Everybody's a critic

Taking Jack to the supermarket lately is like going in there with a pint-sized time bomb that instead of exploding starts whining and pulling things off the shelves.  Like juice in glass bottles and heavy containers of bleach.

It used to be that if we found a line at the supermarket that had another baby in it we could say to him, "Jack, look at the baby!" and he would get quiet and put his head on my shoulder. Shy, shy, shy around other babies.  These days distracting him has taken more ingenuity.

So on Sunday in line at the supermarket I started singing "Let it snow! Let it snow! Let it snow!"  And for a split second Jack stopped making all manner of noise.

Then he said "NO!" and shook his head.  Every time I started to sing again I got the same reaction.   I'm hoping it was that particular song he didn't like...

Comments

[Plain Jane Mom]

According to Chip, I am neither allowed to dance or to sing. I too try not to take it personally!

[Carlynn]

What about Jack singing? Or is that a recipe for disaster?

That's interesting that you have seen the healing powers of progesterone in action. My acupuncturist said that it was a possible road to explore for a cure for Alzheimers. It's interesting to see the role hormones play outside the reproductive arena (and speaking of which, I hope everything is going well. I'll be checking on Friday morning).

[Mel]

My daughter rates my songs and tells me some are good and some are poopie. Which is nice when you're out and your daughter is screaming, "poopie! Mommy, poopie! That. Song. Is. Pooooooooooopie!!!"

Assuming you didn't have the ultrasound moved up so you're going tomorrow? Crossing my fingers for you guys and hope it's a good (and reassuring) visit.