The Prayer to Word Exchange Rate
|Twelve thoughts right there.|
I understood this and thousands other big and small things and that was ok, but it was exhausting. Having to explain these things to other people; having to deal with only being 90% sure that I was interpreting this correctly; not knowing for absolute certain what it was that was bothering Sweet Girl; and never knowing exactly what hurt when she was in pain: all that takes a toll on a person. I remember the day she was playing in the backyard while I talked to a neighbor in the side yard. Sweet Girl came running up to me crying and screaming. From a distance I thought she'd found her way into shin-deep mud and was upset she was dirty, but as she got closer my neighbor realized she had stepped in an ant hill. It wasn't mud on her shoes, socks, and legs but hundreds of black ants. Thankfully my neighbor moved with enough speed to actually be useful (unlike myself who was still shocked and not just a little disgusted at the number of ants there) and stripped Sweet Girl of her socks and shoes while simultaneously wiping down her legs in a huge sweep. I ran her inside and sat her in the sink with the cold water on her red welty legs, called the advice nurse, and gave Sweet Girl a dose of Motrin for good measure. The good news is that it was black ants and not fire ants. The bad news is the situation could have been a lot better if Sweet Girl could have told me (even while screaming which I would have been doing in her place) there were ants trying to eat her alive.
|This little piggy did not go to market.|
Obviously I'm thrilled that Sweet Girl is a better communicator now and pretty much over the moon
to see the progress Little Man is making in his quest to become the boss of the English language. But gone are the days when there was any kind of silence to be had. We still have some things to work out; Sweet Girl struggles with syntax and sentence structure in general and her speech patterns are still a bit stunted. I often think she's learning English as a second language - whole body movement and song being her native tongue. Little Man has pretty much been Repeat to Sweet Girl's Pete from the get-go, so it's not surprising to hear his need to narrate the obvious. It's just so loud all.the.time. I suppose, though, that gives me a better opportunity to revel in Sweet Girl's latest developments. Like when she practically shouted "I'm scared!"at me as I was performing a splinterectomy on her pinky. I was scared too. Or how she's starting to show possession not just of things, but of people as well. She yelled at her thief of a brother when he stole her Fisher Price barnyard animals: "Hey! That's mine!" I let those two figure that one out on their own. I am happy to report there were no injuries or fatalities to the barnyard animals or the siblings. And when she walked into the living room wearing Sean's shoes she told me she was wearing "my daddy's shoes." Wear them indeed. And I suppose if my prayers were pennies then I've already prepaid for a million of her thoughts. I just wish she wouldn't try to cash it in all at once.