Attending, Itchy Frog in a block, and mashed ants (or, random Beatrix stuff)

On any given school day, this conversation happens:

Me: "Bea, how was school today?"

Bea: "Good. I play friends. I gellah [get a] time out. No listen."

I know she's contrary at home, but now the teachers are asking if we have any suggestions for making her listen and behave. Oy.

I have finally thrown in the towel and picked up a copy of Parenting the Strong-Willed Child. Please, please, please let it help. You all, she out-stubborns ME. (Dear parents of mine, stop laughing.)

The book suggests a five-week approach to working with her; the first week is all about attending -- basically, being a blow-by-blow narrator of your child's activities. (EM, does this remind you of your dad and Daisy?) Do you KNOW how hard it is to spend 10 straight minutes without asking a question or issuing an instruction to a preschooler? Holy moly.

People, I am a question asker. "Oh, what are you doing?" "Are you swimming in the tub?" "Do you want to add another block to the tower?" "Why is Itchy Frog in a concrete block?!" 

Last night was the first attending session. It was not easy, but she really responded to it. She was so happy when we sat on the porch to play blocks and I focused on only what she was doing. "Oh, look, you put the kitty on top of the tower!" "Your blocks crashed aaalllll over the place!" She laughed and chattered and built a Duplo zoo where the lion, seal, giraffe, whale, shark, and warthog (but not the octopus) all lived together in harmony. No circle of life going on there.

So. We'll see. Fingers -- and eyes -- crossed.

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Bea had her third cardiologist visit this week... status quo, which I can be happy about. The most interesting thing to come out of that appointment? Bea grew more than NINE INCHES over the last 14 months. No wonder all her shirts are too short.

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Somewhere, the child has picked up a flair for the dramatic and an evil laugh. She hid something in her playhouse then gleefully cackled, "OH NO, we never find the tunnel NOW! Mwa ha ha ha ha ha."

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We don't have a kitchen. Instead, we have a chicken. This might be one of my favorite malapropisms.

"Mama, Itchy Frog on the chicken counter!"

"Olivia in the chicken, eatin'." 

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Bea learned a rough lesson the other day. After she insisted on putting on her rainboots, she took her fashionable self out to the front porch. 

"AHHH! A ANT! I get him!"

*smash* went the water bottle on the poor little ant scurrying across the porch. "I GOT HIM! I mash a ant with-ah my water bolluh!"

She lifted up her water bottle and noticed the crumpled ant clinging to the bottom. "Mama, a ant on my bolluh. Get off, please." 

Shockingly, she did not enjoy my response of "too bad, I'm not touching that dead ant" and my subsequent picture taking. 

The lesson here: Clean your own dead ant off your water bottle.

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Bea and I were sitting outside Coffee Tree Roasters in Squirrel Hill this weekend, waiting for Liv's ballet class to end. I had my latte, she had a container of yogurt (yo-lurt), and all was good. Until she finished the yogurt and wanted more. I didn't want to give up our awesome table in the sun, nor did I want to drag in my 87 pounds of library books and 10,000 Villages stuff just to snag another yogurt. "Do you think you can order it yourself?" "YES!"

I gave her a five and sent her in. She marched right up to the counter and handed over the money. I heard her say "Please have yo-lurt?" and point to the case where it was. Then I saw some back and forth between her and the barista as they figured out which flavor. Then she marched out with my change and "my raspberry yo-lurt, mama!" She was very proud of herself, and with good reason. I could not imagine this day even six months ago. Her ability to make herself understood is improving so much. 

Comments

[Susan]

Oh my, I love Bea and all of her triumphs. I can't believe she grew 9 inches! I wish I had my boys' milestone moments like you are experiencing with Bea. I try to remember some of the words Andrew used to say incorrectly and I can't even remember them. He had trouble with the letters L,Y, G, and R. One word he said was "girl" for "grill." He also spoke a form of ebonics (if that is even a correct term) since their foster mother was an older black woman. They spoke like she did. They were 4 and 5 when they moved in with her. It is wonderful to see them grow and learn new things. I think it is awesome that your daugher ordered her own yo-lurt. My 11 year old son won't even go to the bathroom in public by himself unless someone goes into the bathroom with him. Including me, if I am the only one available. So, even though I know 11 is too old to use the women's restroom, he is either playing me or he is still afraid to be by himself in certain places.

[Cari]

Fabulous stuff - all of it. :) NINE INCHES?! Holy crap! No wonder she needed two yogurts!

Miss you guys. :)

[Pam]

I so love your Bea stories, Jennifer! Made my day today. I just adore her!!

[Krystyna]

I love the stories and the fact that they let me watch her grow from afar. The girls love it when I read them aloud! We miss you guys!

[Sarah]

If she grew NINE INCHES in only one year, I'm surprised she only needed two yo-lurts! Go Bea!

[Kelephant]

every single time I read any post on this blog about Bea my eyes well up with tears of happiness. It's such an incredible journey and I love that you share it with us !
And yes, HOLY CRAP ... 9 inches ??? Clearly you feed her more than just yo-lurt !