Streaming From the Ears

Forgot other stuff, about kids mostly:

Iz realized today after diving back into It's So Amazing (called "That BOOK" by Anarchy her preschool teacher) that Seymour and I must have conceived her via "sexual intercourse."

Iz: "But what are the other natural ways to conceive a child?"
Me: "Natural? What do you mean?"
Iz: "I mean besides sexual intercourse!"
Me: "None that I can think of. None that we've used."
Iz: "You mean you did that for Leelo? And Mali too?"
Me: "Yup. What did you think we did?"
Iz: "I don't know, I thought maybe it happened up in the air..." (wanders off, looking pensive.)

Later on we had a nice conversation about whacking off (she used the term "masturbation," love that book) and how of course it feels good, that's how our bodies are designed, with clitorises that have a bajillion nerve endings, many more so than other places on the body. How despite this logic both her grandmothers would fall over in dead faints were she to use the word "masturbation" in front of them. She thought it was silly that the urethra connects to the bladder rather than the uterus, based on the way they're all pronounced.

Leelo has been off his rocker since we got back from Phx, mostly due to sugar and artifical colorings/flavorings, methinks. He's been ravenous, too. Hasn't been like this in months. His stomach got all distended and his output has been prolific. Might need to ask the biomed list about this reaction. He is hyper and hard to put down at night as well. He is also humping stuff a lot, still. Gaaah. Saying "no penis, no thank you" doesn't seem to register.

Mali is the cutest fucking baby in the world, as always. See?

She is really talking. Saying Hi There and waving, asking What's That, I swear saying "yes" in answer to questions, talking to the cats in their own language. etc. Plus she is absolutely cheerful, hilarious, hyper-social. Wonder what the MYND Inst. folks will make of her next week.

A friend's 23 month son is not really talking and listening much at all. After hemming for months as I don't want to be the messenger who gets killed, I wrote her a brief email listing my concerns, assuring her that my worries were purely language-related, and listing two community sources for evaluations and therapy. As Sage says, there is no harm in speech therapy, and, as Seymour pointed out, I'd love to be proven wrong.

After Ep and Clyde were brave enough to attempt taking our holiday family portrait (in which Iz wore her pirate hair and kerchief from yesterday's pirate party), we made our way over to Sage's son's party, which was a huge Leelo comfort zone as all the other families shared his space in some way. How totally relaxing not to have to explain or worry about any Leelo thing.

Can you tell how spaced I am? Spaaaaaace. I have had no interstitial space in which to tacke the small tasks that have piled up into monstrous towers of crap, in five weeks. All of which prevents me from living the real life, thinking the real thoughts. Coherently, at least.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Respectful disagreement encouraged.