The “where the hell are y’all at, I’m up” whimper–
Gia is sleeping in her own bed… in her own room. Gia 0, Adults 1. She begins to stir around 6:30am but it isn’t until 6:45ish that her soft babbling becomes that ‘alright, quit playing, come get me’ cry. It’s at this time that hubby and I play our daily game of chicken… looking at each other like whose turn is it. After some stalling and a little back and forth, one of us gets her changed and dressed by 7am. I make her breakfast, sit her in her high chair, and then… IT begins.
The “that looks interesting, I wanna touch it, drool on it, throw it and things of that nature” grunt—
My days are filled with unfathomably persistent grunts, squeals, and moans. Boogs can’t ‘use her words’ just yet, and these noises and the accompanying pointing and demanding gesturing, are her only means of communication… besides the 2 signs she knows. And if I pretend not to hear her, she cranks up the volume, waves her hand in my face to get my attention and then proceeds. Very smart, that one.
Her demanding grunts and pointing, while irritating, are far worse when we’re in public. I’m admittedly easily embarrassed and I think she’s clever enough to know this… already. It never fails. Here’s how things usually play out–
-We enter a quiet environment, that’s usually filled with well behaved children and their proud parents.
-Gia proceeds to fuss, buck and fall out in an attempt to escape my grasp and walk around.
-To keep her quiet, I put her down. Gia 1, Adults 1
-She walks around like Fred Sanford, waving, and saying ‘bye bye’ to complete strangers. Loving their attention.
-I pick her up. She falls out.
-I distract her with whatever I have on hand to buy myself 5 minutes of peace. Actual real life examples include keys, straws, envelopes, my debit card, an empty plastic bottle, a lip gloss tube, and a wrapped, unused tampon. Why not give her a toy you ask? Because she doesn’t want them. She wants MY ish. And once she has it, she throws it, or drops it on the floor. Every time. Then looks at me, looks down at it, points at it, and starts with the grunting and squealing.
SOS! What am I supposed to do? If I take the stuff away she wails… if I give it to her, she throws it then wails… giving in is a short term fix, but I have a feeling that I’m in trouble if we don’t start correcting this ASAP! She is now more than aware that if I throw a tantrum I get what I want.
While standing, she’ll bear down, arch her back (hilarious) and commence a loud series of grunts and moans. We know she’s achieved success when she offends and resumes normal play. Occasionally, she’ll make the stinky face to let us know that our butt wiping services are needed.
So there you have it. The soundtrack of my life… it’s remixed, looped and shuffled. And now you know why that glass of Shiraz tastes so damn good at the end of the day.