I'm going to a slumber party tonight! At a lake house! With many wonderful girlfriends! Girlfriends who like to talk about husbands and sex and good food! Shebang! I'm so excited to get away, even if just for one evening.
This will be my frist official slumber party since the 9th grade when I stayed at a friend's house with a group of girls and saw on the news that Princess Diana's car crashed and she didn't survive. I remember none of us believed it- we all thought it was fake. Didn't make for much of a giddy slumer party after that... We all went to bed talking about how it just didn't seem like bad stuff could happen to people like Princess Di.
I'm hoping this slumber party will have some redeeming qualities, and to make sure of this fact, I went and bought me some big ol' bottles of wine for us to drink. I plan to stay up late and engage in some deep discussions and possibly even showcase some of my mad floppy dancing skills. The beauty and humor in my dancing has always been my rubber-band arms. I like to flop them wildly while my feet do something else entirely. (Are you picturing it now? Now, just add some goofy head bobbing and some fierce white-man's-overbite you're almost there!)
Ezra has started saying another word, and it has to be one of the STRANGEST first words ever spoken by a toddler. Chris was showing him how to take apart his legos the other day, and while he was pulling the pieces apart he was telling Ezra that it was called 'detatch'. Sooo... now my son says 'DETATCH' and 'CAR and 'BALL' and 'MOON' and 'MALL' and 'MAMA'. I'll try to get video of him saying his new word. It's pretty hilarious.
It seems that Ezra is willing and eager to repeat anything that Chris wants him to say, but when I try to get him to say something, he just looks at me like 'no way in hell, momma.' Perhaps he has trained himself to tune out the nasaly screech that is my voice. I wouldn't blame him for that. Not even a little bit.
I've been cutting back on TV time for Ezra the last few days as well, and it has made a huge difference. We watch PBS in the morning while he munches on a his waffle and I get dressed and ready for the day. I'm trying to limit it to that- with the occasional afternoon movie thrown in. I want it to be more of a treat and less of a part of our daily routine. It's hard work getting him out of a pattern that I should never have let him get into in the first place. It's hard work to put everything else aside (cleaning, websites) and just sit down on his floor with him and pretend to be a flying dinosaur for an hour. It's hard work to get him to sit at the table and eat his food instead of letting him run around and graze at his own pace.
But the rewards have been well worth the effort so far, and he has been a little trooper with the change. And, me? Well, I've been adjusting a bit more slowly and drinking a LOT more coffee.
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