Mama has been sorely neglecting her duties as chronicler of my life's adventures, and despite several reminders that my 20 month update was due 2 whole weeks ago, she has neither lifted a finger to get it done, nor demonstrated any sort of remorse for letting things get to such a head.
Granted, she was rather sick for a few days, but since then all she's been doing is ganging up against me with her mom. It's most annoying. I can't do a thing without those two teasing and cackling and generally behaving like I was put on this earth to entertain them. Sometimes I'm amazed at how deluded adults can be. I mean, it's fairly obvious that every member of my family exists only for my own personal care and entertainment and it takes a special kind of brain wiring not to be able to see that, methinks.
But enough about Mama and her eccentricities; this post is about me. As with all important things in this household (such as emptying tissue boxes, pouring body lotion on the floor, and sticking pencils into every available slot in the furniture), I have realised that the only way to get things done is to do it myself. So here it is, my supposed to be 20 month but actually almost 21 month update:
Although I've tried very hard to teach my folks Babble - the simple but highly efficient baby language, they have been very dull students. I've given up and now speak to them in words they can understand. I speak slowly, each word articulated clearly and correctly so that I don't need to rely on Mama's rather free and overly interpretive translation to make myself understood among the big people. It works fairly well, and I have received several compliments on the clarity of my speech. There is still the minor issue of the 'r' sound, which is the only sound I haven't quite figured out yet, but I'm confident I'll get rrround it soon.
I've got the hang of counting and can identify most regular colours (just don't throw teal and mauve my way), although I can't for the life of me think why Mama thinks it's such a big deal. The first time I casually counted from one to ten, she screamed and clapped and made such an ass of herself that you'd think I'd just told her the value of pi to the 50th decimal.
You know, all this time I thought the reason I didn't always get my way was because Mama was too dumb to understand me. But in last few months I've come to see that the reason is a lot more sinister: she understands what I want but doesn't do it anyway! Preposterous!
But I'm nothing if not persistent and we have a major battle of wills every morning when I insist on wearing a particular outfit, and she insists on giving me something else. I ask you, how much clearer can one get than 'pink dess' or 'flower dess'? Why then does she insist on showing me silly white, orange, and blue dresses or shorts or pants and try to convince me to wear them? Why is it not ok to wear the same outfit every day and what does it matter if it's faded or short or torn? It's beyond me.
As long I was going to playschool I had an out. Mama's still bigger and stronger than me, so she can wrestle me into a dress I don't want to wear, but what she didn't know until recently was that as soon as I reached playschool, I'd make the teacher help me put on the pink ballerina costume they have there. So I'd have my pink dress every day. Ha! And Mama thought she'd won! She has so much to learn.
Take the matter of potty training for example. I realised recently that I could get Mama's attention just by saying the magic word - potty. She drops whatever she's doing and whisks me off to the bathroom where I sit on the pot and enjoy the show she puts on for me. She sings, juggles, blows bubbles, and does a little act with my bath toys as characters. It's great fun and it doesn't matter if I don't actually have any potty to do. It worked like a charm for about a week, and I used it to great effect especially at bedtime when I didn't want to go to sleep. But then she cottoned on and now if I say potty at bedtime she refuses to take me. She says that's ok, lie down now. That can't be particularly good for potty training can it?
And so it goes on - sometimes I win, sometimes Mama does, with the game getting more and more complicated as we begin to understand each other better. It's fun though. Oh and before I sign off, I have a message from Mama who says sorry she's way behind on reading everyone's blogs and she'll come round and figure out all the tags she's accumulated and do them real soon. I'd take that with a pinch of salt if I were you - I've known her all my life and I can say with some authority that she is a lazy bum. A nice, well-meaning bum, though (Hey, she still owes me a Christmas present, I don't want to risk not getting that!)
In case you don't hear from me again before the end of the year, let me wish you all a Merry Christmas and an exciting, adventure-filled New Year 2008.