Ellie had the following to say yesterday:

Before I was borned, when you and Daddy were picking out my name for me, I was choosing which voice I wanted to have when I got a little bit bigger. I didn’t want something too rough so I got this one. Do you like it?

Welcome to today’s Sunday Morning Lecture Series by Professor Bedhead. Today’s topic: Invincible Meerkats.

You take the good you take the bad you take ‘em both and there you have the Facts of Life. The Facts of Life. I’m convinced that it’s memories like these, stored deeply in the recesses of my brain (all 2 millimeters of it), that are responsible for my inability to add without counting on my fingers. Where was I going with this? Oh right. The Good, the Bad, the Ugly. NO! Stay focused woman.

The latest good thing is that Ellie no longer requires my repeating script about the inexistence (you know what I mean) of knocking mittens in the bathroom to do her magic. She is rockin’ the loo!

The sucky thing (a phrase I believe Mrs. Garrett might frown upon) is that the Bean’s anxiety levels are increasing at a pretty rapid pace. Or, they’ve been there all along and are manifesting in new ways. Whatever it is, I hate it. It’s affecting school. Yesterday she worried about tornadoes coming to take our house. Today, she worried about me getting hurt. In the car she worries about how to know where to drive and when to stop. At home she worries about the kids at school, germs, and the stuffed lamb (toy not taxidermy) at the library. I swear the kid is getting crow’s feet and bags under her eyes. She’s not even four.

Barbie is not someone Ellie has had the desire to get to know, start up a conversation with, or dress for success. Until yesterday. She decided to drag along Scantily Clad Spring Break Barbie to our neurologist’s appointment. I followed her all the way holding my jaw that continued to slip and fall onto the floor.

When we arrived in the waiting room, we had the joint to ourselves. Ellie decided to strip Barbie of the little dignity she had left. Leaving her completely nekkid. During the disrobing portion of our program, two families with a total of four prepubescent boys arrived. Usually in a crowd (of one other person), Ellie does her best to be invisible. Not today. Let the show begin.

Ellie: [pointing to the boobies, Barbies, not mine] Mom, what’s this called.

Me: [not caring that anyone judges me for inaccurate descriptions] That’s her chest.

Ellie: These bumps are called her chest?

Me: Yeppers.

Ellie: [pointing specifically at the tips of the "bumps"] Is this where her nipples are?

Me: Uh huh.

Ellie: [positioned Barbie with her arms and right leg straight in the air] Barbie likes to hop around like this. We can see her biscuits.

Long after our appointment, Barbie remains to be a naturalist. She did get a bath and much-needed shampoo last night. After a day like that, I can understand just wanting to wash it all away. And, I am just completely thrilled that our major launch into pretend play has continued for more than five minutes. So are four prepubescent boys.

I ran across this video today. It was taken after a visit with Santa. Not just any visit. This one took nearly two hours. We had to walk by his Santa village 36 times first. Then, we peeked into the window. 22 times. We stood in line and backed out 4 times. Then she did it. She stood within 8 feet of him, waved to him with her Meeper, and bolted. I managed to grab the gratuitous candy cane and little sticker book from his white-gloved hand, and followed her. I think the photographer might have gotten a motion shot of my left butt cheek during our exit.

And then, she just wanted a little unwind time at the mall bench. I’d like viewers to take note of the love shout out to her Dad and to her Meeper (beloved blanket with typhoid). Neither of whom had any responsibility in for Santa Quest 2010. Will I also be forgotten during her acceptance speech at the Oscars?

The down side to not having cable should be obvious. BRAVO. The up side is that I don’t have to endure the Fresh Beat Band (i.e. Satan’s siblings).

The down side for you, is that by choosing to view this, you will have to listen to my rendition of their theme song, hummed through my nose with a Chicago accent. The up side is a future STOMP star in our midst.

Welcome to the Sunday Morning Lecture Series with Professor Bedhead.

My Ellie Bean has the MOST sing songy voice. I love it. This is how she talks. ALL THE TIME. From the moment her feet hit the floor in the morning. She uses this voice to direct the actors in her life to perform in very specific ways. ALL THE TIME. Peter Jackson, make way.

There is no sitting down to just watch a movie with Ellie. The conditions must be perfect and those seated to join her are in for a rude awakening if there is any assumption that movie watching is a passive activity. Her direction starts with such polite enthusiasm. When she detects some artistic differences, she utilizes a different approach. When that fails, we’re usually looking at some sort of meltdown.

Ellie: Mom, you look SO uncomfortable on the couch. How would you like to sit on the ottoman?

Me: Thanks for your concern, honey. I’m really quite comfortable here.

Ellie: You know, maybe you could sit some place else. Your bones might start hurting.

Me: Well, I’m kind of settled in here but it’s nice of you to be concerned with my skeletal structure.

Ellie: I can’t watch my movie because I can see you.

Me: Maybe you could just not look at me.

Ellie: I’m not looking at you, but you’re distracting (hmmm…pot…kettle?). Would you please go in your office?

Me: I can’t see the movie from there and I’d love to watch it with you.

Ellie: You’re TOO distracting! I can’t concentrate!

Me: Well, maybe we could just not watch the movie at all.

Ellie: Oh alright! Can you at least cover your feet?! They’re gross.

Me: Yes. After you rub them.

Ellie: NOO!!!!!!!!! [starting to sob]. Sniffle. Sniffle. Are you teasing me?

On occasion, when I need silence from the cutest little thing I know. Who also happens to talk, question, comment, squeak, boss, and requestion without inhaling. And, never leaves my side. For a single second of the day. I go into the bathroom to *dry* my hair. There’s nothing in the world that makes her move more quickly than the speed of light than a blow dryer. Mama, One. Autism, Zero.

From the time Ellie could talk, she has wanted her parents to take on different personae. Santa, her Uncle Vic (who has hairy toes), or the Count from Sesame Street. Really, anyone with a gruff voice will work. Clearly, this is easier for her father.

Her demeanor changes immediately. She starts showing off. “Watch me stand on one foot, turn upside down and wave at you with my pinky – is that awesome? I can look up without moving my head, can you? I put my dudes in the potty now, sometimes even at school.” This would go on for the rest of her life if we let it. The upside to it, is that the character can get her to do just about anything her parents can’t. Put a toy away, get on a coat in less than thirty minutes, bring current character a beer, etc.

The only thing Mama hates worse than grocery shopping is cleaning the toilet. The grocery store trips are made slightly more stressful when accompanied by the girl who talks without inhaling. However, if “Vlad” (the Russian buzzard from “Horton hears a Who”) is the one roaming about the aisles and commenting on Ellie’s helpfulness, I find I am able to get out of there with one less facial tic than usual.

The down side is that the staff and fellow shoppers at Shop N Save are not sure if I am a Russian, Mexican, or German man, as my dialect changes course throughout our trip. See, I’ve had no formal training. It’s evident these people are continually questioning whether or not to call the authorities. The only thing preventing them, I think, is that they don’t know whether to report derangement or a possible international child heist.