Funny, Funny Lucia
Whew. Knock on wood, it seems we’ve turned a corner in the paw-paw withdrawal. We hunkered down at home on Saturday—played on the stoop for a while, but that was it—and by Sunday Lucia seemed more her old self.
A couple of funny, funny things from the past couple of days:
When we were out on the stoop on Saturday, a woman in a black burka walked by. “OH!” Lucia said at the top of her lungs, perking up and staring after the woman avidly. “A GHOST!” Andrew and I were speechless, mostly because we were laughing too hard (silently) to say anything. Hilarious. (I finally told Lucia that no, it wasn’t a ghost, it was just a woman wearing a special robe.)
Lucia continues to sing more or less continuously throughout the day. Today, however, for the first time, she decided to join me in my lullaby-singing as I put Greta down for her morning nap. Greta was on the brink of sleep when I laid her into her crib, softly singing to her. Lucia, who was, of course, playing in the room the whole time, ran up to the crib, peered through the slats, and began singing, “TWINKLE, TWINKLE, LITTLE STAR…” She sang the whole song, in a loud performer’s voice. Miraculously, Greta closed her eyes and went to sleep.
Lucia calls “oatmeal” “oat-bduh.” No idea why. And when she says “meal,” as in, “I’m making a meal” (with play food), she says the word in a slow, drawn-out whine that sounds like “meeoow.” “I’m making a mee-aaal.”
Finally, an observation: Without paw-paw, Lucia has already changed. Even among the hard stuff this week, I could see it—talking more, giggling more, increased silliness, different kinds of playing. She even looks a little bit older. She still carries paw-paw around with her, but once or twice she’s even forgotten it in the crib after a nap or in the morning. Bibi, or course, is still beloved.
A couple of funny, funny things from the past couple of days:
When we were out on the stoop on Saturday, a woman in a black burka walked by. “OH!” Lucia said at the top of her lungs, perking up and staring after the woman avidly. “A GHOST!” Andrew and I were speechless, mostly because we were laughing too hard (silently) to say anything. Hilarious. (I finally told Lucia that no, it wasn’t a ghost, it was just a woman wearing a special robe.)
Lucia continues to sing more or less continuously throughout the day. Today, however, for the first time, she decided to join me in my lullaby-singing as I put Greta down for her morning nap. Greta was on the brink of sleep when I laid her into her crib, softly singing to her. Lucia, who was, of course, playing in the room the whole time, ran up to the crib, peered through the slats, and began singing, “TWINKLE, TWINKLE, LITTLE STAR…” She sang the whole song, in a loud performer’s voice. Miraculously, Greta closed her eyes and went to sleep.
Lucia calls “oatmeal” “oat-bduh.” No idea why. And when she says “meal,” as in, “I’m making a meal” (with play food), she says the word in a slow, drawn-out whine that sounds like “meeoow.” “I’m making a mee-aaal.”
Finally, an observation: Without paw-paw, Lucia has already changed. Even among the hard stuff this week, I could see it—talking more, giggling more, increased silliness, different kinds of playing. She even looks a little bit older. She still carries paw-paw around with her, but once or twice she’s even forgotten it in the crib after a nap or in the morning. Bibi, or course, is still beloved.
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