Through the process of selective reporting I am choosing to remember this period of my life as 'the summer that Lucy learned to talk' rather than the bleakest days of my life. I am in a funk that would beat anything produced in the 70s. Fortunately the girls couldn't care less how miserable we are. They are happily carrying on with their lives. Here is Anna's pre-school graduation photo:
Yes, she rocked it. She stood up in front of the entire audience and gave her speech (why I will miss my school; because we play outside and have sleepovers and have fun with no shoes). They processed down to the garden stage to 'Land of Hope and Glory' and halfway down the music switched to The Beatles 'Revolution' and they all donned sunglasses and carried on walking, but with attitude. This already beats my all-latin graduation solemnity, hands-down.
We made a big deal of graduation, so instead of her usual 'watermelon kidz' shampoo I let her use mine, with conditioner. I then blew dry her hair and she looked so surprisingly groomed , so unlike her usual 'Grapes of Wrath' self that one of the other parents said 'Anna, your hair looks beautiful today' - to which she replied, hand on hip - 'Thanks, I used Dove'.
Did I tell you that Anna can read? No of course I didn't, I've preferred to shower you with news of financial devastation instead. Well, she's been reading for about a year which just proves that delinquent parenting can sometimes come up trumps. We didn't believe her teachers when they told us she was reading at 3. We knew she could sound out some words and certainly knew all her letters, but no, they assured us she was reading quietly to herself in the 'reading nook'. If only everything was this easy. She has been shy about reading in front of us but now just in time for Kindergarten she is going a mile a minute, ploughing through 'easy read' books and warning us that my friend's garden contains snakes (she had a 'cobra' security sign posted in her driveway).
Not to be out-done, Lucy is conquering 'the talkies' as LK calls it. She names everything, with about a 5% success rate. I think she just likes the novelty of making syllable sounds. Yesterday she came up to me, looked me full in the eye and shouted "NARTCH!" What do you say to that? Especially when it is then repeated as a question, complete with baleful look - "Nartch?"
She is at the wonderful stage where she has a lot of words but they all sound a little like 'oon' or 'arl' or 'grnk' and it is a little like trying to take care of a tiny Croat. She also says 'mo' for 'no' which is very funny when you hear her (approx. 100 times a day) yell "Anna Mo!" A la Def Leppard.
I tell you, it is a barrel of laughs over at our place. We can't afford to go outside or to splurge on anything but Top Ramen instead of Ramen, but we certainly know how to make our own fun!