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Archives for April, 2008
Sounds familiar?
Oh, kids! They love to get hanged upside down, walk on either a tightrope or on shards of broken glasses and eat fire. An exaggeration. But aren’t they cute attention-seekers little entertainers?
My son is no different and I find myself playing along a willing audience to my cute daredevil’s antics. Imagine, the proud mother waving pompoms in the air! Though sometimes, with terror in my eyes. But generally, I don’t mind. And more so if the show is mental in nature - like identifying flags, opposites etc… I couldn’t be more ecstatic knowing that his mind is absorbing things like a sponge. I really don’t mind him showing off what he has learned - especially when he does that on his own accord. No prodding from anybody, no outside forces.
I only mind when someone prods him to. Like the affectionate grandmother.While I’m so grateful that I don’t have to leave my son to a stranger when I go to work (Thanks, Ma!), it bothers me when she starts showing off what Matt can do to guests who come by our house. I know she’s proud and amused that Matt knows this or that but my throat would start to hurt (as I swallow jagged and chunky words) everytime the affectionate grandmother turns into a ringmaster and directs the grandson like a circus star.
You just won’t hear me say “Tickets, anyone?” for this.
Couldn’t find a fun sign so I’m putting this up instead. Not funny. Maybe unique. You’ll see this at the observation deck of the Chocolate Hills (Bohol, Philippines).
I followed a link from my WW post at Verb and read someone say that no matter how bad a day is, there is always a bright moment - and it’s only a matter of looking what that is.
I totally agree.
Last night, after jumping up and down the bed like a bouncing ball, Matt started panting. And coughing.
I wasn’t happy. Holding him, I could clearly hear the familiar wheezing again.
Then Matt said, “Ubo ko (I’m coughing). Drink medicine, Mama.”
How cool is that. I don’t really need to coax him to drink his medicine.
For more of Thankful Thursday participants, please visit Iris.
Just like the Earth. We can either make it or break it.
Visit the Wordless Wednesday HQ. Also, 5minutes4mom.
We all know what Lactacyd is. You know Lactacyd, right? Raise your legs if you know.
But in case you don’t know, this is Lactacyd.
Yes. Lactacyd, the feminine wash. That’s what I’m talking about.
I’m treading dangerous ground so okay, I’ll be careful.
One night, while I was talking with my son, he suddenly muttered.
“Lactacyd. For the va–”
Okay there was no pause. But I honestly held my breath for few seconds after the word “Lactacyd” came out.
Every cells in my body were listening to what he’s about to say next. Muscles, all tensed.
“…For the va-dy,” he finished.
One… Two… Three seconds.
Va-dy? Did I miss something?
Boy. Book. Band. Bag. Ball. Bad. Bbbbbb. Ba-be-bi-bo-bu. I’m sure he knows his B. I heard him enunciate Bs correctly.
But va-dy? Is that a new term or is there a new part now called va-dy?
“Lactacyd. For the va-dy.” That night, I left it at that.
Va-dy ha! Maybe I should start teaching the proper names of the Body Parts. Hmm? Tsk.Tsk.
