Monday, June 2, 2008

in which the sky clears, and the sun breaks through

Ivy has an unerring knack of knowing just when she's pushed Mummy to the edge (where, among other signs of madness, Mummy starts referring to herself in the third person). Ivy can then retreat, secure in having found the boundary. She also gets at her most ratty just before she breaches some new developmental phase - learning to crawl, or walk, or hide the car keys.

Two whole days now, and no head-banging, food-throwing or unconsolable wailing. We've had a tea party with pikelets, made muesli bars and yesterday, we had a whole, actual conversation. It went something like this:

Me - Are you still hungry?
Ivy - Jess.
Me - What would you like to eat?
Ivy - Teesh.
Me - Cheese? OK.
Ivy - OK.
(minutes later)
Ivy - More?
Me - Some more food?
Ivy - Jess.
Me - What would you like?
Ivy - Dos.
Me - Toast? OK.
Ivy - OK.

It's Brecht! It's Shakespeare!I'd like Cate Blanchett to stage it at the STC! Things get better too: tomorrow there is a cleaner called Louise coming for the first time to help out for a couple of hours. Keiths socialist heart is breaking, but me...! Lets just say she'll be lucky to escape without a serious tongue-pashing.

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Thanks for talking to me. I don't got cooties. Oh, except for when I got cooties.