Waiting For The Sun

I'm fairly certain that I'm boring.

The background: Several nights ago I heard Gage talking in his room at 10:30 at night. I knew he hadn't fallen asleep yet, because I heard him off and on since bedtime. I go to check on him.

Me: "Everything okay, pal?"
Gage: "Yep. I'm just talking to myself and waiting for the sun to shine through the windows."

Oh. Okay. Carry on, then. But it'll be a while....

The current: Last night he was still up at ten o'clock and I went to see what was up. He told me he had to go pee, so I said okay. He followed me to the bathroom and I sat him on the potty, sat myself on the edge of the tub.

Gage (walking 'Mr. Fingers' [his index and middle fingers of his right hand] around on his legs): "Mumble, mumble, whisper, whisper." I can't make out what he's saying.
Me (thinking about the other night): "It's neat to talk to yourself, you know?"
Gage: silence, still walking Mr. Fingers.
Me: "I just think it's cool to, you know, like talk to yourself sometimes. It's like thinking, but out loud. And you--"
Gage: "Mommy."
Me: "When you talk to yourself you can say whatever you want, you know?"
Gage: "Mommy."
Me: "I do it, too. I talk to myself sometimes. And that's fine. It's kind of cool."
Gage: "Mommy! Privacy, please?"

Wow. Dissed by my two-year-old. I think I just got a glimpse of what we're in for during puberty. Except, in retrospect, I probably would have wanted me to shut up already, too, LOL.

Speaking of puberty, Lila is crazy emotional. I just don't remember Gage being this way as a baby. She knows what she wants, and she won't be deterred! She's ruthless, that one. If I take something away from her she throws her body into contortions - she arches her back and rips her head backward and screams. I've nearly dropped her several times. I'm not going to lie. *Several* times.

She screams when she's nursing and she's finished all the milk. She is *infuriated* at my lack of unlimited supply.

She screams 18 times during every Mommy & Me Yoga Class when she slips my grip and starts merrily crawling toward a stand-alone fan, wanting so much to pull the thing over onto herself. I always stop her before she gets there, and she screams for the thirty seconds I can hold onto her wet-bar-of-soap/fish-out-of-water body and as soon as she slips away she heads right over to the fan again. I'm still wondering why I *paid* for that class...because this paragraph really encompasses most of what we did there.

Classes...we just started Gage in one. A gym class at Parkettes in Allentown. Mike and Gage will go to the gym every Saturday morning for 12 weeks - it's a 1-3 yr old class. So far - we've only had one class - I really like the teacher and Gage really likes the gym. I take him occassionally to the Open Gym there, where he can do as he pleases for an hour - trampolines, foam pit, balance beams, sliding boards, bars, etc. The class is more structured, which is good. I think it'll be good for him.

And the balance beam. He has exceptional balance. I seriously think that it's one of his major strengths. Look at this tower:


This isn't anything exceptional; I just happened to have the camera right there. He does this kind of thing all. The. Time. He throws these towers together in five seconds, barely even adjusting the items. He just senses how it's going to balance, and it always does. I never think his towers will stand, but they always do.

It just seems to make sense to him.

It's the same thing with the balance beam. He'll hop up onto a regular 4-inch beam, a couple of feet in the air, and walk along the thing at his totally normal pace, without looking down or anything. One foot right exactly in front of the other. With much more confidence and speed than I would have, and quite a more cavalier attitude about it. I barely touch his hand to make sure he doesn't fall, but I won't leave his side yet...just because, you know. I'm his mama.

I wanted to record some of the mispronunciations he's currently embracing. They're so funny, and pure, and I don't want to forget them. So....

Throat = Froap...as in "Food goes in my mouth, then down my froap, then into my belly!"

Pulp = Seaweed...as in "Gage no yike dis orange. Too much seaweed!"

Upside down = Upside Over

Velcro = Bell-tow

You're welcome = You're Yell-comb

Strangely, the PBS show Word World = Wharf Door

And, still, By myself = My byself

Oh, I just thought of one more story. Today Gage, Lila and I were in Gage's room, cleaning. Lila was crawling around, finding things to play with. I was cleaning up the wooden kitchen, and Gage was flitting between helping me, visiting Lila and running a toy motorcycle on the floor.

Gage: "Yi-yah, what do you have in your mouth?" I look over at them. To my astonishment, in perfect imitation of me, Gage sweeps his finger in Lila's mouth and pulls out a little wooden plug - the kind that goes in a screw hole to make furniture look nice.

Gage: "No, Yi-yah, you're too yittle for dis."

Me: "Wow, Gage, good job! That was so great. Lila wasn't supposed to have that. And you got it away from her. Well done."

Gage (looking at me sympathetically and waiting a respectful several seconds before replying): "It's okay, Mommy. You didn't know."

This kid, man. This kid. How does *he* know?