I've been concerned about La Nina Loca's social and intellectual development. You know, you worry about what your children might struggle with later on and wonder how you could help them before they cross those bridges. We've already established that I WISH I could be the mom who lies on the couch smokin' ciggs, drinkin' and watchin' Jerry Springer, but I'm not. The specific things I was concerned about:
1. La Nina cannot write her full name, but more importantly has no DESIRE to learn.
2. La Nina seemed to play only with boys whom she calls her boyfriends and says she will marry one day.
3. La Nina has days (very few) where she won't listen to her teacher. I get this Rock Star treatment from her most days, but she usually tows the line at school.
So, tonight I decided we'd do a little cooking therapy. La Nina loves to help cook, bake, and wash dishes. (What a freak!) While we were in the middle of it all, I began my baited questions. The conversation went roughly as follows:
Me: So, who have you been playing with lately?
Her: J-----. (boy)
Me: Who else?
Her: (a few more "boyfriend" names)
Me: What about B------? Did you play with her?
Her: Nope.
Me: Your teacher said you did, today.
Her: Well, she chased me around if that's what you mean.
Me: (mouth open) Oh, I thought you two were friends.
Her: We are. It was a chase game. (closed mouth).
Her: I like you.
Me: Thanks, angel, I like you too.
Her: You're the best Mommy ever!
Me: Aww, thanks button. You're my fave ____year old too!
Her: B-----and I had a ba'scussion about pee and poop.
Me: EWWWW. That is nothing to be talkin about, miss maam.
Her: (giggle) uh, huh. Poopy Pants. Me and A---just said that. (laughter)
Me: (NO laughing). Nope, not acceptable at all. Do you need some soap? Huh, some soap for that nasty mouth? I'll do it, you know. Ask your brothers.
Her: (more giggling, not threatened) I love brother.
Me: Why do you love brother?
Her: He always plays games with me.
Me: Yep, you're a lucky girl, huh?
Her: I like Daddy. He's the best daddy in the world.
Me: That's sweet. I like Daddy too.
Her: He's not YOUR Daddy.
Me: True. (sigh--she's one step ahead of me, always)
Her: Sometimes he makes me mad, though.
Me: Yeah? How?
Her: When he tells me to do t'ings I don't wanna do.
Me: What about me? Do you get mad at me?
Her: Yep. You doos that too.
Me: Hey, let's practice your name while we cook.
This goes well for a minute. Stirring and spelling.
Me: How about later we try writing your name too?
Her: Nope.
Me: Why not?
Her: A'cuze.
I stopped here. I had established that she does play with girls but likes the boys better. I figured out that she loves her family even though we boss her. She can spell her name but chooses not to write it. I'll sleep tonight but can't guarrantee the future!
