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Posts Tagged ‘Chloe’

Most people with children have funny anecdotes to share about things their kids have said or done, and as a mother of two interesting little girls, I’m also guilty as charged in that respect.

The thing is, I’m a terrible storyteller, so usually the good part of  whatever anecdote I happen to be relating,  is lost in translation, creating one of those “I guess you had to be there” moments.

Chloe, my youngest daughter, can be classified as a “special needs” kid. I’ve always thought of that term as generic, but for all intents and purposes, the “special needs” label is easier than explaining her exact condition. Her “special needs” have caused her to be delayed in various areas of development, namely speech, but over the last year and half, she has really blossomed, and her speech has improved significantly.

Which brings me back to my lame storytelling skills. Chloe is really funny. As she’s learned to speak, she’s added tons of words to her vocabulary.  English is a tricky language to learn, and mastery of it, well, let’s be honest, there aren’t too many of us who can claim to be true”masters.” Chloe has a pretty decent vocabulary, and she’s able to pick up new words fairly quickly. She mostly uses them in their correct context too…mostly, but sometimes, I catch her saying things that are worthy of a chuckle or two.

A few of my favorite Chloe-isms:

1. “We have naaa to do.” ~ Translation: We have nothing to do.  Okay, that one’s pretty tame, and really uh, I guess you had to be there, but since she first started saying it, she learned how to say the word “nothing” which made me kinda sad, so I still ask her to say “naaa” instead. She does not comply with my request. I’m a kook, I know.

2. “That’s my peep-hole.” ~ Probably no translation needed there, but let me explain. Chloe, though she is eight, wears diapers, again refer back to the “special needs” thing. So, I change her when she has pee-pee or number two. When I change her diaper, I need to well, wipe her private areas. She calls her pee-pee, her “peep-hole” which I find really amusing.

3. “Don’t talk ’bout it.” ~ I’m home all day with her, so I relish when Oscar gets home from work for adult talk. I’m a fan of re-telling Chloe antics that have happened during the day. She hates that, so as soon as she hears me start to talk about her, she busts out “Don’t talk ’bout it.” I still do though, I know, I’m mean.

It seems like there are so many more things Chloe says that I can classify as Chloe-isms, but of course I can’t think of any more. My memory is crap most of the time.

I promised Oscar, I’d clean out the hall bathroom because he’s going to demo it tomorrow.

Hallelujah. A small bathroom makeover is in my future, which is enough to make me say “yay!” any day of the week.

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I’ve never been a fan of bandages, since needing one means I’ve been injured in some way. Obviously, bandages serve their purpose. I mean, if I’m bleeding, the band-aid jar is the first place I’m headed.

My six year old daughter, Chloe, LOVES bandages. I am not exaggerating, even a teeny bit, when I say she loves them. She loves them so much, that if I should even attempt to put away, any of the myriad of band-aid boxes she calls her own, I do so, at my own peril.

I have no idea why she loves bandages so much. It may have something to do with the fact that I use them as bribery. Chloe is a trooper. She has lots of  special medical needs, one of which involves a monthly date with me, her, and a needle. She takes it like a champ, and the one thing that makes our “date” more bearable is the promise of a Dora band-aid, when it’s all over.

A box of band-aids is relatively inexpensive. Okay, they are really cheap. If that’s what it takes to keep a wily six year old entertained as I attempt to do my weekly shopping, while simultaneously  pushing a wheelchair, and a shopping cart, then so be it.

The curious part about Chloe’s band-aid addiction is that she does not enjoy sticking them on herself. She will gladly stick one or two or five bandages on you, if you let her. She sticks them on her computer, she sticks them on her toys, her sister, even on the band-aid box itself. You may think, it’s just wasteful to let a six year old use bandages in this manner. You might say, “‘Why don’t you just give her some stickers?” Believe me, I’ve tried. She does not like stickers…at all. Bandages, well….Chloe and band-aids are MFEO….you know “Made for each other.”

It does not bother me. I think it’s pretty cute, actually.  A small exception, might be when I have twelve bandages on my right arm, and am trying to wash the dishes, then I no likey.

Chloe’s favorite and most faithful bandage wearer is Abby. Abby is small, cooperative, and most importantly, inanimate.  She does not talk back, or complain one bit, about being consistently chosen as Chloe’s band-aid model. She is perfect…and is a doll…literally.

Better her than me.

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