I don’t know how the hell I used to come up with interesting material on a regular basis. What’s better is that kids are generally great blog fodder, yet, I find myself struggling with what to write these days.
Yesterday, I called out to the Mini that I had a surprise for him. I heard him come running from the family room screaming “CHEESE.” I was kind of bewildered. “What the… How the hell did he know I was giving him cheese? Certainly he can’t SEE me unwrapping the cheese.” To which the Meester replied that he probably heard it. At which point we got into one of those friendly marital arguments about whether or not you can tell the sound of one of those (organic, naturally) processed cheese slices being unwrapped. I call bullshit. He tried to demonstrate by unwrapping a slice. If you were blindfolded, there’s no way in hell you could decipher it to be a piece of cheese. Part of the point of the argument was that the Mini could most likely tell given his super spidey hearing abilities. While it’s true, he does have this freakish hearing, it’s sometimes a detriment to him. The detriment being that he’s still got the language processing issue going on. And I’d be lying if I said this didn’t bother me. There are days where it upsets me. What if he never gets past it? HOW the hell is he going to get past it? There’s no denying he’s a smart kid. It’s not a bragging thing. I’m amazed at what he teaches himself. That aside, he’s got social and language issues, and while we’ve made leaps, HUGE leaps. There are these little tweaky things that feel as if we’ve been battling forever. I look at parents who are starting to have conversations with their kids and I want that. I am sure that one day, I’ll look back and it’ll all be a hazy memory, but right now, it’s still a tough road.
My Little Girl turned a month old last week. I can’t believe how fast it’s flying the second time around. She’ll be six weeks on Monday (!). She is so so different than the Mini was at this age. She’s definitely all girl. She hates to be put down, ever. At this age, the Mini was fussy. He cried for no reason. She too, is fussy, but she knows what she wants. Already opinionated, she literally looked me in the eye and screamed in my face the other night, as if to say “WHY WON’T YOU GIVE ME WHAT I WANT?” Most of the time, I could not decipher the Mini’s cries. She makes herself understood, loud and clear. When she is happy, she lights up the room. She is all smiles and coos. She loves the attention. When she is pissed off she turns shades of purple that I did not know existed. I obviously lover her to bits and her smiles, like the Mini’s, make my day, but I can already see the teenage angst and it is not pretty. She’s also starting to look more like me as she gets older. I still see a lot of similarities between her and the Mini when he was an infant, but there was never a doubt that he was the Meester’s clone son. Because I my child didn’t look anything like me, it’s very bizarre to look at this tiny person and see the resemblence.
Yeah, I know. I’m hoping that once they get older, they’ll provide more blog fodder too.