A lot has been going on around here that is very stressful, and I mean more than just the general pandemic stress and I don't particularly want to get into it. At this point I have not managed to get to the post office for multiple months and my email is a terrifying morass.
However, I continue to be delighted by the fact that we are raising a very determined, mostly perky tiny goth.
Seriously, it is wired in. I'm a horror fan, but not the way Fox is. Earlier in the week he asked for a large cardboard box to be put on his bed, and Ruth tore down one of the sides of it so he fits in it full-length, and now he sleeps in it and calls it his coffin. I don't know where he got that one, and I wasn't expecting the sleeping-in-a-cardboard-coffin phase until about middle school.
This led indirectly to one of the times Fox has cracked me up the most thoroughly. I have a giant Snorlax plushie, the size of a beanbag chair and marketed as one, and Fox enjoys jumping off of the parent bed, which is the big one, onto the Snorlax. However, just jumping was apparently not interesting enough. Fox has been taught some basic yoga-for-preschoolers-- the way they teach the preschoolers yoga is to teach a pose, and then, because not all the children are old enough to count, they teach them a short sentence to say while they hold the pose, to establish the timing. Usually these sentences are New Age-y affirmations. Not what I'd have picked, but generally inoffensive.
So Fox started doing yoga directly on the edge of the bed, so that he would either balance successfully in a pose for the length of the affirmation, or fall off onto the Snorlax. Either was fine with him.
What this meant one hears from lying down several feet away:
"I am kiiIIIINNd*thump*!"
"I am graaaACEFUUlll*thump*!"
"I am thankful for the trEEEEEEeess... whew!"
This was funny enough, honestly. He has had several sessions of this over multiple days, and it consistently reduces me to cry-laughing.
However, then he decided the pre-provided affirmations were also kind of not that interesting, and has swapped them out for things that contain his legitimate interests.
So I spent a chunk of the afternoon listening to:
"I am thankful for slEEEEPing in my COOOFFFFiin*thump*!"
"I am thankful for vaaAMMPIRES*thump*!"
"I love muUUUMIIESS and also MOOOOOM... whew!" (I think Mom comes in there because Ruth and I have made the mummy pun repeatedly; I'm Dad, but there isn't a horror trope or monster that sounds much like that, so I haven't appeared in the affirmations.)
Frankly I am still giggling, under my breath. What a good baby goth.
However, I continue to be delighted by the fact that we are raising a very determined, mostly perky tiny goth.
Seriously, it is wired in. I'm a horror fan, but not the way Fox is. Earlier in the week he asked for a large cardboard box to be put on his bed, and Ruth tore down one of the sides of it so he fits in it full-length, and now he sleeps in it and calls it his coffin. I don't know where he got that one, and I wasn't expecting the sleeping-in-a-cardboard-coffin phase until about middle school.
This led indirectly to one of the times Fox has cracked me up the most thoroughly. I have a giant Snorlax plushie, the size of a beanbag chair and marketed as one, and Fox enjoys jumping off of the parent bed, which is the big one, onto the Snorlax. However, just jumping was apparently not interesting enough. Fox has been taught some basic yoga-for-preschoolers-- the way they teach the preschoolers yoga is to teach a pose, and then, because not all the children are old enough to count, they teach them a short sentence to say while they hold the pose, to establish the timing. Usually these sentences are New Age-y affirmations. Not what I'd have picked, but generally inoffensive.
So Fox started doing yoga directly on the edge of the bed, so that he would either balance successfully in a pose for the length of the affirmation, or fall off onto the Snorlax. Either was fine with him.
What this meant one hears from lying down several feet away:
"I am kiiIIIINNd*thump*!"
"I am graaaACEFUUlll*thump*!"
"I am thankful for the trEEEEEEeess... whew!"
This was funny enough, honestly. He has had several sessions of this over multiple days, and it consistently reduces me to cry-laughing.
However, then he decided the pre-provided affirmations were also kind of not that interesting, and has swapped them out for things that contain his legitimate interests.
So I spent a chunk of the afternoon listening to:
"I am thankful for slEEEEPing in my COOOFFFFiin*thump*!"
"I am thankful for vaaAMMPIRES*thump*!"
"I love muUUUMIIESS and also MOOOOOM... whew!" (I think Mom comes in there because Ruth and I have made the mummy pun repeatedly; I'm Dad, but there isn't a horror trope or monster that sounds much like that, so I haven't appeared in the affirmations.)
Frankly I am still giggling, under my breath. What a good baby goth.
no subject
Date: 2021-03-11 03:48 am (UTC)But you're the Walking Dad. Haven't you run that one by him?
A few days ago, he told me "A hand is a ghost upside down; a ghost is a hand upside down."
Nine
no subject
Date: 2021-03-11 04:06 am (UTC)That sounds like your line of reflections touching. Pools in the river and the river calls him. (I'm sure he would call back, affirmatively.)
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Date: 2021-03-11 04:41 am (UTC)It was a startling synchronicity, but all his own idea. He has the makings of a poet.
Nine
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Date: 2021-03-11 04:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2021-03-11 05:02 am (UTC)This is, honestly, amazing. What a good baby goth, indeed!
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Date: 2021-03-13 05:49 am (UTC)It really is amazing how much of this is wired in from a very young age! Kit LOVES anything spooky, and Halloween lasts all autumn here. They get a little scared watching Hilda but they watch it anyway. Their favorite book is about a boy who invites monsters to tea, because tea with just his aunt is nice and he doesn't like nice things, he likes HORRIBLE things. Maybe sleeping in a coffin would help with their anxiety about being in bed alone...
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Date: 2021-03-15 07:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2021-03-16 03:32 am (UTC)