Stories

Nora's latest obsession is stories. All day, she asks for stories from the adults around her. She'll ask for the story of one of the Disney princesses, or the 3 little pigs, or Goldilocks, or other such things. If it's my dad, she'll ask to hear about the She-Bear, or the nice wolf, or the magic bed (he makes up stories for her). But during our last beach trip, she made up her own story. It went something like this:

Cecilia threw a chicken in the river. Then the flies came and got all over Nora's shirt. Then it started to rain.

Amanda and I had the same question when first hearing the story from Nora (we didn't hear it together). Was it a live chicken or the kind you eat? Nora told Amanda it was the kind you eat. Amanda replied that in that case, throwing it in the river seemed wasteful. Later when I asked, it was a live chicken (a case of Nora avoiding censure? Perhaps).

Imaginary friends

I had secretly hoped that Nora would have imaginary friends. And just this week, two of them joined our family. They're actually imaginary pets. Last weekend, I took a walk with Nora in the stroller and heard her say "I have a doggy and I have a kitty cat and they are...somewhere." Excited, I asked their names. "The kitty cat is Little Golden Flower." I ask about the doggy. "His name is Little Golden Flower too." When you've got a name that awesome, why not duplicate it? She's into descriptive names lately. My favorite is a toy pony named Little Ice Cream Night.

Back to the walk though. Lo and behold, Little Golden Flower (the cat) came to join our walk. As we came to the top of a hill, I said "Nora, I'm gonna run down the hill, so you'd better pick up Little Golden Flower and hold on to her so she doesn't get hurt going downhill." "Oh," she said, "I'm sitting on her." That's one way to secure her.

We went on another walk yesterday, and Little Golden Flower the cat joined us again. As we got closer to home, we saw an elderly man out in his front yard. He greeted Nora and Lyda. Nora held up her hand, palm upright (apparently her hand became the cat for a moment). She bent her fingers forward and back a little as though her her hand was a puppet and said in a high-pitched voice, "I'm Little Golden Flower." The man just thought he was being waved to and happily waved back.

Southern accent

I don't have a very strong southern accent.  When I was young, I thought I had no recognizable accent.  But our family went to a conference when I was in upper elementary school, and I learned otherwise.  People came from a number of different states.  A couple of girls from Maryland told me they liked my southern accent.  Josh's accent is pretty mild as well.  But somehow Nora, just in the last week or so started saying some words with extreme southern flair.  

-Nora, where is Wally?

-He's upstay-ers.

-Nora, did you pee on the floor?

-Yay-uhs.

It makes me giggle.

Talking to herself in bed

Nora is two-and-a-half now, and she talks a lot.  I've been reading East of Eden, and in it, a character named Sam says something like "My son, Will says that I'll talk to the trees if I can't find a human vegetable."  Well, that's Nora.  She talks to the trees, the flowers, and her toys. She talks to animals and babies as if they understand her.  I'd like to think that in a way they do.  Sometimes she talks to herself for a good hour or more before she'll go to sleep for the night, or for her nap.  Last fall, I heard her talking to her baby doll when she was in bed and then answer for the baby doll in a very high-pitched voice.

A couple nights ago, I was half-listening to her chatter when suddenly she said very dramatically, "I love you, Mommy!  I always have!"  30 seconds later she said, "I love you Daddy, I always have!"  I laughed and was then a little sad to recognize it as a half-quote from one of her favorite movies, Madagascar 2, in which she substituted the word mommy/daddy for the word Gloria.  I was a little sad because I tend to think things are funnier if they're a little wacky and you have no idea where they're coming from.  I guess that's why I laugh so hard at Tracy Morgan's character on 30 Rock.  His humor is so often coming from who-knows-where.  

Tonight, she's up there re-writing one of her preschool prayer songs.  It's to the tune of Frere Jacques, and the one she sings at school goes "God our Father, God our Father, we thank You, we thank You, for our many blessings, for our many blessings, Amen, Amen."  Instead, I just heard her singing, "God we thank you, God we thank you, for our Mommy, for our Mommy, and we're very grateful, and we're very grateful, Amen, Amen."  Then she sang it with the word daddy substituted for mommy.  She sang some version also about her sister Lyda being very beautiful, but sadly, she sang it only once and I've already forgotten the words.  Or as Nora says "I can't know the words!"

Why have a blog?

Last year, my friends Lee and Amanda were talking to me about blogs they read and encouraging me to start a blog.  I said something to the effect of no way, it'd just be something else I'd start and then not do well.  Soon thereafter, they started blogs and I really enjoy reading them when I remember to do so.

I changed my mind about writing on my own blog, and for two reasons.  One is that I can't keep up with all the funny things Nora says and Lyda does, and I want to record some of them.  Video camera never does it justice, and if I wrote it in a journal (like my Mom keeps asking me to do) I'd probably never be able to find it when I wanted to write in it.  

The other reason is that I've enjoyed writing since childhood, and lately I haven't been writing in any capacity.  I miss it.  

So here are my disclaimers.  I may be very sporadic about updating my blog.  I may not have a lot of interesting things to say (unless you find my children interesting).  But I'm doing this now, for better or worse.

How to be a princess

A couple weeks ago, Nora asked for my help in putting on her tutu.  I picked it up, and she said, "I am going to be beautiful!"  Excited to pass along some "wisdom," I set the tutu in my lap, looked in her eyes and said, "Nora, you are beautiful inside and out, and not because of anything you wear."  I could see her eyes glazing over with disinterest and then she said to herself in her try-to-be-patient voice, "In a few more minutes I will be a princess."  I'm gonna miss it when she talks only to other people and not to herself.