This morning:

Me: Cordy, are you ever gonna call me mom, mommy or mama?

Cordy: Noooo

(As an aside, she has only said the word “no” about three times ever. Four if you count the “noooo” she gave Aaron later this morning when he asked her, “Can I have a hug?”)

It won’t be long until she’ll be saying, “OK, lady, I love you! Bye-bye!”

I don’t get it. Isn’t “mama” one of the first words a kid says? She’s got “dadeeeee!” down and uses it often. But I have no name to her. I’m the lady who she shoves her sippy cup at for a drink.

At this point, I wouldn’t even care if she called me “lady”. Am I not deserving of some kind of title from her? Do I not rank up there with “Dadeeee”? The cats have their name (Kiiii!), and she’s even spoken her first non-relative name (Dave – the significant other of my friend and Cordy’s babysitter Lisa). When do I get my label announcing my importance to her?

While sitting here typing, I just asked her, “Cordy, who am I?” and pointed to myself. She responded by laughing at me, then handed me her sippy cup.

Sigh.

Edited to add: I was just reading Sweet Juniper, and Cordy pointed to the picture of Juniper and said “BAbeee!” Damn. Now people on the internet are getting names from her before me.

My friend Kristi is in the student teaching phase of getting her degree in Music Education. She’s teaching at a middle school in a well-to-do school district near Cincinnati. She describes it as an “upper-middle-class” area.

Recently, her 7th and 8th grade classes had to write papers on Mozart. They should at least be decent papers, right? Well, many were, but Kristi found some interesting sentences in some of the papers she was grading.

This is not some floating around the internet list of crazy things students have written. These are actual sentences written by Kristi’s 7th and 8th grade classes from a suburban Cincinnati school district (name of the district withheld to protect the guilty).

Here are a few lesser-known facts about Mozart. I think I’m scared for the future of the U.S. with kids who are nearing high school writing things like this:

–By the age of five Mozart started composing in minutes.

–Mozart born December 5, 1756, died January 27, 1756 (Reincarnated, maybe?)

–Mozart was born in Salzburg, Australia on January 27, 1956 (He’s currently 50 years old and lives in the German district of Sydney.)

–Mozart composed many sympathies and day by day he became more famous. (The most famous sympathy card composer ever. Hallmark loves him.)

–He died in his wife’s arm in Vienna, Austria at 1am. (Everyone remembers his famous one-armed wife.)

–People are not for sure where he is buried, but some say that he is buried in an anonymous grave. (Hence not knowing where he’s buried…)

–Mozart is a very talented man, and has been his entire life.

–Wolfgang Mozart on Jan. 27, 1756. (The suspense is killing me on this one.)

–Mozart has constructed over 600 pieces of music.

–Some people think he may have been murdered by Antonio Salteri

–Although of his death, Mozart will live forever. (You know, aside from that pesky “death” part.)

–One of Mozart’s well known pieces is called “The 5th of Mozart” (Makes more sense than calling it “The 5th of Beethoven”.)

–Mozart was on TV and many people knew him from his work of music. (Somehow Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure is going through my head on this one.)

I wish I was making this stuff up.

Cordy-bear,

You’ve been with us 17 months today. It’s hard to believe how big you are now, compared to just a year ago. You’ve always been on the big side, and you’re continuing to stay that way it seems.

You outgrew most of your 18 month clothing a few months ago, and now are inching your way into 2T. Of course, your head still requires a 4T hat.

In the past month, you’ve amazed us by your ability to count. No one remembers teaching you how to count to six; you seem to have picked it up on your own. Then I watch Noggin with you, and see your favorite friend, Moose A. Moose, counting forks and sides of shapes and ants.

Ah-ha! Moose taught you to count. You count right along with him, although you seem to have something against the number four. Half the time you neglect to put it between three and five. I guess you’re just very excited to get to fi-siih (all one word). Screw the experts who say TV only rots the brains of our youth – our TV is teaching you to count, and I’m right there to reinforce what you’re learning on Noggin.

Not to say that your favorite boy band is being ignored. Nothing can make you snap your head around faster than to have the Wiggles on TV. Your devotion to them is strong and unwavering.

In your top 5 most important things in life, they rank slightly beneath mommy and daddy, and just above food and your pink bunny lovey, although some days they seem to even rank above mommy and daddy.

This month has not been kind to you when it comes to head injuries. You are a skilled walker now, and what you lack in grace and coordination you make up for in speed. We wish you would slow down, but you have a need for speed. Chasing you three laps around the downstairs to wipe your nose helps build that endurance you seek. But speed has led to carelessness and injury, and we are sometimes embarrassed to take you out in public for fear that people will think we abuse you. You’re also interested in jumping now, and while you can’t get your feet off the ground, watching you try is adorable.

The sippy cup is still a battle. You carry it around and shove it in our faces to make us hold it so you can have a drink. While we’re glad you’ve taken to the sippy so well, we really wish you’d hold your own cup. This is getting old, fast.

I’ve tried holding your hands on the cup, which results in you throwing yourself to the ground in a tantrum of protest. I’ve tried not giving in, only to have you follow me around the house, sippy in hand, whining and thrusting it at me anytime I turn around. I keep hoping that one day you’ll pick the thing up and take a drink on your own. I don’t want to still be holding that cup for you when you’re in junior high.

Your newest obsession is dish towels. Once you learned to open the lowest kitchen drawer, and found stacks of towels in there, you’ve insisted on placing them where you think they need to be. This includes the steps, the kitchen floor, in front of the TV, on the cats, on your head, and in your mouth.

Occasionally you will place some of them back into the drawer, giving me hope that you will learn to clean-up soon, but then you quickly fling them back out onto the kitchen floor again. Ah well.

Seeing your personality develop this month has been amazing. You’re starting to really make the connection with communication, and will use any form of communication necessary to get your point across. Thankfully, you’ve resorted to screaming and whining less than you used to. You’re especially good during your alone time with daddy, and choose to hold in your true feelings until mommy is home.

You still aren’t fond of sleeping. Afraid you’ll miss the pony rides, I guess. While it frustrates me, your grandma laughs at your inability to nap. The words “just like your mom” are often heard between hearty chuckles. I guess I’m getting some kind of mommy retribution for how I was as a child. Don’t worry, I’ll try not to laugh (as much) when you have children who won’t sleep.

In all, I’m so enjoying see you grow and develop. You are strong-willed, but I wouldn’t want to change you for anything.

Your persistence and determination will serve you well as you get older and tackle new challenges.

Never lose that fire in your eyes, no matter how much I may beg you to in the future.

Love,
Mommy

Kristen over at Motherhood Uncensored has created a new meme. The point of the meme is to find a picture of your 80’s alter-ego. This one took a little thought, and a lot of picture searching.

So who am I? Well, I always wanted to be this:

But in reality I was more like this:

Yes, that’s Molly Ringwald in the Facts of Life.

I had enough TV to watch each week. I didn’t need another show to be hopelessly addicted to.

House M.D. on Fox has me hooked, though. After hearing so much about it from people we knew, Aaron and I watched an episode about a month ago. And now? Now I’m driving past cops at 75 mph so that I won’t miss much of tonight’s episode. I need help.

We had seriously cut back on TV when Cordy was born, mostly because we never had time to follow any storyline with a colicky baby. Slowly, I’ve allowed myself to form relationships with TV characters. I came back to Smallville after the strange and whacked-out season last year. I’ve had an on-again, off-again love with ER: it’s evolved into a take-it-or-leave-it relationship, where I can watch an episode out of sequence and be content if I miss the next one. I’ve finished the entire Sex and the City series, and feel no need to return to it, although I had a fabulous time with our hours together. American Idol has been here all along, too, hiding in the shadows as my deep dark secret. I love it, but I feel dirty for loving it.

Then along came Bones, a new show about a forensic anthropologist. Bet you never knew that forensic anthropologist was one of my chosen careers as a child, did you? Yep, right up there with marine biologist and astronaut. Bones is by far one of the best written shows on TV right now. Not only is there interesting science (no lowest common denominator here!), but the characters are complex and the banter is witty.

And now it’s House, a TV show about an egotistical doctor who has the worst bedside manner ever seen. He’s such a despicable character – why do I like him? I also have no idea what’s going on at times, because we started watching somewhere in the middle of season 2, and we have never seen season 1. What happened to his leg? What happened between him and the psychiatrist?

I really didn’t need another TV series. Now I’m even lusting after a Tivo, to make sure I never miss my favorite shows. Will it ever end? Am I a horrible person for spending so much time each week with my boob tube?

Fess up, people. What shows do you have a personal relationship with? And are they healthy relationships or are they spiraling out of control? Could you walk away if you had to?