It turns out that kids really do say the funniest thing. And Mackensie has been on a role.
I may have mentioned in the past that dealing with a 2 year old brings out more lying, cajoling, and bargaining than any self-respecting adult should really deal in. I'm not proud to say it, but when Mac is being completely intractable, we take away toys. The other day, Tim came up with a new threat: calling Santa to tell him to take a toy off of Mac's list. So we actually get out the cell phone and have a full conversation with Santa while she stands there. I'm not crazy about this because I've wanted to minimize any mention of Santa. I don't really like Santa for 2 reasons: 1 -- Santa is not what the holiday is about at all and 2 -- it's a lie that really has no purpose. Why can't she just know that we bring the gifts? Of course, nobody else agrees with me, so she thinks there is a Santa Claus.
So after an especially difficult trip to the library in which Mac ran around the entire perimeter while I chased her with Oliver's car seat in tow, I decided to pull the Santa card. I called Santa and told him to take 2 toys off of her list (I was really pissed). This was in the library parking lot. We got into the car, drove to the mall, and came home about 2 hours later. While we were in the kitchen getting ready for dinner, I saw her on one of her "phones." I didn't pay attention until I heard her say Santa. She was calling Santa. I thought she was telling on herself (she's at that age where she will still tell you that she did something bad), but then I heard her say "mommy" and "she hit me." It was then I realized that she called Santa on me. And she was lying. I didn't hit her! She continued to stand there and have a conversation with Santa, full with pauses for him to respond, in which she told on me. Even though it was frustrating, I thought it was pretty funny and clever. And, of course, picture her doing all of this with a summer dress over her sweatsuit, because even though it is 50 degrees, she won't go anywhere without a "pretty dress."
Meanwhile, Oliver is doing well! He had an appointment with neurosurgery and they confirmed that he still doesn't need a shunt. And for the first time, they actually said "Maybe he will be one of the few who doesn't need one." This is huge, because the last two times they warned me that even though he didn't need one yet, he would probably need one in the long run. And he only has one more casting session before his surgery in December. I'm not really looking forward to that, but I guess it is better to get it out of the way when he won't remember it. He also started his in-home physical therapy this week. It was pretty cool -- he had some tummy time and was able to boost himself up on his little arms. It was really great to see him making such good progress. And he is just such a pleasure -- he smiles and coos all the time! Poor guy has some gas issues, but I'll just say he gets that from daddy.
