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CottonCandyONaRainyDay: NNNOOO; NO!; Noooooooo!

CottonCandyONaRainyDay

CottonCandyONaRainyDay is my new mommy journal. A brag book all about my beloved daughter!

Monday, July 09, 2007

NNNOOO; NO!; Noooooooo!



Pook has a variety of ways to say no. I despise them all. It seems like two is coming around faster than expected, I've collected a day full of NOOOO!'s to prove it.

I ask Pook any question and the reply is the same, No. Usually she is so demanding when she says it. It bugs me out a lot. It came over night. I was not prepared to be invaded by multiple NOOOONNOOO No no's.

But they are here, more abundant than the cicadas Pook can not forget. Because we are from the midwest after all, my only joy in this moment is to reply to Pook's no, with "say no thank you." Pook says no, followed by no thank you. I smile.

Saying no is good though I think. sometimes. I need to say no more. Although it did pass my mind to sit Pook in time out for telling me no- something my old skool relatives would insist is unacceptable child behavior. But I decide it is not good to punish her for saying no. Maybe we should celebrate it. sometimes. Like today after the two hundreth no, I said Nooooooooooooo! just like Pook and tickled her down to the ground. We laughed.

Partner to the No! is Pook's signature freak out moments. Pook has the ability to freak out for no reason known to those over two. Of course Pook freaks out when she is sleepy, hungry, or wet- this is to be expected. I'm talking about the freak out Pook performs after a good meal, nap, and diaper change.

Take Sunday for example. We were on a picnic with my friend Candy at the park. It was a great time, I brought the fried chicken of course. We had corn, potato salad, fruit, lots to drink, so it was all fun, for a minute. Pook was well rested after her afternoon nap, and was excited to be at the park. Before we eat, Pook goes down the slide a couple of times. Oh I will attach a picture of Pook at the park to show you- thank goodness Candy brought her camera, takes good pictures, and sends them to me quickly. Anyhow the slide for Pook was delightful signaled by excited "mama" calls, giggles, and arms thrown in the air. My fearless daughter goes down the slide all by her self you should know. After the slide mama is hungry so we take a break to eat, talk, and enjoy the evening shade. After dinner and resting a bit, Pook wants to go back to the park. This time she is interested in swinging.

I sit Pook in the swing and start to push her. That is when she started freaking out. In spite of being the mommy- I am clueless. Pook loves to swing. Pook has been to this park a million times. Pook has swung in this swing frequently yet she is in complete freak out mode. Her particular style of freak out consists of loud crying, tears, kicking, and snot running from one nostril. She's perfected it. Because I'm learning that this is just part of who Pook is, I let her be. I don't even try to do anything but talk to her sweetly and say "relax." (I say "relax" often to Pook's tenacious virgo tendencies. Or maybe to remind my capricornian cusped self). I playfully suggest to Candy- it must have been that fateful moment when I indulged in soft cheeses (yeah right) while she was still in the womb. Then I try and pick Pook up and of course her rage becomes more outrageous. I look at Candy and apologize. Not so much that Pook is freaking out and its really loud. But I apologize because I know it sounds louder and looks worse to someone who is unfamiliar with the unpredible Pook freak outs. I look at Pook in full angst and I know she is her mother's daughter. Doth we protest too much? Nunca.



This freak out occurs for a good 15 minutes during which I take Pook out of the swing, change her diaper, and hold her. Pook mid crying spell, says "milk" - her favorite soy comfort. Its too hot for milk I tell her, which only makes her cry louder. (Does soy sour in the sun?) Pook reaches for Candy's gatorade and because of the freak out I let her drink it, sugar fructose and all. Pook drinks for a very long time. Ahhh she was thirsty Candy says. But I'm not convinced. I've seen Pook freak out for no apparently good reason many times since she's been born. Thirsty or not thirsty. Again, I ask Pook if she is okay. This time she replies with a magical yes. Wow. It's over. For the rest of the evening Candy's one dollar spray bottle filled with water occupies Pook into happy toddler oblivion.

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