

Benjamin is two days younger than she is, it would appear.

PiquantMolly said...

Yay yay yay! Little babies with accents are the BEST.

I miss her.

Defiantmuse said...

I drop the f bomb so much I'll be very surprised if Monkey doesn't start saying it very soon. I haven't even attempted to curb my language, even though she's begun picking up words here and there. I cannot clean up my mouth. It's just not going to fucking happen so why try?

P is ridiculously cute and we should totally get together with the kiddos when I'm over there in January.

Major Bedhead said...

The Bug is only a couple of weeks younger than P, so yeah. Except ovah heyah, it's a New England accent. Which is, I suppose, extrapolated from an English accent. And then bastardized beyond recognition. But still, it makes my Anglophilic (is there one L or two in that word that I seem to have just made up?) little heart got pitter-pat.

SAHW said...

via NCLM

congrats on your beautiful daughter...glad her mouth is still clean ;)