Friday, October 10, 2008

Something Strange, this way Comes.

Since having a child I have met creatures I did not know existed. Here are a couple of the most recent and cutest things that Coras imagination brought to life. Hopefully this is simply a usual childhood trend and I will not spend years dodging lightening harnessing resucitation machines.

At the restaurant the other day, I met Squishy. That is the name of the pencil topper octopus Cora found in my purse. Squishy borrowed Cora's pen. Squishy drank some of Cora's milk. Cora even made the sippy noise for her. To top it all off, squishy wiped her mouth on Cora's napkin.

Then Squishy jumped on to the floor, inciting Cora to jump down after her and rescue her. This of course was a necessity, which my daughter tried to explain to me trumped the "stay in your seat" order Mom gave her. Finally, at the end of lunch, Squishy jumped back into her bubble gum machine ball, and was stored safely in my purse for the next lunch.

Oing Loing wasn't that lucky. Oin Loing was purchased at a craft fair. He bounced around, the yarn spider that he was, on the end of his elastic thread. He bounced so much in the ten minutes we spent walking the craft fair, that the elastic broke.

In a fit of frustration or bordom, Cora then removed the eyes. After a visit to the emergency Mom hospital, he is now residing on the halloween decorations. Cora still talks to him.

Where squishy and oing loing came from, there are many more creatures to come. I am sure an imaginary freind will eventually take responsibility for some small disaster or another. I look forward to meeting them, and speaking to each one. After all, imagination got me 10 minutes of browsing at a craft fair I never would have had. Perhaps I should go catch an imaginary fly for Oing Loing.

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

My Little Helper

Children are very useful. They take care of some of the nuisances in life that annoy people. Cora is definitely my little helper. Just last night, when food was ready for those strange men who hang out in my basement talking about swords, ogres and skeletons, she performed a very important service.

She stood at the top of the stairs and yelled down, over and over again, "Okay guys, time for dinner! Please to the table! Guys!!! Daddy?" Usually I end up doing that for a very long time before I can be heard over the havoc of battle.

Having no attention span, she is also the perfect answer to sales people, and vendors. At the craft fair, I didn't need and excuse to escape from a chatty junk wielder. I simply followed after my child, breaking off in the middle of sentences. Nobody felt badly, especially when they saw her tearing apart someone elses booth.

My favorite though, was watching her totally discombobulate a sales person at a furniture store. This furniture store is well known for their pushy sales folks, but I had no problems. At one time, in the middle of trying to convince me that I should buy somthing more expensive, we turned and looked over at the bunk beds lined along a wall. I turned back to the saleswoman, then immediately back to the bunkbeds. Cora was on top of the tallest one.

There was no ladder on the tallest one. My two year old climbed up to the top of another one, then somehow spanned a gap as big as herself and hauled herself up to the blocked bunk. Both I and the sales woman made it to the bunk bed in record time. Then with her guarding the entrance route, I convinced Cora to come to me.

After that, the sales lady seemed to realize I was going to leave without buying if Cora could not be contained. All of a sudden, I had a very tolerant babysitter, who kept Cora occupied, brought her cookies, and talked to her, while I did whatever shopping I wanted to. Very useful these children.

I still want to know how she got on top of the bunk beds.

Tuesday, October 7, 2008

Half way to my Fall Goal

During the warmth of summer, and the season of potty training, I became a lax parent. I let Cora play in the back yard, minus her clothes, or run around the house minus the benefit of garments. She is still an infant in many ways, and a child in others. She does not understand nakedness as anything more than freedom of movement. Perhaps age is, in itself an Eden apple we all must bite.

As fall approaches though, the temperatures fall. I started to worry about whether her body could produce enough warmth without some added layers. I began a campaign to coax her back into clothes, and I am happy to say it is working. Yesterday, Cora started out in full pants and shirt. In the morning, she lost her pants. She had to go potty, and then refused to put them back on.

At lunch, she dirtied her shirt. As she pulled it off, I discovered the discarded bottoms in the babies room. For the afternoon she wore those, and no shirt.

If my goal is a clothed child, I am halfway there.

Monday, October 6, 2008


After putting the children to bed, my husband and I relaxed in the living room. Sighing as I sank into my arm chair I glanced over at him. He was absorbed in his computer. I smiled fondly.

Cora profoundly affected everything we do. To provide her a place to sit, my husband was jammed against one arm of his chair, leaving six inches of open space on one side. This space existed for the sole purpose of allowing her to sit with him. I opened my mouth to tease him about still sitting to one side.

Then I glanced down at my chair, and the six inches of fabric between my hip and the armrest. Will I ever sit without providing cuddle room?