Week 243: Time Out, Laptop, and George

Another week, another dozen new things that Mandy has done, approximately half of them cute and half of them “oh, geez, not this already.” For example, she has gotten quite into mimicry, particularly things that her sister does, but also things done to Sam. The other day Mandy picked up her doll, held it at arm’s length with a sour look on her face, marched it into the area of the kitchen where we usually make Sam take her time outs, and deposited it in the corner. She then stood back, crossed her arms and shouted “TIMEOUT! TIMEOUT!” Then, after a couple of heartbeats she picked the doll back up, hugged it to her cheek, and said “Why timeout? I love you!” I’ll just let you draw your own conclusions about how often this little one-act play gets performed with the regular cast instead of the understudies.

Mandy also continues to freak me out a little with how fast her verbal skills are developing, given that she’s still 3 months away from being two. Last night after work I sat down with her on the floor to say hello. “What did you do today?” I asked, off the cuff. I didn’t really expect her to answer, or maybe she’d reply with some typical non sequitur like “Dolly poo poo.” Instead, Mandy looked me in the face, paused for a second to let her cranial gears turn a few times, then said “I played at grandpa’s house today!”

Not only was this statement true, but it marked the first time I’d heard Mandy talk about something in the abstract –some event or activity not happening in front of her right then, but sunken several hours into the past. As I sat there blinking at her in surprise, she smiled proudly, the followed up by grabbing a stuffed bear and announcing, “Bear poo poo.” I guess that particular epilogue kind of evened things out, but I still love those kinds of unique moments.

Sam continues to do well, though she’s still prone to outbursts we think are related to losing her Grandma. In fact, we have pretty good reasons for thinking this. The other night Ger and I were sitting on the couch and I had my laptop open on my lap. Sam grew bored with playing on her own and asked me to close my computer and play with her. I complied, shutting the laptop lid, but before I could move it Sam grabbed it and lifted it off my legs.

Both Geralyn and I stopped breathing, too shocked to react. Touching Daddy’s electronics was a taboo that we thought we had pretty thoroughly drilled into both kids’ heads. If Sam had, say, lit a bottle of bleach on fire and started swinging it around on a chain, we would have immediately snapped at her and told her to quit it. But touching my camera or my laptop? That’s just unthinkable. I think Sam realized the line she had crossed after it was too late, but she still set the computer gingerly down on the coffee table before seeing the looks on our faces.

At this point, though, Sam just burst into tears. Half a second later Geralyn gathered her up into her arms and tried to shush her, but Sam wailed “Grandma died!” At that point we pretty much forgot about the computer.

Thankfully these kinds of outbursts seem to be trailing off, but just as Sam probably thought she was putting this whole death business behind her, we dropped another (though admittedly smaller) bomb on her last night. We hadn’t told Sam this, but a few days after Joan died, Geralyn’s godfather passed away shortly after being diagnosed with untreatable cancer. Sam had known her “Uncle George” by name, thanks to the pool parties he and his wife had invited us to over the years and the times we had invited them over to our own house. Last night at the dinner table Sam had, through a mouthful of meatloaf, said that “When Uncle George gets better, we can go to his house for a pool party!”

“Sammy,” Ger said, “Uncle George is in Heaven with Grandma.”

Sam stopped chewing her meatloaf and her expression, had it been worn by an adult, would have been one that you expected to preceded the words “Son of a BITCH!” Owing to her underdeveloped obscenity vocabulary, though, the best Sam could manage was “He died? Oh, DARN IT!” She frowned a minute after that, then scooped up some more mashed potatoes. So she seems to be doing okay.

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