"Here's your apple juice, sweetie." She looks intently at the contents of her sippy cup.
"Is that a black thing in there?" Her little nose scrunching with distaste.
"No. What are you talking about?"
"I think I see a black thing. I don't want this."
Or
"I don't want this chicken, mom."
"Why?" My question infused with my signature sigh.
"There's black things all over it." She starts pushing her plate away and then panicking, "Take it away. TAKE IT AWAY!"
So I look and see that the "black things" she's referring to are actually the chargrilled part of the chicken. So I take the pieces of chicken and I systematically and thoroughly remove each and every "black thing" from them. Nobody can ever tell me I'm not a good mother. I removed "black things" from chicken. I am
A few weeks ago - I am bathing her and suddenly, like out of nowhere, she emits this blood curdling scream from her obviously healthy, baby pink lungs. I'm like, "Honey are you in pain? What's wrong? Oh my god, sweet Jesus, what is wrong?" She's standing up now desperately trying to get out of the tub, buck naked and wet, shampoo in hair, wiggling like a sea snake, screaming, screaming. It was downright fucking terrifying. Finally she says, through frantic tears, "There's, there's, there's.... a "black thing" in there". Black thing. BLACK THING. This is coming from a child who literally took a wet dump in the bathtub and refused to come out because she wasn't done "playing". She was completely fine with playing in a tub of feces. But a "black thing"? No fucking way. I searched the tub after I calmed her down and I indeed found the source of her complete and utter despair. It was a tiny rock. My girl is whacked.
I don't know when or where this fear of "black things" took root. Some early trauma that I was too self-involved to notice was even occurring perhaps. But I'll you what. I am planning on using this bizarre phobia to my advantage. The next time she misbehaves, I'm going to put a shitload of pepper on her mashed potatoes. And breakfast? Lemon poppy seed mini-muffins. That'll learn her not to defy her
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ReplyDeleteI sympathize!
ReplyDeleteMy daughter (now 19) did the same thing when she was little, only hers weren't black things it was hairs. She'd see a tiny hair floating in the bathtub water and have a toddler-sized panic attack.
She did eventually grow out of it, though. :)
I have no idea what to tell you. When I was little I was afraid of sharks. I also didn't know that they lived in the water, and in my head they were just roaming around outside, getting ready to eat the crap out of me.
ReplyDeleteOh Gwen this made me laugh. With my almost five year old(when she was threeish) it was all about spiders. Ever piece of sweater lint or cat dandruff was a spider. Mom-my, spider!!! I was always checking out these "spiders" and always showing her it was nothing but a piece of plastic off a toy or fuzz or whatever. One day a year or so back I was blogging and she was all like mom, there's a spider eek! and I said that's a daddy job and daddy's not here so you're going to have to take care of it yourself or go play somewhere else(heartless I know)sure a fuckin nuf she comes back with a kleenex holding a giant smushed juicy spider and she is beaming, I got it, I got it. I was all like wow you are so brave cause I would have closed the door on that one and hidden until my husband got home. She's not afraid of them anymore.
ReplyDeleteIt's good to know my kid isn't that much of a freak. She's my first, and before her I never spent that much time with kids or babies. So this whole experience tends to fascinate and bewilder me. The idea of sharks just being everywhere is fucking hilarious. And about the spider? I can't kill them. I'm superstitious about killing them. I think it's because of Charlotte's Web and maybe also because they are evil. Your daughter is super brave. Musings - I'm like your daughter was, I hated little hairs, but I never grew out of it. They still creep me out. So maybe my daughter just takes after me. That's a scary thought.
ReplyDeleteFor me it's snakes. Which usually turn out to be sticks. Maybe I'm actually afraid of wood.
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ReplyDeleteI guess I can be afraid of wood, too - It really depends on what kind of wood we're talking about and who it may or may not be attached to ;)
ReplyDeleteThat's hilarious. My older daughter went through a panic stage of things floating in the tub. I became obsessed with making sure her tub water was pure and filtered. Or at least that's what I said.
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