Lily watched some of "The Little Mermaid" for the second time today. She tells me everything that's happening, and then asks me about 25 questions about it.
"Where is Little Mermaid's mom?"
"Gee, I don't know Lily." (For that matter, where is the mother of ANY of the Disney characters? What do they have against mothers in Mickey land?)
"Well, maybe her mom wasn't being very nice, so she decided that she didn't want her to be her mom anymore."
Seriously, I almost threw up. Lily and I have been butting heads a lot and this to me was her saying, this is what I wish would happen to you. But then, it got worse. Happily sitting eating McDonald's today, Lily says in a very excited, very proud of herself voice,
"I know, Mom. I know what happened to Little Mermaid's mom. I bet she got DEAD!"
Lily! Really, are you trying to give me a heart attack? She said it like it was the best solution she'd ever come up with to any mystery of her young life. I'm not really sure she understands what "dead" exactly means, but I avoid all conversations with her about it. I don't even want to talk about flowers dying. I know that's probably not great parenting. But there are just so many other hurdles in my life right now, that explaining life and death to Lily is just not something I can even bear. So apparently, I'm leaving that up to Walt Disney and pals. But he's frozen somewhere, so he's no help in the death & dying talks at all! Humph.
In other news, we had PT today. With all her cart-pushing and standing alone, I was really excited about going today. Susan was happy for her, but we worked on strengthening her abdominal muscles the whole time. Which involved putting her in positions she did not want to be in. While Lily was in my face the whole time and completely unable to entertain herself. It was not the best 50 minutes of my life.