new and interesting ways to make my head explode

She's reading. A lot. Big and involved words. Thinking all.the.time. She's constantly asking me what words mean. It's been great for me to try to get concepts like satisfied across. My brain is creaky but enjoying this new level of interaction.


She recently made up a word. I believe it's spelled O-Z-U-L-E-E-N-E-R-S. She would NO DOUBT correct me. The only challenge is that it's now on the list of "What does that mean?" and how in the hell am I supposed to answer that?

I made up a definition after being asked 4,117 times since breakfast "What does 'ozuleeners' mean?".

me: It means to scrub.

rio: Actually,that's not even close.

me: Well then, what does it mean?

rio: How should I know? That's why I asked you!

sedate ... or boring?

I'm sure you missed it but, this blog was hott pink for a minute. Oh, with little funny scrawly drawings.

So. Yeah. Tomorrow is the Tea Party at Rio's school. I'd better get to bed so I'm not the scary looking mom.


huh. too much pink, methinks

Playing around with a lot of things.



Returning to blogging.


Before I had a kid, I had no way to mark time. She firmly believes she's the center of the known Universe and that everything that happens involves her *somehow*. Every thing that I tell her about triggers the question, "How old was I?" and it is at once endearing, and maddening.

But I look at her now. She has a huge vocabulary. She has her own style of dress and I happen to believe she's channeling the lost spirit of Liberace most of the time. She's better in heels than I. She's better at math than I. She's says 'Go-ed' for 'went' and it's the only time of the day I get to feel smug.

She's 4 years, 10 months, and 9 days old. That's when my life really began.