The baby is having PROBLEMS, which means that EVERYONE is having problems. And alas, alas, she’s too big to be abandoned anywhere, because she knows her name and my name and how many teeth she has. And she’s usually clean, so people will think she’s awwwl wost instead of an ol gutter punk toddler.
Gutter Punk Toddler: “Heyyy, man. Spare some change for a ya-pop?” But she would spend it on those vending machines that sell those tiny Homies.
All right. So the real story is that she is talking in her sleep–very disconcerting. The child got into bed with us the other night, and I was sleeping so heavily that I didn’t know it until she spoke, loudly and in a rather deep voice.
“GIVE ME MY YA-POP.”
Mr. Husband and I bolted upright and looked at each other.
“What was that?” I said.
“I think it was some kind of demon,” he replied.
“GIVE ME MY YA-POP,” Frannie repeated. I could see her eyes rolling around under her tiny eyelids. Ugh, call a priest.
“I think she wants her lollypop,” I said, waiting for her to start spitting fire or some such thing.
She quieted down a while after that…I think she only intoned her mantra another three times or so. That really is a child’s mantra–chanting about sugar.
This morning it was, “Pick me up!” And right after Mr. Husband got up for work and was walking across the room.
“Pick me up! Pick me up, Daddy!” About twelve more times, and sound asleep to boot.
The kind of creepy thing about it, besides the fact that it comes from OUT OF FUCKING NOWHERE, when you are sleeping lightly, is the fact that her words are so eerily clear. She’s two and a half and is a bit of a mushmouth as they all are, but I understand her. But when she talks in the middle of the night, she sounds like she’s eight or something.
As I came upstairs to do some writing, she was giggling like Beavis, a fairly common occurance nowadays. I thought we would sleep better if I moved her into our NICE QUIET room where there are “no giants” (her words). Truly I smoke the crack.
ok. i’m not sure if all this is adorable or disturbing , but it’s another reason i’m glad i don’t have little jimbo clones. i’m neurotic enough already.
Woah, yet more proof that all sorts of wonderful things develop earlier on the right side of the brain [for some of us lucky girls]. Don’t be too freaked out though. At her age I talked to dead people and sleepwalked with my eyes wide open while conversing loudly with them. Smoke tons of pot and drink wine by the box until you pass out cold every night. This seemed to do the trick for my freaked out parents. Stupid stinkin’ hippie poseurs. [laugh]
I once babysat for a 3 year old girl who, in her sleep, would get up, strip naked, put on shiny black patent leather maryjane shoes, come down the stairs, and do a little ballet dance. DEEPLY disturbing! The poltergeist thingies were just raring to get out of the TV in that house.
When they’re awake it’s even odder. I’ve read about kids with imaginary friends, how it’s all creative and normal and stuff, but no one seems to say how it’s CREEPY to have your kid stare past you into space and talk to someone else.
Man, my kid has never done anything like any of the above at all, and it’s all supposed to be normal. Hmmmmm, I always knew she was a freak.