----------------------My daughter, Lily, isn't consistently verbal. Mostly she scripts. MOSTLY she does not answer direct questions. She makes her needs known by communicating them. . . but you can't ASK her what she needs. . . she won't tell you. You can't really ask her yes/no questions and have yes mean the yes you think it is or no mean the no. It's complicated and confusing.
Anyway, Grammy and Pappy (Leslie's parents) were watching her yesterday so Leslie could start her first week back at work since surgery, and Pappy was trying to get her to sit on the potty.
Pappy: Okay, Lily, it's time for you to sit on the potty
Lily: I have one thing to say about that.
Pappy: Oh? What's that?
Lily: It's never going to happen.
Really? "It's never going to happen." I love it. I GUESS she's scripting it. . . I don't know where she heard it. But it doesn't really matter. She declared she had something to say, and when questioned about the content of that statement, she provided detail.
It's nice when communication is clear to everyone.
Yesterday, Emma, my oldest was eating Leslie's spaghetti. I can't remember where Leslie was. She might actually have been at the table, or up giving Lily a bath.
Sidebar: It's important to know that there is a daily ailment troubling Emma. That daily ailment is never the same, and almost always occurs to her to relate to us when she is expected to be "doing something." Yesterday, for example, she told me the following over the course of the day: "My head hurts." "My finger hurts." "My thumb hurts." "My knee hurts." These were all throughout the course of the day. All presaged by some moan of pain or other. All just after being told to either: 1) eat, 2) brush teeth, 3) put something away, 4) go to bed. . . not necessarily respectively. This is EVERY DAY. Once, long ago, I used to respect each of these individual ailments, now I just tell her she's growing, and if she continues to complain, offer her tylenol (she HATES taking tylenol).
Yesterday, as I indicated, Emma was eating spaghetti.
"What's wrong, baby?"
"A spice got on my tongue!"
"Yeah. . . it burns!"
This I likened to a vampire and holy water (to the good people of Facebook). What I didn't mention was her follow-up to my eye roll at her dramatics.
"Well. . . have YOU ever had a spice on your tongue??" She asked this indignantly, a foreshadowing perhaps of the teenager she'll become, posturing petulantly and declaring that "you've never been in love before!" or some equally ridiculous notion that every kid goes through when he/she cannot imagine that anyone has ever felt anything like the pain he/she is going through ever before or will ever again. It made me laugh thinking of some of the stupid "1st World Problems" status posts I've done on Facebook poking fun at the drama generation. . . like telling my wife as she comes out of surgery that I have a hangnail and that "you can't know what this pain is like!"
Anyway. . . "Have YOU ever had a spice on your tongue?" she demanded.
"Yes, Emma. ALL. THE. TIME. There are spices in just about everything we eat."
"Even pizza?" she asked.
I looked at her evenly. "The same exact spices that are in this spaghetti sauce are in pizza sauce."
"I don't like spices."
"I know, Emma. Or anything made out of food."
Even Oreos. . . tonight after dinner I offered Oreos to Lily, cause Emma has no interest. Actually, I brought out Oreos and wafer cookies, you know the kind with the yellow, pink and brown ones all in one big box? They're shaped like rectangle sandwich thingies? Anyway, pure sugar.
I broke an Oreo in half and put it on the table. I broke a wafer cookie in half and put it on the table. From her vantage, Leslie offered the following, "I think your father secretly hopes you don't want those cookies, Lily."
Lily didn't want the cookies. I ate them. The bag of Oreos were still sitting at the table and I offered them to Emma.
"You want one of these Oreos?"
"I don't think you should eat those Oreos," she answered.
"Because they're a hundred years old!"
Meanwhile, Lily hasn't been eating anything. . . spices or no spices. Except bacon. But who can blame her.
|Lily, eating bacon. See???|