Whimsy
It's been a while since I've caught up on the 3 yr old Whimsy's doings. I recorded many notes in the back of my planner her first and second year. Bad move, but it's what I had with me, and I'm not made of time. Someday I need to transcribe them all. So finally at least one 3 year entry.
Three years is interesting because she is trying to figure out how things work with incomplete or false information.
Case 1: She knows that the gymnastics center is always open when she is there. She knows that Paul owns the gym. So from the backseat I hear "They don't have beds at GK." No? I respond, puzzled. Her thoughts then tumble out. Mr. Paul owns the gym, when you own something you live there, they don't have beds, ergo, Mr. Paul must stay up really late. But that's OK because he's an adult. So we discussed the flaw in her argument--that you don't have to live in what you own.
Case 2: Mosquitos drink blood. Nana can't stand up (wheelchair) and looks a bit shrunken at 80 something. Her theory is that Nana somehow lost a lot of blood and that's why she is only half-full and can't stand up. Was it mosquitos? Could mosquitos do this to me? So we discussed bones, muscles, and what can go wrong with them. And mosquitos' general intake.
Case 3: During the recent tornado watch, I explain to her that a tornado is a big storm and we might need to go to the basement. So later, she eagerly warned me, "If you see a tomato, head straight to the basement." Of course this quip got repeated, and repeated, and she got annoyed. "Not a tomato, a temado." She knew perfectly well that she should have no fear of red vegetables, she just couldn't wrap her tongue around the word the first time she tried. What, mom, do you think I'm an idiot?
Three years is interesting because she is trying to figure out how things work with incomplete or false information.
Case 1: She knows that the gymnastics center is always open when she is there. She knows that Paul owns the gym. So from the backseat I hear "They don't have beds at GK." No? I respond, puzzled. Her thoughts then tumble out. Mr. Paul owns the gym, when you own something you live there, they don't have beds, ergo, Mr. Paul must stay up really late. But that's OK because he's an adult. So we discussed the flaw in her argument--that you don't have to live in what you own.
Case 2: Mosquitos drink blood. Nana can't stand up (wheelchair) and looks a bit shrunken at 80 something. Her theory is that Nana somehow lost a lot of blood and that's why she is only half-full and can't stand up. Was it mosquitos? Could mosquitos do this to me? So we discussed bones, muscles, and what can go wrong with them. And mosquitos' general intake.
Case 3: During the recent tornado watch, I explain to her that a tornado is a big storm and we might need to go to the basement. So later, she eagerly warned me, "If you see a tomato, head straight to the basement." Of course this quip got repeated, and repeated, and she got annoyed. "Not a tomato, a temado." She knew perfectly well that she should have no fear of red vegetables, she just couldn't wrap her tongue around the word the first time she tried. What, mom, do you think I'm an idiot?