Don't Listen to Me

Don't Listen to Me

Seymour told me that he thought my recent entry on Mali was weird. And he's right, I don't know what I was thinking. I guess I'm just weirded out by her not drawing at all and refusing to potty train with big screaming histrionics even though she wakes up dry every damn morning and holds her bladder all the way through breakfast, too.

However, this is a child who can mimic or groove on almost anything physical, instantly. Last week Seymour was showing Leelo the WordWorld website, and after a while Mali pushed him out of the way and started using the website herself, fluidly. Her preschool doesn't use computers and no one else in the house has ever shown her how to use a mouse. Last night she acted out the entire song "Tingolayo" (not the easiest motions, either: "my donkey drink, my donkey think...") in an inspired burst of improv, since no one in this house has ever shown her those movements, and at her school they only learn Ukrainian folk dances. Also she has incredible empathetic and social skills. And she is much more charming than everyone else in the house, except possibly her father. She is just not her sister.

Said sister is currently reading at a college level. She and I went to her parent/teacher conference yesterday and my, was was our girl pissed that her teacher wasn't giving her the highest possible grades. However her teacher told her that while she is easily passing everything and meeting the standards by sheer virtue of her impressive intelligence, she also refuses to put in effort beyond that which is absolutely necessary, and so she hasn't earned outstanding grades. This is totally true; Iz is a bare-minimum girl when faced with that which is less-than-irresistably engaging. And since I am a crammer/last minute deadline lover/procrastinator and refuse to revise or put real effort into anything, I'm not really sure how to teach her the value of effort, preparation, and thoroughness.

Favorite Iz line-of-thought: a few days ago she was reading The Big Book of WWII, pausing every few minutes to pepper me with questions: Why isn't WWI as famous as WWII? When did it actually become WWII? Why didn't the U.S. join the fray before we were attacked at Pearl Harbor? We were obviously ready! Why did the Germans use motorcycles and sidecars in their Blitzkreig attacks? Etc. etc. etc. I thought she'd give up, but after a couple of days I told her to call her Uncle Chet. Her first question to him: "Why did the Ramones name a song after a German military maneuver?"

Also, she discovered some boxes from toys that came from "Santa" up in our closet last week. She confronted Seymour, and he said, "What do you want me to say?" She said, "How about saying that you're a liar, and that you've been lying to me for years?" Busted!

Leelo is about to lose his first tooth. It comes all the way down in front like a drawbridge. He refuses to touch it himself or let anyone else touch it, unless we are "flossing" his teeth -- then we can give it a good yank. I do hope he doesn't swallow it when it finally comes out. The new teeth are coming in shark style, behind the old ones.

He has had two poop accidents in the last three days, after weeks and weeks with no accidents at all. Both happened when we had kids over and I was the only adult present, which is happening a lot right now as Leelo has several afternoons per week off due to Therapist L's leaving, and his gradually transitioning to longer days. Iz is off most afternoons, too, due to parent/teacher conferences. Chaos makes for loose bowels, I guess.

Also interesting: my son has taken to stripping off all his clothes and hauling ass down the ravine behind our house the moment my back is turned. GAAAAAAH!

So, hey, it's time for another video! The first person to correctly identify the book Iz is holding* will win my original concert book from Prince's Lovesexy Tour.

*She recently chewed out a friend who referred to Polly and the Pirates as a comic book. "It's a graphic novel," growled my daughter.

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