Spacegirl Molli Malou on the Subway

We’d loaned our X-Box to a friend for most of this year and just got it back recently. For reasons I won’t bother going into, we didn’t get our games back with the player, but on Thursday I loaned a game from the library and that evening I experimented with Molli Malou to see how she took to it. (It was one of those silly games where you’re a ludicrously animated anthropomorphized animal in a surreal world where slain enemies become energy blobs that increase your net worth if you consume them, etc.)

Oh, she took to it all right.

Look at the concentration:

Of course she wasn’t very good at it, but she was able to make her character jump up and down, deliver powerful earthquake slams, and walk into trees. She would do this until she got bored with it, would stand up, place the controller down, and declare that she was done.

Then I’d pick up the controller and start playing, and she’d demand immediate custody of the controller and we’d go through the whole cycle again. Good times, good times.

Her pathological need for independence is manifest in everything she does. The only way I can help her, or do something for her, is to let her try and fail first, at which point she will sheepishly and reluctantly say something along the lines of, “Daddy will do it.”

This applies to her selection of footwear.

We had planned to visit Liam and Sandie at the zoo on Sunday, but the weather turned on us and we decided to take the kids to Fields (Greater Copenhagen’s biggest mall) instead. Here’s Molli Malou on the bus in her winter travel gear.

We call it her spacesuit—even she does—and she seems to enjoy it. She won’t put her mittens or hat on until she’s outside and can actually feel the cold, but she’s quite good about wearing them once she does.

Just before we left the mall, Molli Malou stumbled onto a little teaparty display at a toystore. Some instinct kicked in and she rushed to pour the poor bear a drink.

The real purpose of this particular post is the following series of pictures, all of which were taken on the subway back from Fields (which is way out on Amager) into town. The train was fairly empty, and we got the kids set up in the rear seats, looking out the back window at the receding landscape.

Here’s a shot where you can get a sense of what they’re looking at, even though you can’t see Molli Malou or Liam.

And here are the shots of them I love.

I ought to mention, briefly and as tastefully as possible, that this weekend she relieved her bowels more often in her potty than her diaper. She has learned to hate having anything in her diaper, and will insist on being changed immediately when there’s anything of substance in there. On the other hand, she often anticipates when’re going to ask her, and flatly declares “Diaper is okay!” before we can even finish asking if she wants a fresh one.

She also broke new ground on Friday afternoon by asking me if I remembered something. We were walking home and she simply looked at up at me and asked if I remembered something that had happened that morning. (Ironically enough, I no longer remember what.)

We’re hoping to get her hair done this week, but we’re going to be sure it doesn’t get butchered like it did this spring. I’ll be sure to share pictures of her new ‘do.