The worst day ever in the history of days. Ever.
Parkie, the Park Rat, the Tiny One. My third-born maniac she-child. I love her. This kid is just so crazy and funny. And I have gone crazy enough that I think everything's funny these days, so we're a good pair.
If you dig back through the archives of this blog (Don't. Please. Lord only knows what sort of first time parent psychosis I splattered all over the universe in this blog's early days), you will certainly find posts where I fret about Phook's relatively modest language acquisition process. By which I mean she was totally normal, but on the back end of the normal range when it came to being able to say new sounds and then words. She ultimately never did a single thing outside the normal range, and currently speaks like a thesaurus. But at the time that she wasn't saying quite as many things as a huge random sample of her peers (by which I mean like 2 other kids I knew who had older siblings), I was losing a lot of sleep over it. Stupidhead me.
Parkie is the opposite of that. She's the kid who makes other people freak out about their own toddler's language development. Because she's 2.5 years old, and she says shit like this:
- "Actually, I'm not touching the breakable decoration. I'm just looking at it very carefully."
- "Mom, can you please move your forearm? I'd like to snuggle there. Thank you."
- "I would really like to have some lemonade or some tea. Or hot chocolate. But I do not want water, because it is boring."
It's really weird. When I stop and think about it, at least. It's really weird.
And funny. The thing it is most is funny. Because if you have a big vocabulary and the capacity to verbalize all the nonsense that flies through your two-year-old brain, you can slay the bastards. Which she does. I would say she is highly understandable to strangers in about 95% of her speech.
The only thing that lingered as a token of babyhood in her speech development was that for the longest time, she could not pronounce the 'S' sound on the front of most words, basically whenever the 'S' was followed by a consonant. It doesn't seem like that big of a deal, but in practice it was just about the funniest thing ever. Funny in an "I'm a parent, I think this sort of shit is funny" kind of way. Now I'm going to record some s-free Parkie statements for posterity. If you cannot understand my phonetic spelling, just add an 'S' sound to the front of the confusing word to figure out what she's actually saying.
- Mom, don't read me that one! That's a really kary tory.
- Holy mokes! That's a lot of no! Phook doesn't even have kool today!
- Hey, that's a pretty flower. Can I mell it?
- Can I go to 4K? Can I ride the kool bus?
- Mom, I'm hungry. Can you please get me a nack?
- Are you really gonna bury me in that no bank, mom?
- Dad, you're a tinky goat!
- Can I have another moothie? A trawberry one?
- Can I have a coop of ice cream?
- Will you wing me outside mom? I can get in the wing all by myself!
- Why is that bird called a wan? Why is that wan honkin' so loud?
- Hey, let's go down the lide!
- Why is Uncle Growler's real name Noot?
Do you know where this is going?
Today, she woke up, and she could say the letter 'S.' Just like that. She said to me, "Hey mom, can I have a smoothie for breakfast?" Clear as a bell. I am not lying when I tell you that there are literally scores of people I know in real life whose death you could have announced to me, and I would have mourned their passing less. It is just so terrible.
The thing is, this Parkie has never been much in the way of being a baby. She did everything fast, like her siblings before her. Only in hyper-speed. I can't remember her acting like a baby in terms of temperament. No whining or clinging or fear. I see her with peers and she seems like a teenager in comparison. It's just so weird. But, she couldn't say that 'S.' So she was a baby.
I called Big K in hysterics. I demanded he hurry home and impregnate me. (In a chaste, hand-hug sort of way, Hode.) He declined. The thing is, I don't want another baby either. I don't. I've got shit to do and it doesn't include another pregnancy. What I want is for Parkie to stay little. I want her to be a perma-baby.
Today she busted out with that letter 'S' and reminded me that my wish will absolutely not be granted.
Of course I acted rationally and chose to soothe myself by sitting down at my computer to look at baby pictures of my children, weeping and gnashing my teeth all the while. I am really good at making good choices when it comes to stopping the runaway train of my emotions. By which I mean, of course, that I am not.
Woe, woe, woe.
I don't know what else to say. Except that this person, this baby, appears to be a little girl.