I figure since no one comments, no one reads, and then people ask me (read: accuse me)WHY HAVEN'T YOU BLOGGED LATELY? So, here ya go. Are you out there? Bueller? Bueller? Throw a girl a bone. Show me some love. Pour some sugar on me. Uh, or just comment. Yeah, comment.
I've had some debates and discussions recently about whether or not kids Elliott's age (17ish months) have much in the way of memory. On the one hand, it doesn't seem like even fairly memorable events are fleeting. Take, for example, this Valentine's Day altercation with Java:
Bloody bite on his hand and not five minutes later, Elliott was shrieking "VAH-vuh," and trying to tree her on the couch. No short-term memory. None.
In a way, that was a comforting thought. I try to be The World's Best Mother 24/7, but I have my slips...the extra 15 minutes he spends sitting in a poopy diaper while I finish something, the fact that he eats a turkey and cheese sandwich for lunch six days out of seven because I just can't muster up the energy to be more creative (or to scrape it off the kitchen cabinets if he doesn't like it). It's okay, I tell myself. He won't remember.
Wrong-o.
Yesterday, the three of us were sitting around the dinner table and talking about what we'd done that day. Here's Elliott's contribution:
"Dada."
"Boop-boop."
"OFF! OFF!" [Said while touching his nose]
"Um, Nieka, is the sleep deprivation getting to you?" you might ask. Not at all. Here's what Elliott told us:
"Dada came home."
"He honked the car's horn for me."
"Then he rescued The Nose Book that had fallen off the windowsill and was stuck behind the couch."
The boy's got a memory. Three separate events, told in order, at least a half hour after they'd occurred.
Let a whole new level of anxiety commence!
Nieka
i'll comment. you don't know who in the heck i am & i don't know how in the heck i first got here, but here i am none the less. ;-) that is quite an adorable little guy you have there & that's a very appropriate shirt he's wearing. =)
Posted by: Dawn | March 12, 2006 at 08:09 PM