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communication [30 May 2005|06:50pm]
The housing situation has taken many twists and turns, which I will explain when things have resolved themselves a little more. For now, we’re still in the same place, but hoping to change that soon. In the meantime, here’s a little Olivia news:

About a week ago, she was standing in the kitchen and wanted to say something very important. She looked me in the eye and, nodding forcefully with each word, she clearly enunciated, “Jesus. Hurts.” Uh … huh. O-kay … let’s be rational. Maybe ... God is prophetically using my baby to express His sadness at the state of the world.

Again, Olivia looked at me intently and said, “Jesus (nod) Hurts (nod).” I see. Okay, thanks, Baby. Let’s go play and try to forget that you’re acting out a scene from a fanatical religious tract.

Almost daily, for the next four or five days, Olivia would try again to get us to understand. The emphatic nods would stay the same, but she’d switch her pronunciation around: “Chesus. Hurts.”, “Cheess. Hurts.” Over and over again, she’d try to make us figure it out. You could see her little mind just a-whirring, thinking to herself, “These people are idiots. I can see that I’m going to have to make myself crystal clear. Maybe charades will help.”

So today, eating her breakfast, she tried again, looking at me like she hoped her poor retarded mother could catch on this time: “Cheess (nod, point to her tooth) Hurts.” Oh, my gosh, I am an idiot. Teeth hurts. TEETH hurts. The kid is teething and her inept parents are talking about God, politics and the war in Iraq.

If you could only have seen the pure joy on her face when we finally showed we understood. Poor kid. Maybe after all this practice, she’ll grow up and teach English as a foreign language.

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