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August 31, 2005
Jones II
I just had to turn the DVD off and when I stood up, I let my breath out. Signa said, "Why are you frusterated, Momma?"
So that was my quick Signa-ism. In other news, we got a new Jones. He's super tiny, super loving and super playful. He looks just like Jones and his name is Jones II. Jack is still getting used to him. And by "getting used to him" I mean that he has now seemly stopped hissing. But Jones II is relentless. Chases him and climbs up him and attacks him. Which is funny because Jack is about literally 20 times his size.
But they are both SOOOOO very cute!!!!
Posted by Debbie at 05:44 PM | Comments (1)
August 27, 2005
At Least Elbows are Loved
For the past few weeks, Signa has been fighting going to sleep. We decided (prayed) it was because we were putting her down too late, after the Window of Opportunity passed. So last night I tried putting her down at 8pm. This story is about how much she hated me for it, but the result: made no difference. Instead of fighting going to sleep for 30 minutes, she faught it for an hour and a half. But here is the real reason I'm writing about this. Here is how mad she was:
Signa: "I don't love you! I only love Daddy!"
Me: "I know, I know. But it's time to be quiet and try to go to sleep." I give her my elbows to massage.
Signa: "I don't love you! Daddy! Daddy! I want my daddy! I love Daddy. I don't love you." Massaging elbows.
Me: "That's not nice, Signa. Shhhhh... time for sleep." More elbows.
Signa: "I don't like you!" Massaging elbows.
Me: "Fine." I turn over, making elbows unaccessable.
Signa: "I don't love you! I don't like you! [pause] I love elbows, though..."
Posted by Debbie at 08:07 AM | Comments (1)
August 26, 2005
Haircut #4
On Monday night, we went for Signa's fourth haircut in a place not our bathtub. I remember it's number four because:
* The first time, I was nervous about scissors being near her eyes.
* The second time, she cried hysterically the whole time.
* The third time, she sat in my lap and got a crooked haircut because she was sqirmy.
This brings us to Haircut Outside the Bathtub #4.
This time, she sat on a big booster seat all by herself and even carried out small talk with the haircutter.
"You have babies?"
"Yes, I have 2 children. Would you like to see their pictures?"
"Okay!"
"This is So-and-so and this is So-and-so."
"So-and-so is my friend!"
"Yes, she probably would be your friend. Put your head back like this."
"Like this?"
"Yes, that's perfect."
"Yes. Perfect. I am having a Darth Vader birthday."
"Really. A Darth Vader birthday?"
"Yes."
And she held her head just right and sat still and never cried.
I did, though. My little baby girl never has seemed more grown up than she did at that moment.
Posted by Debbie at 04:23 PM | Comments (1)
August 23, 2005
I can't think of a title that works
This morning Signa came bouncing down the hall, saying, "Boing, Boing, Boing." Then she pulled out her diaper as far as it would go, looked down in it and said, "See? A baby dinosaur in my pouch!" And there was.
Posted by Debbie at 11:16 AM | Comments (0)
August 18, 2005
How to Ask for Something
This morning Signa asked if she could watch videos with Marc. He didn't answer right away, as he was doing something else, so she starts saying, "Please please please... please please please please please please." Over and over again. Which, in itself, is nothing,right? Just a 2-year-old nearly 3-year-old whining "please" over and over until she gets your attention.
However, let it be noted that *OUR* 2-year-old nearly 3-year-old was doing it to the tune of Darth Vader's theme song.
Please please please
Please please please please please please
Go ahead. Try it in your head. Or aloud. I dare you.
Posted by Debbie at 04:06 PM | Comments (1)
August 17, 2005
Tribute to Jones
He's named for the cat in Alien and he is a big wussy kitty full of love. He also loves Signa more than anything, which is surprising because he's scared of nearly everything. Whenever she would start to cry, if we let her linger without running to her, he would come to get us. If Mom was babysitting, she wouldn’t even be allowed to use the bathroom. He’d stake himself outside the door, as if to say, “Hey. You’ve left your post and I notice!” If Signa was sleeping in her room (the two times she did…), he would sleep in the doorway. When she is in our bed, as always? He sleeps next to her, watching over her.
Even before she was born, Jones hijacked a bib of hers and claimed it for himself. He’d love all over it. Same with Signa’s My Little Pony. Of course, Jack likes that one, too. Something about the pink hair, I think.
Even though he’s always been the super sensitive one, ultra scared of strangers and prone to hiding under the bed, he was the first to welcome Jack to the family. Poor Jack, after an 8-hour trip home from Oregon, ran behind the refrigerator. While we were freaking out wondering if we did the right thing by bringing him home with us, Jones was coaxing him out and tending him. Jones bathed him and showed him the ropes. Like he is the momma kitty and Jack is the baby.
He also has the most songs of any of our pets. “Mi-ster Big Balls, Mister Big Balls.” “Me and Mister, Mister Jones Mister Jones Mister Jones” “Ooobie op ooobie, yeah you’re my newbie. Newbie Jo-ones.” The last one (ooobie op oobie), used to be “oh you’re my newbie” until Jones starred in my dream years and years ago, where he was riding a bicycle through a China shop. The soundtrack in my dream featured Neil Diamond (who I don’t even like) changing our words to “YEAH you’re my newbie.” It stuck.
We got Jones 14 years ago. I went with Diane to a veterinarian office to get food for her cats and there was a sign, “Kittens need home.” We looked at the kitties, just because, and I wanted Jones. I called Marc and we went down and got him. Marc always wanted an orange tabby.
They said he was the “out of control” one, but he wasn’t ANYTHING like how Skootr was; clearly their concept of “out of control” was different from ours. Sure he played- his favorite was tennis balls or super balls--, but he also loved. A lot. He has always been our “moldable” cat; you can pick him up and put him how you want and he’ll stay. Roll over at night? No problem. Newbie Jones will stay how you want. Need covers? No problem. Jones likes them, too.
Hygiene isn’t really his favorite. His ears have always been dirty and we have been known to call him, “Stinky Dirty Ass Kitty” on several (thousand) occasions. But he would gladly bathe Jack until they’d have Battle of the Titans and both get kicked off the bed.
His meow is distinctive, too. A clear “MEEE OWWW”. And his party trick. I say, “Where are you going on vacation, Jones?” and hold out my finger, pointing at him. He answers with a big rub on my finger with his nose. “The Poconos!” is the answer.
Well, our kitty angel Newbie Jones is gone now. One diet too many and his poor liver couldn’t recover, as hard as we tried to make it do so. Monday we said goodbye to the greatest cat that will ever be (shhhh… don’t tell Jack I said that- but Jack is tied for the super-close-second greatest cat ever with Skootr).
Signa is unaffected by Jones' death. Upon hearing the news, she answered, "Jack's not died," and climbed on him. The next morning after being reminded that Jones died when she asked where he was, she said (all excited), "I wanna see him died! That'd be Great!" She tells all the neighbors happily that "Jones is died."
Anyway, I tried to write down all the memories of Jones, so that he is never ever forgotten, but there are no real words for the Jones that is the Newbie Jones. To say we are heartbroken is a hideously gross understatement. How will this Christmas be with TWO less stockings to hang for our babies? We tried to make his last days happy, though, and I think he knows how much he means to us. We will never ever forget our Baby Newbie Jones with the stinky dirty ass and fear of "We are Beatrice" and "The Horror".
Posted by Debbie at 04:37 PM | Comments (2)
August 15, 2005
Pictures
July Pictures!
www.mascotmanor.org/Pictures/july05/index.htm
Posted by Debbie at 10:20 AM | Comments (1)
August 10, 2005
Music
Signa sings constantly, but changes the words to most songs. She is also very particular about what songs she will listen to. Current favorites include:
Steve Martin singing, "King Tut" on Saturday Night Live. "When he was young man, never thought we see people stand in line to see the boy king. King Tut. Da da. Da da da da." She wants to be King Tut for Halloween.
The Ramones, especially Blitzkrieg Bop. She sings it to everything she does. "Looking at the oven. Kicking at the toys. Blitzkrieg Bop. Hey ho let's go. Hey ho let's go."
Fish Heads- I don't know who does it, but it's "Fish heads, fish heads, roly poly fish heads. Fish heads, fish heads, eat them up yum." And so on. She sings this correctly. Which is even funnier.
Bah Bah Black sheep. But it's "Have you any wool? Yes, sir, yes, sir, big bad wolf."
Posted by Debbie at 12:06 PM | Comments (2)
August 05, 2005
Kids Say the Darndest Things
Oh, the things they say. Here is a plethora of Signa sayings from just this week (and it’s only Friday…)
“Don’t say, ‘Fuck yeah’.” Reminding herself that “Fuck yeah” (from Team America movie) is a bad word, but then yelling, “FUCK!!!” at the top of her lungs in a sing-song fashion.
“P-O-O-P spells poop. No, I didn’t go poop.” Shocking us with her spelling powers and scaring us that we can never, ever spell again. How will we talk to each other? Thankfully, today she sang, “P-O-O-P-Q-R-S-T-U-V”. So we are safe. For now.
“I *SAID* ---“ and then whatever we weren’t paying attention to her saying 30 times before. So it sounds like this:
“So, Marc, then at work-“
”I wanna go to the libwawee tomorra.”
“-we had this meeting and-“
“I wanna go to the libwawee!”
“-they couldn’t get the stupid phone thing to work and we-“
”I *SSSSSAAAAAIIIIIDDDDD* I WANT TO GO TO THE LIBWAWEE TOMORRA!!!”
And from the answer to that, she learned to telling Marc to, “Don’t say, ‘It’s all good.’ That’s not proper etiquette!”
“Look what I found! It’s Emiril!” Referencing spaghetti sauce at the grocery store. We have the cooking channel on just a bit too much, I guess.
“I’m falling apart!” Also said at the grocery store when it was time to leave. Pre-melt down. It’s nice to get a warning.
“I’m all hot. Don’t make me mad! Oh, look at that ducky!” After grocery store near-melt down in the car on the way home.
“No, no, no, Jack! Never, never tell you again!” You know how you say, “I don’t want to tell you again…” as a warning? She just mixed it up a bit when she was yelling at Jack for eating food that was not his.
“That’s a TERRIBLE idea! I want my daddy! I miss my daddy!” Then sobbing wrenching tears. All because Marc went across the street and I suggested we make dinner.
“Perrito, here is a present for you! Mmmmm, a bone! Ruff! Ruff! HAAAA HAAA HAAA HAAA I’m so excited!” Dora action figure gave the dog action figure an imaginary present and he opened it. Evidently it was a bone. And he liked it.
“I’m little red riding hood and I’m carrying blueberries at you!” While she carried a beach ball with red, white, and blue stripes on it in a basket.
And in other cute things, she sang a song to Pee Pee Shark, her shark that fills with water that leaks out of his… well, pee pee.
We play a Winnie the Pooh game and if she has to skip a turn and not go for a token, she says, “PWEEEEZE?” and gives me that fake super cute grin.
We also play chess. She only likes the horses and they have to say, “Hi!” over and over again to each other. It’s not really at all like chess.
Posted by Debbie at 09:18 PM | Comments (0)
August 02, 2005
Mackulay Culken
Signa loves monsters, Godzilla, Star Wars. She's seen Sky Captain in the theater and thinks that the giant robots are "cheery." She is afraid of nothing.
Except Mackulay Culken.
Yes. Mackulay Culken, the kid from Home Alone. A month or so ago, we got a package from Marc's sister with some things she was tossing. Included among them was a Mackulay Culken doll with pull strings followed by talking. Or in Mackulay Culken's case, SCREAMING. A scream NOT actually at all like that which he performed with his hands on his face in the movie, but more like that of a dying wounded animal. Only louder. And in Signa's ear.
Signa promptly burst into sobbing horror tears. Mackulay Culken was thrown into the garage so that we could sleep and she could stop obsessing on him.
But because we are mean, for weeks afterward, you could hear Marc or me saying things like, "If you don't eat your chicken, Mackulay Culken is coming." Signa would supply a panicked look and then nod up and down, "Later. Macky Cucken later. Later."
But we did feel (sort of) bad, too, so we decided to give him up. Marc was going to let Signa toss him in the trash for the garbage man to take away, but then we just told her that's what we did. I wanted to make sure that he wasn't worth, say, $2,000 on EBAY. He's not. $8. If you can find someone to buy him.
Anyway, last night he somehow came up in conversation and she said, "Garbage man take him away. Macky Cucken gone. Garbage man take him away. No Macky Cucken later. It's just me and you now."
Where in the world did she get, "It's just me and you now"?
Do we say that?
And while we are discussing things we say, I was so proud to have stopped saying, "Shit" and now saying, "Crap." What an accomplishment. But, you know, when "crap" comes out of Signa's mouth, it really isn't much better than "shit".
Crap.
She also exclaimed, "Oh, Lord it's hot," when we got in the car the other day. Surely we don't say, "Oh, Lord" enough to have taught it to Signa.
Do we?
Oh, Lord.
Posted by Debbie at 04:03 PM | Comments (2)