This morning, in the tub, Lucy plopped a squirting rubber frog on Gabe's tummy and very sweetly declared it to be his. "It's okay if he spits up on it," she said. "It's okay if he bites it, I don't need it any more."
Then Gabe noticeably added a little of his own liquid to the tub.
"It's okay if he pees on it," Lucy said, and gave me her biggest grin.
This is good... I am always happy to hear Lucy launch into her "it's okay" proclamations. I'm no doctor, but I have noticed enough concern with cleanliness on her part to make ME a little concerned at times.
Lucy, once in a while, will initiate her own little tidy-up session. This does not worry me in the least. I talk these episodes up for days. These make me happy.
What has me a little worried are the not-infrequent times when she is deeply, unwaveringly interested in getting her hands clean immediately (with a wet napkin, if a sink is unavailable).
It could be nothing, but just to be careful, I've been working on making her bear having dirty or sticky hands for a while. For example, if we're in the car and she's got hands which she wants to clean, sometimes I make her wait five minutes until we get home. I know. I'm harsh--a "Mean Mommy," as Lucy would say.
Here's a "Mean Mommy" story: Today on our first hike of the season, Zoe found a "stick." This stick was a branch that measured about eight feet long. This was a problem, as the trail was only about four feet wide.
When Zoe has a stick, she becomes a bit of a menace. Her cute and usually welcome attentiveness on the trail is threatening when she comes back every few seconds or minutes (depending upon the speed of the hikers) wielding a weapon with substantial mass and more than enough pointy parts to inflict pain.
Today, Lucy told me I was a "Mean Mommy to Zoe" when Zoe wouldn't leave the stick: I chucked it into some brush making it irretrievable. Lucy said this with a little pride in her voice. It makes me wonder about her point of reference.
Sometimes I can figure out where her ideas come from, sometimes I can't. Usually, if I can figure it out, it's a relief.
At a friend's birthday party on Saturday, Lucy was with a group of kids and one of the moms stuck around long enough to receive a play assignment from Lucy. I wasn't there, I just got a little heads-up from the mom (Polly) after it went down.
"Lucy's so cute," said Polly. Polly then waited politely for me to respond.
"I was downstairs with the girls and she asked me if I wanted to be the maid." Polly looked at me with a fantastic smile as she watched for my reaction.
Whaaa? I was a little shocked.
I ran through possibilities in my mind until I found the answer that saved me: "My Fair Lady." I said, relieved. "Have you ever seen that show?" Elitism averted.
This morning in the tub, Lucy was interested in lathering me up. She had scrubbed my knees and shins and was working on my feet when I suggested she wash in-between my toes (why not?). She pushed one finger between two of my toes then made a little face and told me that "the other maids will do that," and that she only does one. Then she informed me that "sometimes we wash people when they're stinky." If you don't know what Lucy's point of reference might be, you haven't watched "My Fair Lady" lately.
Gabe Update:
Gabe's latest projects are sitting unassisted and crawling. He's making good progress on both. Sitting is something he can do for anywhere from a few seconds to lots (of seconds), but he tips over too easily to say he's got it just yet. Crawling: he's up on his knees often enough these past days, and rocks a little before he dives forward. He's persistent! It's hard to say which he'll be able to do consistently first.
Gabe still likes to practice standing and is a bit of a chatterbox at times. I've noticed him say, "Maamaa" a couple of times when he's frustrated and Brian's holding him. He's handed directly to me and gets to nurse promptly. The kid's a geeeenious! ;)
Also of note: he is so happy! He's got a little cough and runny nose right now. I also think his teeth might be bugging him--notwithstanding, he is still a happy, happy boy. We love him.
