Wednesday, May 20, 2015

no walking or talking

My grandpa tells us not to teach our children to walk or to talk, because it just gets complicated after they learn those things. While I try to take his advice, I've had no luck with this particular piece. But I do recognize that he has a point.

My boy has been babbling sweet nothings behind me in the car for months now (possibly a year...). And I love it - a little background music to my life. But every once in a while I would think "Oh no! Before long there will start to be words, then I will have to listen and respond" and I would sigh, resigned that all in all, talking is a useful skill.

And now it's here.

"Knah-Knah!" "who's there?"

"Pane!" "Do you see a plane?"

"Tuck." "Yes, there's a truck."

"Buhssss." "Oh, I see the bus too."

"Choo-chooo!" "Yes, this is an overpass" (just like the one where the train is).

"Bah." "Yes, you and Babs can both have a Nutty Bar."

"Lub-lub!" "No, I don't have a drink for you. Sorry."


The redeeming side of these simple conversations, is that although I repeat what he says a lot, he's repeating what I say a lot, and adding new words every day.

Thursday, May 14, 2015

knock, knock

My children love to tell jokes, even if they're not very good at it. They especially love knock, knock jokes. And they do it often enough (and tell the same jokes enough) that my not quite 2 year old gets in on the game.

Boy: "Nah, nah!" (he will repeat this line as often as necessary to get me to give the proper response)
me: "Who's there?"
Boy: (long pause) "Tow!" (rhymes with cow) (more pause) "Moooo!" then he laughs, because he's cracked himself up. He cracks me up too.

(This is how the joke actually goes:
Knock-knock
Who's there?
The interupting cow
The interu-
MOOOOO!
Teach it to your kids, you can enjoy it forever...)

Sunday, May 10, 2015

medium mom

Babs hates it when we get mad at her (ironic, given that she is so good at making us mad). But, we've made a concerted effort over the last few months to not get mad at her, and deal with our flash points differently. Either we don't engage in the argument, or we do things differently so there are fewer opportunities to get stressed at each other. And it's working.

But a few weeks ago, it wasn't. We needed to be in the car so we could pick Kiddo up from school. And Babs wasn't doing her part. I finally yelled, or spoke sharply, or something that she needed to sit down this instant.

Vaguely cowering (finally now) in her seat, she said hopefully "Happy mommy?" because she wanted me to be nice again. I was still stressed, but trying to calm down. "Happy mommy is not available right now" I shot back.

"Medium mommy?" she countered. And then I had to laugh.


And thus "medium mommy" has entered the lexicon. I try to be happy mommy for their sakes and mine. But sometimes I'm too tired or frustrated to have her around. So then medium mommy comes for a while. It's a compromise we can all live with.

Monday, May 4, 2015

birthday present

A few days after her birthday, Babs asked me if she got anything from preschool for her birthday.

"Yeah, you got a 'happy birthday' pencil," I replied.

"You know I can't write!" she disgustedly replied.