Nana recently mentioned that she thought Napoleona had faded into the background a bit on this blog. She’s right — we’ve been so caught up in SillyBilly’s issues these days (including another round of asthma over the weekend, which we seem to have somewhat alleviated with doses of lobelia and the evil pink stuff).
So, I took the time to write down some of our conversations today, just so I could share them with my loyal readers. Some of whom are fairly new to this blog and might not have an entirely clear understanding of why we named her after a short but powerful emperor…
(We are picking up Napoleona at daycare. SillyBilly stayed home to recuperate from his cold. She is sitting on a bench by the coats and boots, eating a banana. She’s already dressed to go, and clearly hasn’t been awake long.)
Mama: Hello, sweetie–I see you’re all ready to go. Was that your last bite? OK, come on, I’ll carry your snow bibs and you can hold my other hand.
Napoleona: (Starting to cry and yell) I don’t want you to take my snow bibs home! I don’t want you to take my snow bibs! No Mama NO! (etc. etc., all the way to the car. The drive home distracts her, then when we’re getting out of the car, the sight of the bibs in my hand sets her off again. Then all becomes more clear when we get home.)
Napoleona: I’m hungry, can we have more snack?
Mama: Yes, here’s some leftover biscuit with cream cheese, and some blood orange. I’ll get you a glass of water.
Napoleona: (After eating all of her snack) I’m still hungry, could I have more please?
Mama: No, you had a banana, a biscuit and an orange. That’s enough until dinner.
Napoleona: Mama, I’m hungry! Give me more food! I’m still hungry! Waaaahhh!
(She doesn’t get more food. I hold her for a while, then we read a story together. When it’s done, she asks for more food. She doesn’t get any. Finally she decides she needs to comb my hair while I’m trying to do some work on the laptop, and peace is restored.)
* * * * * * *
Mama: Please don’t stand in your basket of toys.
Napoleona: That’s not a basket! (pointing to the cardboard box of trains she’s standing in)
Mama: (Breathe … breathe) Or box. Container of any kind.
* * * * * * *
Napoleona: (Holding up her fingers in an odd position) Mama, is this how you say “I love you” in sign language? (For some reason, I’ve been teaching them how to say this in various languages. So far we’ve done Ti Amo, Je t’aime, Ich liebe Dich, and sign.)
Mama: (Showing her each letter individually and then all together) I … love … you. I love you!
(lovely sentimental moment, lasting approximately 7.2 seconds)
Napoleona: (Running through the house) I love poopy poop! I love poopy poop! I love poopy poop!…
* * * * * * *
(We are folding laundry together. Napoleona specializes in folding table napkins and washcloths.)
Napoleona: Mama, you can buy one of my cloths if you want.
Mama: Oh, you have a cloth store! I have a clothes store. But I don’t have any money … could we trade instead?
Napoleona: (Unclear on the concept) No, I’ll give you some money!
Mama: But, I like to trade!
Napoleona: These are special cloths my friends gave me. I can’t trade them.
Mama: So, you’ll sell them for money, but you won’t trade for them? (Mama’s cringing at the thought of all her role modeling of using cooperative forms of commerce such as BookMooch or Freecycle going completely to waste. It’s clearly all about the shiny coins.)
(Napoleona goes into a long, convoluted answer, during which Mama resumes her folding and, to be honest, tunes out a little. Then something catches my ear.)
Napoleona: In my store I have candies, jewels, pony bridles, little cheeses, forks, knives, and spoons in my cash register. And at the very front of the store I have purple napkins!! (This gives you a little idea of what appeals to her: sparkly things, food, and some plain lavender cotton napkins that she has decided are the “special” ones. For her, these would clearly be the impulse buys at the front of the store.)