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Homeward GINGIEEEEE! Loch = The Troll My Brother Nate Chibba Language Various & Sordid |
02.2001
Disclaimer: Since this is meant to be a personal journal of our days, some information may crop up from time to time about certain persons outside of the immediate family. I will only post information that I deem to be public knowledge...stuff that's "out there". I am also very likely to post opinions...maybe this is a little inflamatory to some. Count yourself forewarned. Don't email me all ticked off, OK? Loch is picking up words right and left now. FINALLY. He will repeat, or try to repeat just about anything that you say to him. This morning he learned "boobie". I told Barry that we're (meaning Barry) really going to have to start watching what we say. "Boobie" is OK in my book for a two year old, but "peter" and "shit" are not. We say, who is mama? He points to me. We say, who is daddy? He points to Barry. We say, who is Chibba? And he says, "kitty"? I think he's getting the hang of it all. Loch is also coming full circle as far as his affection for me goes. He's wanting his real mommy now. Some news to report on the Georgia Natural Gas sitch... Our current bill came a couple of weeks ago... grand total of $13.62. Let us all bow down to the magestic bitch that is GINGIE!... I was credited $108.00 for the overcharge, I got the rate that I was promised and the PSC ordered GNG to give me a $14.00 credit for my troubles. WAAA! I've been taking some pseudo-psychedelic pain reliever because Tylenol is too wussy for this pain. I'm too wussy, I guess. Look mommy, I'm flying! It's been over three weeks since I last reported in, and there is no use in trying to log what I have done in that time. I will say that mostly I have been mucking about in my own sinusy nightmare, looking like a cross between a rat lost in a maze and a possum caught in the beam of a light. HISSSSS...Purdy! Loch hates me. He won't let me hold him, and he only wants his daddy. Whom he calls mama. Yes, he calls Barry mama. Just call ME chopped liver. He will give me kisses occasionally, but it is usually when his nose is drippy. Which is why I am probably so sick all the time. Thanks, son. I shouldn't take it personally, I guess. Granted, everything in Loch's world fits neatly into 8 little categories:
I am very proud of Loch, though, because he is finally picking up more words... He knows his body parts like eyes, ears, nose, chin, mouth. He also does the motions when you sing songs like "The Wheels on the Bus". (You mommies & daddies know what I'm talking about.) He even tries to sing along. On "Old McDonald" he says "E-I!!!" Except we sing an extra verse: "on this farm he had a Loch... with a WAAA WAAA here". Loch hasn't learned that verse in daycare, yet he knows it VERY well. I am glad that he is getting so much attention in daycare. I feel he really benefits from being around other children. And I don't care what anyone says about keeping them at home - he is better off for getting this socialization. Loch is really growing up all of the sudden. He's "mannish", as my Granny says. He sits on his potty and pretends to pee-pee and wants some toilet paper to drop into it. He gets up after his night-night bottle, waves goodnight and walks to his bed. He says "UH-OH!" when he drops his food on the floor and then goes about picking it up. He "blows" his nose and then throws the paper in the trash. This last example has its drawbacks - he finished his raisins the other day and promptly threw the cup into the trashcan. Something else he has learned from daycare - the evil that is called TIMEOUT. We have never said Timeout at home, but one day I tried it... "Loch, do you want to go to Timeout?" His answer was a vehement shake of the head. Obviously, Young Mr. Marler is very familiar with Timeout. Now we say that all the time, and he really does straighten up when he's taunted with that question. This past Saturday, I came out of my sinus fog long enough for the Marler troop to skip over to the Commerce outlet malls. We made a real day of it, and had a good time. We ate lunch at Sonny's BBQ, and ordered Loch his own plate of food off of the kiddie menu. He got a BBQ sandwich and a good-sized order of fries. He ate it ALL, then some of MY fries. This big meal might have been the reason that he was so good for so long. He only pulled one tag off of an sweater (which he shredded into a dozen pieces), and only put his feet up on five or six racks of clothes, so how can I complain? Lastly, our trip was only about 30 minutes too long, because he went ballistic in the car on the way home. I'm not asking for miracles, though, so I appreciate what we were given that day. One last little story to tell... This one is pure Troll. On a weekend since my last entry, we all stopped by Publix to pick up a few items for dinner. Our new thing is to let Loch walk in stores rather than push/carry him. (I will NOT be one of these mommies pushing a seven year old around in a cart. No thank you.) He seems to be happier and more re/interactive when he is allowed to walk. Anyway, I am sure everyone has seen those Brach's candy kiosks at the grocery store - you pick out your different candies and put them in the bag, etc. Well, we passed one on our way to the checkout, and didn't think anything about it. At the checkout, I looked down and there was a piece of half-eaten candy on the floor. Some other troll had dropped it out of his mouth and his mom wouldn't let retrieve it. Well, I saw my Troll going for it. I said, "Don't even think about it!" (Some dude laughed as he walked by.) Barry grabbed Loch's hand and pulled him away. Then I freaked. How could Loch possibly think about eating that candy when he already had a piece of something in his mouth??? I told Barry, and he started trying to pry the Trolls (loch)jaw open. According to Barry, this was quite the struggle, and he showed me the bite marks to prove it. What he eventually fished out of the Troll's mouth was a fully wrapped piece of caramel candy that had been swiped off of the Brach's kiosk as we had passed it minutes before. I almost peed my pants laughing. My child is now not only a goat, but a shoplifter as well. Toodles! |
