Friday, April 25, 2008

my bee girl

Mollybird started getting really scared of bees a few weeks ago, when the evil little fucking wasps living in our car port sprang to buzzing, vile life with the advent of spring. I'm allowing my seething hatred of the nasty creatures bias to show because I want some kudos for the zen aloofness that I'll affect here in this next part of the story: So, we launched a massive PR campaign about how Bees Are Great and They Do Not Hurt Us If We Leave Them Alone. We reinforced the effort by cute idyllic little stories about hives and honey and ooh! candle wax, too! "You know how you love little candle flames, Bird? That's a bee gift, too! Bees rock!" I was integral in the bee love mission- when the buzzy little demons came near me, I sat with perfect patient stillness and beamed at my frightened toddler, radiating my love of all things with wings and stingers. She wasn't buying it, but the insta-panic seemed at least to relax into hesitant sobs.

Two weeks ago, we were in the dining room having our morning coffee/sodapop/sippy and breakfast and the baby suddenly screamed and burst into tears. Immediately after, a huge wasp flew away from her arm. We weren't sure if she was scared or stung for a minute, but then a little welp popped up. Bu smashed the wasp and I dialed 911 called the pediatrician to get her dosing for Benadryl- my mom had a deadly allergy so I was panicked. (See, there is a rational explanation for a nature worshipper to detest insects. It's allowed.) We got her dosed and calmed, and then The Story was told for the first time.

Now, it's not the same without sound effects and gestures, but she says: "Bee! Hot! Boo (this is her nickname) and she points to her elbow where the sting was, then she pushes her hand out to show where the bee went. "Dada! Oof!" and she shows how Dada smashed the offending wasp. She beams when she gets to that part- her Daddy is a Superhero. A Bee Slayer. Protector of the Innocent. It is awesome to watch his face when she tells her story.

And she is still telling it. She's learned to say "sting" just to improve the story. The site of the boo-boo keeps moving; it's now on her hand. We are muchly amused by all the storytelling, and are pretty blown away that she remembers it and recounts it well enough that a new audience can follow the plot. It's positively amazing that my girl has such a grasp on language now. She is just... fluent almost. Storybooks are even more important lately, too, as she decided last week she is no longer nursing to sleep.

It's so much fun right now. And fascinating. She's like a time-lapse video of a flower blooming on fast forward. The development seems to be tripping over itself as she learns stuff. The other day I remarked to Bu that she's a lot more personey now.

Interestingly, she is much tougher now about bees.

2 comments:

Lexie said...

Part of me wants to say, but WASPS are evil and BEES are good!!!!! but yeah, I understand that stings/ bites are all bad.

Heidi said...

Well, yeah, I dig honeybees, I really do. But we are infested with evil waspies. Hate. Argh.

And dude, she is STILL talking about it!