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  • Taking it Silly and Slow

     

    As you may have picked up if you've been reading this blog for awhile, I am a very silly person. Or, perhaps more accurately, I have an intensely silly side which balances out my incredibly serious and sophisticated side (cough cough).

     

    So I am therefore quite psyched that my gals are now entering the age of prime verbal silliness -- you know, when you crack up over words like "underpants" and (my personal favorite) "poop" and where nonsensical utterances like "you're a waffle head!" win big, gleeful giggles. (Just a few months ago, this kind of thing was more likely to get a solemn disputation: "No I'm not, I'm just Clio.")

     

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  • I like these guys. They're funny guys!

    First person to get the title reference gets a big, virtual high-five. (No Googling allowed!)

     

    In this post, however, I'm referring to Elsa and Clio, who -- as I was reminded yesterday -- are two very funny little girls. Exasperating at times, yes. But also extremely entertaining. Clio seems to actively try to be silly, with funny faces and noises and goofy antics. Her humor tends toward the absurdist. Last night at dinner, for example, she decided it was very funny to pretend she was asleep. 

     

     

     

     

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  • Laughter is not the best discipline

    As I've noted on previous occasions, Clio is a silly baby. From the very beginning, she's made us laugh. Something about her expressions, her mannerisms, her overall demeanor is just...silly. She loves to giggle, particularly when broad, physical humor is involved. And she's prone to doing random, silly things, like tilting her head from side to side and saying "blah blah blah blah blah" (my best guess is that this is an imitation of me) or spontaneously going into a perfect downward dog. We never taught her this; she just does it. And with such excellent form!

     

     

    The latest twist on Clio's silliness, however, is not so innocent. It turns out she finds it very, very funny when I say "no" to her. And she finds it downright hilarious to test limits. Por ejemplo: there is a floor lamp in our living room that she likes to grab onto and shake. It's got a pretty sturdy, weighted base, so I don't think she's likely to topple the thing, but still. This is not behavior I want to encourage. So I firmly tell her, "No no, Clio, please don't touch, I don't want the lamp to fall and hurt you, etc. etc." And Clio finds this very funny. She takes her hands off the lamp, smiles, and then holds on again, waiting for my reaction. So I say "no" again. She laughs. I say no some more, and finally she lets go. Then she tries just touching the lamp with one finger, grinning and twinkly-eyed, to see what I'll do.

     

    And my friends, I can't help it: I simply cannot keep a straight face. I try so hard, but eventually I break down. I just can't look at her (That smile! And one finger! That's sophisticated humor!) and not laugh or smile. And I know that this is not helping her learn that when mama says no, mama means it. Granted, I don't think I'd have a hard time staying stern if she was, say, putting her finger into an electrical outlet. But I'd like her to respect my "no's" in general, whether she's in mortal danger or just doing mischevious stuff like throwing her food on the floor or shaking lamps.

     

    What should I do? Should I ignore her when she tests limits? Not look at her when I say my no's? Or do I just need to work harder on my poker face? I will admit that there's also this (weak. weak!) part of me that does't want to show anger or displeasure with her, lest she think that it's not all right to be silly and playful sometimes. I mean, I'm guessing it's pretty tough for a toddler to try to sort out why some things are OK and some things aren't. Why is it all right to stand up in the crib, but not in the bathtub? Why is it OK to throw a ball, but not a cup? It's my job to teach her these things, and hopefully to get her to realize when mama means business. But I suspect it's not going to work too well if I'm giggling the whole time.

     

    Who among us is not powerless in the face of a baby with good comic timing? Help!

     

     


  • How not to cut your baby's hair

    Yesterday we decided it was high time the girls had a haircut. The front part of Elsa's hair was over her eyes, and Clio's mohawk was just getting to be too over-the-top. So, we put them in their highchairs, found our sharpest pair of scissors (not very sharp) and I went to work. I'll spare you the suspense: I did a terrible job.

     

    Of course, it's not the easiest thing in the world to cut a baby's hair. They don't like having things done to them -- whether it's having squash washed off their faces or diapers changed or protruding boogers extracted from their little noses. There's a lot of wriggling and yelling and crying. And when a sharp object is involved, it's doubly stressful for everyone.

     

     

     

    My mother -- who, God bless her, cut my hair at home until I was in college, and still cuts my father's hair today --  told me I should just lift their forelocks up between my fingers and snip. This, she said, would give it a natural, layered look, instead of having it be all one length. Well, I am not nearly as skilled as my mother. Or my babies weren't nearly as patient as I was as a baby. Because what I ended up with was more like a natural, deranged scarecrow look. Totally uneven and spikey. I tried to do some evening out afterwards, but inevetably, it just led to the hair getting shorter and more uneven until...well, you can see for yourselves.

     

     

     


    The good news is, babies -- being babies -- are so damned cute that even a bad haircut isn't so bad. And it'll grow, right? I'm looking forward to when their hair is long enough that I can actually brush it and put it in barettes and braids and pigtails and things. That, I think, I'll be able to handle. But the cutting...eep! Next time maybe we'll suck it up and take them to one of those fancy barbers who specializes in kids' hair. Unless, of course, anyone has some good baby haircutting advice. (Hint, hint)

     

    Anyway, I tried to get some shots today of both girls together, sporting their new haircuts, but that didn't go too well either. First they got all gangsta on me:

     

     

    Then they just got silly.

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Obviously, they don't seem to mind their bad haircuts. So it's hard for me to mind too much, either. Still: sorry, gals!

     

     



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About the Blogger

Jane Roper

Jane Roper in Boston

One baby? Piece of cake. Try two. This working mother gives you the inside scoop on the ultimate in extreme parenting: twins.

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