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January 11, 2005

Wigguhing Out

Scotty M fell asleep in my arms as I rocked him tonight. He's getting old, old enough that there won't be to many more occasions where he'll just drift off like that. Tonight could have been the last one, for all I know.

Of course, ten minutes earlier he was screaming at the top of his lungs because I had the temerity to look at him and say "Time to read books?", which he knows is code for "bedtime," so I may not miss it as much as I think

"NO!" he told me, vehemently adding a "Wigguh!" on for emphasis.

"Wigguh!" is his latest catchall term, following in the footsteps of "Pah" (pacifier) and "Co" (cookie). It what he offers/demands as an alternative when presented with a course of action that he finds less than desirable--going to be, in this case. It means "Wiggles," which in this case is more or less shorthand for "Play a Wiggles video or I'll scream incessantly until you do." We've been through this before. On other occasions it means Scotty M has spotted a Wiggle, either somewhere obvious, like on one of the million or so Australian-flavoured accessories that litter the house, or in a more unexpected place--like on the cover of Ngnat's new library book. Hint: Look for Anthony

This can cause much distress in the household, such as when he refuses to let go of his sister's book. It was that shouting match that led us to finally take Scotty to bed, Wigguh! be damned.

The routine is down fairly pat, though, so he calmed down pretty quickly. Books, songs--Yes John, some people still sing, though I must admit singing to the children at bedtime seems rather quaint, and not at all something I would have expected myself to do even 5 or 6 years ago--and then bed. The books tend to follow a regular pattern, as do the songs. We must start with The Little Green Frog Song, and we must finish with a tune I learned from my mother, a variation of All The Pretty Little Horses.

Go to sleep, little baby.
Go to sleep, little baby.
When you wake, you shall have sweet cake
And ride a pretty little pony.

In between them there's a song about whisky, the inevitable song about a star, a passing mention or two of Jesus, and, given our parlous times, the Self Esteem Lullaby.

One day, he's going to wake up and ask where the pony is.

All we got in tonight was frog and whisky before his eyelids drooped and his arms went from grasping his blanket to his chest to spread out beside his head. Not a peep out of him since, even after his sister began meowing back at the cats outside her bedroom window at the top of her voice.

Which is to be expected. If he can fall asleep in the middle of my singing, very little can ever be expected to disturb the rest of his slumbers.

Posted by Bigwig at January 11, 2005 10:38 PM | TrackBack
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At least yours enjoys kid's shows in English. Ours has hooked onto "Xuxa" (shoo-sha), a Brazillian kid's show given to us by Ellen's boss on a lark. We now have all five of the DVDs, and are slowly learning Portugese. Or at least how to sing goofy songs in Portugese:

A hora u
Vamos Sufar!
Ollah Onda!

So instead of "Wigguh!" we get "shoo? shoo? shoo?" She already knows to grab the case, pull out the disk, drag the parent over to the DVD player, and have them open it. We are not allowed to insert the DVD though. That is a priviledge reserved by and for the Princess. Violate this rule at your peril!

Posted by: scott at January 12, 2005 09:15 AM

Oh, I just insist that you sing the little green frog song upon our next beer drinking excursion.

Perhaps it's a good thing that we're a childless singing leaves much to be desired. Of course, 5-6 years from now I may find myself sitting on the side of a bed singing to a little key, of course.

Posted by: Ace at January 12, 2005 09:55 AM
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