Fleur loves trucks. Especially the garbage trucks. There are commercial trucks coming through the neighborhood Tuesday through Friday. I can yell “Garbage truck!” and she comes ru.n.n.ing to the living room window to watch them get a trash and put the contents in the truck.
I never see her run that fast. Not when she is hurt. Not when she is scared. Not when she is upset. Just when she is the most excited she can possibly be. About a garbage truck.
She also loves the package delivery vans (UPS, FedEx, Amazon) and mail trucks. One neighbor washes delivery vans in their yard. She can watch that for as long as that takes. Her week was made one day to be allowed NEXT to the delivery van.
This particular interest was unexpected. But, we did take her to see the firetrucks and other large vehicles at a park back when she was just walking. It was amusing to see her fascinated by these things both then and now.
The preference for adult artifacts noted the television remote. Here is a more expansive yet non-comprehensive list:
- an old DVR remote that doesn’t work
- an empty deodorant
- an empty face cream
- an empty lotion bottle
- a brush
- a purse
- a plastic cup
For each she uses it as it ought. She clearly has studied how we do and wants to do it herself.
This morning, I brushed my teeth in front of her. The idea being to tap into this mimic center. It worked pretty well. She was so busy studying me brushing my teeth she was not at all resistant to hers getting brushed. This might be the avenue to getting her doing it herself.
This past weekend on Saturday, we went to the mall where there is a place with bounce houses and a new marry go round with three horses. It has a warning that a parent needs to be present and not allow the child to be off the horses. Easier said than done when your child has ride fear of missing out.
Fleur wanted on any random one at first. I put her on the red one and started the ride. As she started to get off it, I stopped the ride. She got on the yellow one, the one in her eye sight. I started the ride and within a minute I had to stop it again as she transferred to the blue. Then she wanted on the red one then yellow then blue then red.
On Sunday, we went to the park she loves. This time the FOMO reared its head in getting upset about other children trying to use the same slide. And wanting to use the next swing over, even the one identical to the one she was in.
That said, once she found the right slides (one rated for 5-12 year olds), she wanted to do them over and over and over. The issue with the other children is they were preventing her from getting back on it fast enough.
My baby has a handful of baby dolls. She calls them her baby. They are all over the house. She wakes up asking for her baby. I try to make sure one is near her bed. Throughout the day she carries one like a running back seeking the end zone.
Often it will get left behind. So we get plaintive cries about “mah baby!” My hippocampus has become attuned to tracking them so that I know where my “grandchildren” are at all times for times like these.
Not even a month ago, I could satisfy her with any of them. Lately, it has to be one of the triplets. Likely, soon it will be a specific triplet that I will have to locate.