Come Back to Planet Earth Davy

For the past week or so Davy has been spending almost her entire days in her own little world. It's getting increasingly difficult to reach her. I truly value imagination and creativity, but at what point do you intervene to prevent your child from a future of isolation and obscurity in grade school. Ok, maybe I’m overreacting. But I keep flashing back to this girl in my first grade class on the playground. She was giggling and laughing as her imaginary baby sister and brother crawled all over her. Creepy. I cannot let that happen to my child.

The worst part of it is that she is now making up things and ideas and I have no idea what she is talking about. She gets very passionate about it. She’ll almost convince me that her world exists.

"Mommy, I’m just so busy putting this 'omo' on the 'elify.' I just have to do right now or he won’t be able to 'difoo.'”

What does that have to do with the play dough all over Godzilla’s head? I think she is under the impression that making up words will confuse me and she won't get in trouble for her ridiculousness. She is on to something because I am easily distracted. Thankfully she translates in her teenager tone, "Mooo-ommm I’m washing Godzilla’s hair."

Could Dr. Seuss be to blame? Maybe we should take her off it.

Also, I don’t know if I’m just getting increasingly tired of the constant flow of items being removed from their home or if she has turned it up a notch, but it definitely seems like the latter.

This morning she was giving imaginary friends presents in every room. She was building these little towers of books and when I tried to moved them she would scream that I was taking Charlie Brown’s presents from the kitchen, the kitten’s presents from the nursery and Snoopy’s presents from my the master bedroom. Memo to Davy: The reason you have a room is to keep your toy-like items in it.

Are you the real Davy or just a crazy look-a-like?

We had our friend Alex Baker over for dinner tonight (Davy renamed him the 'brown strong man') and we tried to convince him of her sanity so that he would think that her craziness was a fluke.  She interrupted us mid-conversation dragging a brown and black blanket and made everyone pet her cow. Then she laughed herself into hysterics as her cow gave us some after dinner entertainment by nonstop jumping. Of course he needed a little cow help, but she gave us all a good laugh.

Earlier today she told me there were some cows in her room that she was playing with. I handed her Gianna's stuffed cow and asked her if she wanted to play with this cow. Her voice lowered, she looked at me seriously and blinked a few times. "No Mom. I have REEEAL cows in my room."

Whatever wacko. Please give me my semi-crazy daughter back.