Thursday, February 21, 2008
Monday, February 18, 2008
Verbal
"Can I move my chair?" asks Charlie in polite, winning tones. He wants to sit on top of the dishwasher to help me make playdough.
"Yes," I say.
"Oh, good. How convenient!" he answers with relief. "'Cause I'm making angel surprise cake with rasperry fluff icing. And frosting. Icing and frosting. For Grandma."
Seriously? Convenient? The kid started talking, like, last week. I just can't keep up.
"Yes," I say.
"Oh, good. How convenient!" he answers with relief. "'Cause I'm making angel surprise cake with rasperry fluff icing. And frosting. Icing and frosting. For Grandma."
Seriously? Convenient? The kid started talking, like, last week. I just can't keep up.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Egg
Charlie is 3. Quintessentially 3. It's an intense time. He's growing and changing in wild spurts, poking at the boundaries of his world, boomeranging out away from me and crashing back. He needs his Mom frequently, but like any good artist he tells his truth slant. It goes something like this.
He melts down into child's pose and says in a muffled voice, "I'm an egg. Pick me up and put me on the couch. No, the big couch." "My dear little egg," I reply, snuggling him closely. "How I love my egg! I love to hold my dear little egg and keep it warm. I can't wait until my egg hatches and I can see my little hatchling's face." I've learned not to say "Charlie" because he isn't always being Charlie. Sometimes it's Max or George.
Slowly, he emerges from behind his hands and uncurls his legs. "Hello, my hatchling!" I croon. "Welcome to the world."
We take a long, deep, quiet breath together.
I think, if I ever have Alzheimer's and live in fragments of the past... please let this be one. That would be OK.
Then zippity zap, he bounds off again. Usually to ride his tricycle (aka the zoopercar) madly around the house. Did you know that if you pour flour on the kitchen floor and ride a trike through it as many times as possible while Mom's taking a leak you can disseminate it nearly evenly throughout a 1200 square foot house? Science is fun!
He melts down into child's pose and says in a muffled voice, "I'm an egg. Pick me up and put me on the couch. No, the big couch." "My dear little egg," I reply, snuggling him closely. "How I love my egg! I love to hold my dear little egg and keep it warm. I can't wait until my egg hatches and I can see my little hatchling's face." I've learned not to say "Charlie" because he isn't always being Charlie. Sometimes it's Max or George.
Slowly, he emerges from behind his hands and uncurls his legs. "Hello, my hatchling!" I croon. "Welcome to the world."
We take a long, deep, quiet breath together.
I think, if I ever have Alzheimer's and live in fragments of the past... please let this be one. That would be OK.
Then zippity zap, he bounds off again. Usually to ride his tricycle (aka the zoopercar) madly around the house. Did you know that if you pour flour on the kitchen floor and ride a trike through it as many times as possible while Mom's taking a leak you can disseminate it nearly evenly throughout a 1200 square foot house? Science is fun!
Sunday, February 3, 2008
Holiday
Charlie has been experimenting with the concepts of regular days and "special" days. We have a cabinet full of unusual dishes that is designated the Holiday cabinet. He longs to open it. "Is today a holiday?" he'll ask, inching towards the cabinet, hand outstretched in hopeful anticipation. Unfortunately for him, the answer is hardly ever "yes".
So he's decided to make up his own. "Today is Climbing Day," he announced last week as he scaled the radiator behind my chair at dinner. "I can climb up here because it's Climbing Day today." My immediate retort of, "no, today is not Climbing Day," caused him to smile. Charlie knows that you win the argument by framing the argument.
Since then we have witnessed the declarations of TV Day, Naked Day, and Coke Day. Just as it was getting old, he shifted to a focus on the clock. "Six o'clock!" he announced this morning. "Time for chocolate!"
(well. just a little chocolate.)
So he's decided to make up his own. "Today is Climbing Day," he announced last week as he scaled the radiator behind my chair at dinner. "I can climb up here because it's Climbing Day today." My immediate retort of, "no, today is not Climbing Day," caused him to smile. Charlie knows that you win the argument by framing the argument.
Since then we have witnessed the declarations of TV Day, Naked Day, and Coke Day. Just as it was getting old, he shifted to a focus on the clock. "Six o'clock!" he announced this morning. "Time for chocolate!"
(well. just a little chocolate.)
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Dinosaur
Charlie, narrating conversations between two toy dinosaurs:
Dino 1: Do you want to play with me?
Dino 2: Yes! Let's go swimming!
Dino 1: OK! (both jump into a bowl of water).
Dino 1: Do you want to play with me?
Dino 2: No! I want to eat you.
Dino 1: Oh no, don't eat me!
Dino 2: Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you (these must be Canadian dinosaurs) Do you want to swim?
Dino 1: OK! (again with the water)
Dino 1: Do you want to play with me?
Dino 2: Yes! Let's go swimming!
Dino 1: OK! (both jump into a bowl of water).
Dino 1: Do you want to play with me?
Dino 2: No! I want to eat you.
Dino 1: Oh no, don't eat me!
Dino 2: Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you (these must be Canadian dinosaurs) Do you want to swim?
Dino 1: OK! (again with the water)
Friday, January 18, 2008
Moon
Much cuteness abounds lately.
We're hearing opinions on music. "I like this pretty noise. This is a nice song," of Duke Ellington's Harlem Congo. "Turn it off. Turn it off now." of Kenna. (Sorry, Kenna. I like ya!)
He brought me a post-it. "Write, 'Speedy Gonzales, the fastest mouse in all Mexico'," he instructed me. Then he slapped it on his chest and ran around the house, shrieking in toddler cartoon Spanish.
The other night Charlie asked John for some cashews. He ate one and walked around with the other held above his head. "Look, Mommy, far away! It's the moon!"
We're hearing opinions on music. "I like this pretty noise. This is a nice song," of Duke Ellington's Harlem Congo. "Turn it off. Turn it off now." of Kenna. (Sorry, Kenna. I like ya!)
He brought me a post-it. "Write, 'Speedy Gonzales, the fastest mouse in all Mexico'," he instructed me. Then he slapped it on his chest and ran around the house, shrieking in toddler cartoon Spanish.
The other night Charlie asked John for some cashews. He ate one and walked around with the other held above his head. "Look, Mommy, far away! It's the moon!"
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Farm
We all had a lovely afternoon at Ross Farm yesterday. Highlights included samples of home-made ice cream at the cooperage; watching the blacksmiths heat up a wagon rim in a bonfire and then fit it onto a wagon wheel; some scary geese; a purr factory of a tabby kitten in the horse barn; hot chocolate in the one-room schoolhouse (operational until 1959!); and a hilarious farty pig.
On our way out we stopped at the gift shop to look over some of the wooden things made on the farm. We considered wind chimes and a butter churn, then left with a nice tasting spoon for me and a little bank for Charlie. All morning he has been trading back and forth between "building words" with his alphabet cookie cutters and putting money in the bank. I think I'll go borrow a little of his work ethic.
On our way out we stopped at the gift shop to look over some of the wooden things made on the farm. We considered wind chimes and a butter churn, then left with a nice tasting spoon for me and a little bank for Charlie. All morning he has been trading back and forth between "building words" with his alphabet cookie cutters and putting money in the bank. I think I'll go borrow a little of his work ethic.
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