There has been a request to blog about a certain Barak story, and since I take my readers' requests very seriously, here it is.
As longtime readers (well, those who have been reading since May anyway) will recall, when Iyyar was born Grandma E came and stayed with us for a week. She also stayed when Barak was born, and both times averted (well, inasmuch as it was averted, she averted it) total emotional breakdown on my part--bad labor first time around, jaundiced baby second time around, hormonal postpartum mother both times. It helps to have a Grandma who knows what she's doing.
Because Grandma E lives about, um, a thousand miles away, we don't get to see her very often, and hadn't seen her since that last new-baby visit. Yesterday, she and Grandpa M stopped by for the day on their way to another visit, and I wanted to make sure Barak remembered her. We talk about her, but six months is a long time when you are two and a half and I wasn't sure he'd recognize her when she came. So that morning, after breakfast, I pulled out the photo album and we looked at pictures.
"Barak, who's that?" "Dass Gramma!" "Who's that?" "Dass baby Iyyar!" "Who's that?" "Dass Barak!" and so on. He definitely knew who was who.
"Barak, guess who's coming today?" Inquisitive look.
"Grandma's coming." He looked at me for a moment, with that look two-year-olds get when every cog and gear in their brains is churning madly.
"Yeah, Grandma's coming."
Think, think, think. Thought process concluded. Face crumples into despair. "NO!!!! No want it! No want it Grandma coming! NO!!"
What the...? "Barak, Grandma's coming! Grandma's so nice! She plays with you and reads you books, and I think she's even bringing you a truck sweater today."
"NO! No want it Grandma! No want it BABY!"
Ohhhh. I get it now. "Barak, we're not getting a new baby. Just Grandma is coming."
"Yeah, just Grandma."
Hiccup. Hiccup. Cough. Sniffle. "'Kay."
I think he remembered her visit all right.