success; and other tidbits from toddlerland

Point the first //
Miss Bea is now proudly wearing her Crocs after a huge wailing incident and much “no no no!’ protesting. I put them on right before we were leaving for a party, and she would not walk or even stand in them. She cried the entire trip in the car trying to pull them off, and would hit me angrily and scowl when I tried to offer any comfort to her. By the time we reached the party and she saw all the bikes, trikes and pedal car fun to be had, she completely forgot about her shoe problem and has been running in them ever since.

Point the second //
In other babytastic news, Bea has become an obsessive-compulsive old man with very painful rituals that she must carry out throughout the day. She carries at least 3 puzzle pieces everywhere in a bundle –as you can see below — one of which we call ‘Cecil’ (which I believe is Beatrixian for ‘circle’) and sits down periodically to line them up in a row. The sequence in which the oval, triangle, circle and heart are organised changes everytime, yet if you try to move one of them to a different spot, Bea will shake her head, whinge a little and put it back in the exact spot she placed it originally. She’s even so anal retentive about it that if someone accidentally nudges a piece or even if she bumps it herself, she flips out and has to readjust the entire line of shapes.

modelling her new crocs and the puzzle piece hoard.

Point the third //
I, like most mothers, used to be a terrific translator. Regardless of how nonsensical the jibberish was that Bea came up with, I usually knew or had at least a vague idea of what she was trying to say, to the point where other people would ask me “What’s that mean?” “What does she want?” “What is she saying?”
This talent has left the building. I know all her early words, the old faithfuls, but she’s coming up with a few lately that I just have no idea about, and darling Bebop is getting very frustrated that I can’t understand her. She stood in the kitchen today calming asking “Ball, ball.. please, ball..” and walking back and forth to the pantry and pointing. After about 10 minutes of screaming, I realised that somehow “ball” is code for “sultanas” and I was meant to know this immediately, according to Miss Bea. She then carted the bowl away, very proudly, mumbling “Marby, marby…” which, after some thought, I realised must mean “yummy”. It’s like trying to communicate with E.T sometimes.

Point the fourth //
The Wiggles craze is nowhere near ending. Bea now has two videotapes, one she got for her first birthday (to my horror) and another which I’m loathed to say I bought last week while getting some groceries. The pain of horrible songs like “Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes — repeated 40 times — is lessened, however, by the fact that halfway through the video, a long winded dance sequence comes on with some toddlers dressed as ducks, and this sends Bea into a frenzy of screaming and tears as if she’s horrified by it all. It bothers her to the extreme that two songs prior to the dance, she says “Bye Wiggles” and waves to the TV.

I think someone senses some ducks.