indomitable-jewels-blog

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stone heads

- You are my pretty little soft and scented girl, and I love you soooo much! - I say to D, who is in her bed and ready to sleep.

- I am not soft! My head has stone inside!

- What?

- Our heads are hard because they have stones inside. Our heads are made of stone, see? Very hard. Stone, obviously.

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Ah, the smell of freshly baked bread in the morning..:-D today: corn no-knead bread with pumpkin seeds

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what's for dinner?

D got a toy kitchen from Santa. Both she and Bibi love to cook. There's a fridge, an oven with a roast chicken painted on the back that looks like it's baking, sink, coffee machine and pantry cabinet. They play together, she says something like, I'll fry fish and you can cook potatoes. Today I'm roasting chicken for dinner, while they play.

- Mommy, I'll eat roast chicken now - she says.

- It's not ready yet - I reply.

- It is, it's done! - she argues.

- No, it's still raw, look in the oven over there.

She looks at the kitchen and says, surprised,

- Oh! You're roasting chicken too!

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I hate you for combing my hair...

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what is mama baa called?

D is flipping through a picture book featuring farm animals. She recently started making proper sentences,  and consequently correcting herself, naming things first in her baby language and then saying their proper names, in best pronunciation she can muster.

She turns a page and faces a lamb.

- Baa! Baby baa!

- And what is baby baa called? - I ask.

- Lamb! And here is mama baa!

- Yes, and what is she called?

- Jules! And here is daddy baa!

- You don't say. And what is he called?

- (Daddy's name)!

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musical wish

Bibi is sitting on the floor and playing with a push-car. It has all kinds of sparkly lights and buttons that play sounds and melodies. D bends down to him, hands on her knees like an old lady and asks him seriously, in an adult tone of voice,

- Bibi, which music would you like to hear? Would you like this cheerful one? Or this one with the bear? You have to move the bear like this, see?

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a heartful of surprise

We wash our hands upon arriving home from daycare. She likes to dry her hands on the one side of the same towel as I dry mine on the other side. But today we have a tiny towel, so I give it to her and say,

- Dry your hands, there isn't enough space on the towel for us to do it together.

She holds it for one tiny side, hold her arms out and says,

- Now there is - as my heart makes a triple axle.

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stop hands

D sees everything in colours of traffic lights. Anything red she might see is tani, or stop; all green stuff is keni, or go. Of course, she noticed there is also yellow light for cars, so she calls all yellow things pipama, or ready. Everywhere we go, she instructs me on the colours of the environment,

- Look Mommy, there's a stop car! Mommy, the tree is go!

Last Saturday I went out dancing and painted my nails red, for the first time in over 3 years. The next morning, she was delighted to find Mommy has tani uke, aka stop hands. For the next two days, every time I'd pick her up or hold something out for her, she'd mention the stop hands.

So when she came into my room this morning after I removed the nail polish last night, she was rather surprised and very, very confused to find that I no longer have stop hands, it was like she could not grasp how could they disappear. The expression on her little face was utter confusion and it was sooooo funny I wish I had a camera.

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not a musical genius

Saw an old episode of Malcolm in the middle yesterday, when Reese got an idea that, since Malcolm and Dewey were both geniuses, he must be one too. Wondering in what field, he made a list of things like talking with animals or an escape artist and started trying them out.

This morning, D discovered singing out loud to a made-up tune. All it made me think was, Not a musical genius, either.

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dirty dancing

So I started teaching social dance to elementary school kids. The school is a local thing in a small community outside of town. Kids are absolutely great. There's a little girl who knows all about Dirty dancing movies and claims to see each of all three parts on a monthly basis.

I listened in fascination while she explained how her mom, who is btw also a redhead and same age as me (she pointed it out like a perk), is dazzled with them and completely in love with Patrick Swayze (God rest his soul, she caps it gravely).

It was kind of hard to keep a straight face.

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teddy heaven

She is holding a little green plush teddy in her hand, one of soft baby toys Bibi plays with that she adopted into her teddy kindergarten, and feeding it with a plastic spoon, saying

- Eat teddy, it's good! - in the exact same tone as I do when she is squeamish about her own food.

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Oblutak-pupak

D gleda TV vrtic. Pocinje crtic o djecaku koji se zove Oblutak (na francuskom valjda ima smisla).

- Beba! - odusevljeno ce ona.

- Da, beba, Zove se Oblutak - kazem.

- Da, Pupak!

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cover that hole

I sleep in a top with a large cleavage. It has nothing to do with being sexy: with a little baby in my bed, it's so much easier that way. So this morning, in comes D.

- Maaamaaa!

- Good morning dear, come up to cuddle! - I say, as she climbs into the bed and grabs for the blanket. She looks at me suspiciously, starts covering my chest and says,

- Mama cover hole. Titty cold.

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misunderstanding

D: Jejena kenja! ja: molim?! D: Jejena kenja! ja: Jelena kenja? D: Ne! Jajina knga! ja: Lalina knjiga? D (pokroviteljski, kao da ima posla s idiotom): Ahaaaaaa! Bavo Bumba! LOL

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nema fuka

D stavi prste u usi i kaze:

- Mama, nema fuka (zvuka)!

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shadow girl

Returing home from kindergarten around noon on a sunny day, D looks at her shadow, perfect in size and form, and exclaims,

- There's Noonya walking!

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A horrible mother

We came back from a walk, D is tired and Bibi just woke up in his stroller. I open the door, let D into the hallway, she carries her little wooden bike inside to park it behind the door, then moves to the stairs so I can come inside with the stroller and manouver it behind the door where there is room just for these two things, tightly (it's a fashion of a kind in Kryptoslavenia to build so that stairways are narrow and there is barely space to take the new furniture up to the apartment, parking space for bikes, strollers and such is a luxury).

I enter, put the bag of grapes that I got from a neighbour on the doorknob on the inside, park the stroller, take the stroller bag on my shoulder and take the bag from the doorknob, then turn to the stairs and say to D,

- Ok, let's go, up you go! 

She looks at me with total confusion and says with a tinge of alarm in her voice,

- Bibi?