Lately Son has developed the maddening and absurd habit to say alternatively "yes" and "no" to things. It drives both me and the Diplomat mad, while it does not seem to strike Son as odd. It goes something like this:
Son: I wanna mango juice!!!! (irritated look and whiny voice)
Me: Here it is! (pulls it out of the fridge with a wide smile, happy to oblige)
Son: Nooooooooo (rolls on the floor)
Me: Fine (puts juice back, trying to look calm and superior)
Son: Wanna juice!
Me: Here (takes juice out, tries not to strangle Son)
Son: NOOOOOOO (rolling and stomping)
Me: Fine, I don't care (puts juice away, walks away in a huff pretending to be composed)
Son: I wanna mango! I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango! (rolls around the ENTIRE apartment)
Me: Lalalalalala, what a nice day, lalalaaaaaaa.....(looks up towards the ceiling and tries to study Bangla nonchalantly)
Son: I wanna mango! I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango!I wanna mango!
Me: (Wonders what life in a cave, alone, feels like...)
Son: I wanna mango, I wann.....(very quietly) mama, I peed myself.
Me: Of course you did, with all that screaming (gets up with a sigh and head full of cave dreams).
Son does this nowadays all the time, with everything. He does it mostly when he is mopey or in a bad mood, but sometimes for no reason at all. Please, tell me it is stage and it will pass away as of next week because it takes a whole lot of diplomatic resolve not to toss a mango juice bottle in his direction in moments like that.
Today has also been a day of some peculiar occurrences. For starters, the Diplomat cooked dinner. Well, to be correct, he took a pre-marinaded chicken from Trader Joes and fried it for at least 10 minutes, but at least it was him, not me! Then, after dinner, I took the happy, content, full child to run in the lobby of our building while I check the mail and chat with the doorman/woman. These little 10-min excursions are our little tradition, during which Son thinks that I generously invite him to assist me with the junk mail, which he laboriously and diligently throws in the recycling bin. The truth is that I take him out to help with dinner digestion and to expend any residual energy from the day since he proceeds to run like mad for 10 minutes in circles around the lobby. As he was running tonight, and I was conversing coherently with him in high literary Bulgarian, a man standing there turned to me, and asked me whether I was speaking Bulgarian. I was and I asked him whether he was from there as well. He told me that he had spent there a number of years as an economic consultant for the EU and in fact had a 3-year old daughter there, whom he visits 4-5 times a year. It all sounded so surreal.
I have now sighed up for the A-100 160th class gmail group, sponsored by the welcome committee from the 158th FSI class. The group serves to answer questions from and share the excitement of my eager and anxious future colleagues. Since I have been part of FSI since September as a spouse (or an EFM, an Eligible Family Member, as the DoS colorfully calls us), it has been somewhat odd to try to think of myself as part of a class of my own! To an extent, I feel a bit robbed of the experience--for example, I will not have the thrill of my own Flag Day. Then again, given some of the post choices, I will gladly give up that thrill...And so I have decided to make up for it all by attending every single happy hour out there! And there are A LOT!
I think his NOs will pass through when he completes three years and when u touch down Dhaka. He will have a lot of excitement looking at multimodal transport system, bengali food smell and singing rabindra sangeet; with u full time at your diplomatic seat u may not even notice his NOs !!
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ReplyDeleteamma said
ReplyDeleteRam behaved in similar way.he used to cry for no reason"oovay oovay".he was called oovay ram by my neibhours.Son is much better.so dont have to worry.i feel he cries for attention.
DipMama,
ReplyDeleteThe B Files and I are organizing a DC-area FS blogger potluck on 2/26. Please email me or check out my husband Paul's blog for details.
Paul Benjamin: Writer, Editor, Supermodel
Your munchkin can hang out with mine in Dhaka- they can yes/no each other until the rickshaws turn in for the night. I just experienced a full length feature yes/no night complete with two temper tandrums!
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