A Day at the Mock

Hannah has now added two moves to her repetoire. First, we've taught her the "chicken dance" and it is a RIOT! We sing, to the chicken dance tune, "Clams, clams, clams, clams. Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings. Shake-your-butt, Shake-your-butt. Clap, clap, clap, clap!" By the time we've repeated this three times, the entire family has decided to take part and looks basically goofy. Tonight this was followed by the hokey pokey. I just sit and watch. Well, I sing, too and sometimes try to take pictures, if I can find my camera.

Second, Hannah has begun turning around and around, then says, "I'm BUSY!"

"You mean you're dizzy?"

"Yeah! Busy!" I can relate.

I'm glad to have these momentary lapses in general sanity in my household. It provides a break from the otherwise constant chatter of Hannah. I don't mind the chatter, except she no longer accepts my vague, "Is that right?" when I don't understand her. No. She repeats herself over, and over, and over...and OVER. If I don't crack the code in five attempts, I get the booby prize: meltdowns of differing calibers, depending on the day.

For example, yesterday I promised to take her to the park after her nap. She has never remembered my pre-nap promises. I could promise her Disneyland (if she knew what that was)...better yet, a trip to grandma's house. It wouldn't matter. Two hours and one complete nap later I'd be off the hook.

When she awoke, she came into the livingroom and we did our usual, "Hi Hannah! How's my girl? Did you have a good nap?"

"Yeah!"

"Are you hungry?" I ask.

"Pay mock," she replies.

I pause. This is a new one. "Some kind of milk?"

"No. Pay mock."

I try again. "You want a sock?"

Beginning to get exasperated, "Nooo. Paaaay Mmock!"

I have no idea. One more try. "You want to take a walk?" That's obviously not it, so I ask, "Can you show me pay mock?"

"No! Pay Mock!!!"

I'm thinking, "Yeah, repeat it one more time, kid. I didn't quite catch it." I've exhausted every vocabulary word of Hannah's and NOTHING is coming to mind. Pay mock is nearly doomed to permanent imprisonment in Hannah's mind when it dawns on me. "You want to play at the park!!!"

"Yeah! Pay mock! 'Mon Mom!"

THANK GOD!!! I took Hannah to the mock and all was well. I couldn't believe she remembered my pre-nap promise. Now I'll have to change tactics.

Can you imagine what that would be like, to have your words stuck in your mind, to be unable to express yourself? I would be placed in the local mental health facility, probably singing the chicken dance tune. Hannah's a real trooper.