Thursday, December 18, 2008

Cooking with Cora

When I stepped out of the shower yesterday, I noticed that the door to the bathroom was closed. This, I have learned through hard experience makes the couple minutes after my shower trouble. In this case, I found the culprit sitting on the floor in the kitchen by our turn around cupboard. She was, in her own words "Cooking for YOU Mommy!"

As sweet as the thought was, It just wasn't my morning for trail mix flavored rice vinegar and oil salad dressing. Especially not when the idea of using a bowl just had NOT occurred to the chef. Stunned by my silence, and deciding that my lack of words was a result of miscommunication, She demonstrated her cooking ability by taking a huge globful of vinegar and oil soaked dried fruit and dumping it into the nearest (unplugged) appliance.

It must have been a day for cooking, because after a truely gruesome diaper change I found a puddle of corn syrup and rock salt (with a bit of pepper). And I walked back from using the bathroom to a puddle of lawrys seasoned salt. My kitchen floor is very clean now too!

Oh, and did I mention that I might need to buy a new toaster?

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

All That Effort, and Foiled by Mom.

Nyobi can crawl. Well rather she can push up on her hands and slide her whole body. Unfortunately, she only goes backwards. Put her down on the floor and eventually she rolls over onto her stomach and begins to scoot around the room.

Usually she is trying to get to the toy in front of her. She stares at it in deep concentration. She pushes up. She slides backwards. She then raises her hands and feet off the ground and wiggles them trying to get that forward thing working. Sometimes she uses one arm and reaches for it with pudgy little fingers. Other times she talks to it, with soft happy baby noises, which roughly translate as. "Come closer little chewable object!"

She's been attempting to move forward for the last couple days, so the excitement and urgency are no longer as obvious as when she first discovered her ability to move. Last night was different.

Last night there was a Christmas cookie on a napkin on the floor about two feet in front of her head. Having come to the conclusion that big people food (especially anything associated with Cora) is much better than baby food (pureed green beans and brown rice, bleck!) she zeroed in on the treat. After a quick attempt at cookie whispering, she tried to move.

It resulted in the same backward motion.

So she arched her back. With hands and feet off the ground she began to kick frantically, waving her hands to increase the natural rocking motion. Her eyes were glued on the cookie. She kept it up for quite a while. Finally Mom picked her up, her eyes still focused on the dratted treat.

Wow is she going to go fast when she figures out that her tummy is supposed to be up and her hands and knees down.

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

Mommy, Let my people Go!

Coming out of the bathroom, Cora met me at the door yesterday. She had my keys in her hand, and she spewed out a half intelligible sentence. "Mommy the people are stuck." she said when I asked her to repeat.

"People?" I ask. Wrapping my towel closer around me, and trying to hear noise by my front door.

"Stuck." She adds again, as if I'm being excessively dense. Two year olds must think so quite often. Most people just can't understand them, even though they are wasting all this energy on talking when they could be trying to turn your sofa cushions into snowflakes.

I decide that any people, real or fictitious would rather see me clothed than naked (specific party excluded), and calm her down with an, "In a second, help mommy get dressed first."

whipping through my drawers and pulling on clothes, I retrieve the fore offered keys from Coras hand.

"Where are the people stuck, sweetheart?" I ask.

"In the box." she says. Leading me into the living room. She pulls me over to the fake train set that is lieing on the floor still in its container. "See, they stuck. You unlock them."

Then showing an aptitude for lateral reasoning that surprised me. "Daddy tape them, see!" She points. It is nice to know she suspects Daddy of locking up the imaginary people on the train not me.

Releaved that I wasn't expected to aid some silly Georgians who decided to try driving in a Michigan winter, I sat down and began to help Cora assemble the train. As I pulled out the track, she pulled out the cars. As I assembled the track, she peered into the box. "Where are the people? Where are the houses?" she asked me. She lays down the box and points to the village miniatures they use to make the train set look very appealing.

Fortunately there were people on the train. I explained that those houses were just in the picture, and she could make her own if she liked.

She didn't. She was too busy letting the train run into her hands and then waiting impatiently for me to put it back on the tracks.

I now understand that adults aren't the only ones taken in by false advertising. My husband should thank me for not telling her that he hadn't managed to tape the box shut in time and they escaped.