It’s Not All Mary Poppins

Sunshine Poppy

Since re-discovering her brave, Poppy has blossomed right back into the pre-anxiety girl I’d loved so well.

She’s enthusiastic.
She’s happy.
She’s cuddly.
She’s adorable.
She’s friendly.
She’s brave.
And she makes me laugh at least four times an hour.

This morning, Poppy kneels on a chair at my dining table, a tray puzzle of jungle animals in front of her. She is the only child here yet, so I am finishing the breakfast dishes before the others arrive. Poppy sings to herself as the fits pieces into the puzzle, removes them, puts them back. Only after a few minutes do I realize that she is singing “Old MacDonald”, and fitting the words to the puzzle. This Old MacDonald has a zebra, a hippo, a giraffe, a monkey, an elephant, a parrot, and a rhino on his farm. Animals which make a fairly impressive range of growls, snorts, and squawks.

Our theme for this month is Rainbows. November is a dismal, grey, drab, altogether tedious and disheartening month. How better to resist the slide into the drab by having a Rainbow theme? I went out looking for a prism to make rainbows, and came back with one of these. It makes rainbows. Really. It adheres to my living room window with a suction cup. A teeny solar panel at the top powers the motor, which spins the crystal at the bottom, sending rainbow-hued blobs swirling around the room, on the walls, floor, ceiling. Through some wonder of faceted crystals, they move in many directions. Some go left, some go right, some surge upward, some down. It’s lovely.

It takes direct sunlight on the solar panel, though, something in which November is sorely lacking. No sunshine = no rainbows. This morning, though, the sun broke through and within a few minutes, the crystal had begun to turn. It was Poppy who noticed first.

She stands in the middle of the room, her face alight. “RAINBOWS! There are RAINBOWS!!” Her arms extend above her head, her eyes wide in delighted wonder, she twirls with the rainbows. Then she chases them, laughing, before deciding that THE VERY BEST thing to do is to jump on the ones racing across the floor. Laughing, laughing the whole while. The other children, who had been oblivious to the rainbows, are drawn to her joy, and soon the room is filled with laughing, reaching, dancing toddlers.

Though I had put away the dogs’ leashes and other dog-walk accessories (poop bags, treat bag, Daisy’s harness), I had left the small flashlight on the shelf in the front hall. This is not where it belongs. Poppy noticed. She carries it to me, and declares in her usual enthusiastic, decisive tones, “This is your flashlight for looking at poo!”

Not quite how I’d have phrased it, perhaps, but the child is absolutely correct. Hard to distinguish poo from leaves from sticks from grass in the PITCH DARK of our early morning walks. (Though less so this week, now that we’ve FINALLY switched to daylight savings. Two weeks late. Ahem.) All responsible dog-owners find themselves at some point peering into the beam of their handy flashlight for the shit they KNOW is RIGHT THERE, if they could only find it.

My “flashlight for looking at poo”, indeed.

Poppy. My little laugh machine. Love that girl.

November 6, 2012 Posted by | Poppy, the cuteness!, the things they say! | , , , | 3 Comments

The best medicine

Have you all heard of “Damn You, Auto Correct!” ?

I hadn’t, not before yesterday morning. Oh, my lord, that site is FUNNY.

Laugh-out-loud funny.

Pee-yourself-laughing funny.

Laugh till you cry funny.

Note that last item. If you’ve had a seriously awful time of it lately, if you’ve been putting on a good face and just plodding through it, one foot ahead of the other, if you’ve been feeling life is pretty damned unfair, all in all, and the world shockingly lacking in compassion …

If any of that is true, you might just find yourself laughing, and then laughing till the tears run down your face, and then you might suddenly notice the tears have turned to sobs which shudder through your whole body. Could be you’ll sob until there are no more tears, just the silent, heaving shudders. (Because, you know, you don’t want to be waking people at five in the morning just because that’s when you wake.)

And you might, at the end of all that…

You might feel a whole helluva lot better. You’ll look like hell, mind you, blotchy and swollen and red-rimmed and snotty, but you’ll feel fifty pounds lighter, and you just might feel like you can breathe for the first time in weeks.

It’s not always easy medicine, but it sure is effective.

And is that not the funniest damned site you’ve ever encountered?


November 18, 2010 Posted by | the dark side | , | 15 Comments