DAY 14: Rose Gold

14/365 Rose Gold, originally uploaded by Kikigill.

About ten years ago, I discovered rose gold. Not sure how or why, but I LOVED it. My skin tone has always been rosier and it just seemed to go nicely with it. My wedding set is actually in rose gold (and I still LOVE it, despite not wearing it on account of the divorce). The interesting story is not about my love of rose gold (snooooooooze), but instead it's about this bracelet.

Do you ever buy yourself a gift and put it away for Christmas? Do you ever wrap up things you want from yourself? I have been known to in the past...This year, a similar thing happened. It was Christmas morning, I was at my ex-husband's house with the kids. We were celebrating a lovely Christmas morning, opening gifts, pancake breakfast, and basically just jubilant that Santa had come!

My ex produced a jewely box from the basement. It was awkward for a moment as I wondered what he was doing buying me jewelry...Then, I opened the box. It was a bracelet I had bought myself probably three years earlier. It had gotten lost in his stuff in the divorce. It didn't fit my wrists right after childbirth, but now, it fits like a dream. Merry Christmas to me, from me...

DAY 13: Sassy Frassy

13/265 Sassy Frassy, originally uploaded by Kikigill.

Elena is going through the phobic four-and-a-half-year-old stage. She's afraid of heights, stairs and being knocked off her feet. She scurries around the house like a little mouse afraid of being stepped on. Lately, she has taken to hiding out in the living room. She has made herself a play area behind the couch. She still takes in all that is going on around the house and comments on it. This morning, I was sitting in another room, Liam was in the kitchen and she was in her hiding place. She was shouting orders to both me and Liam from behind the couch. I tried to impress upon her that her orders hold much less power when shouted from another room, but that doesn't seem to stop her! Sweet little sassafrass!!!

DAY 12: Bed Party

12/365 Self-Obsession, originally uploaded by Kikigill.

Liam came into my room this morning crying hoarsely outside my door. Turns out he and my dad had gotten into a scrape about clementine oranges (Liam calls them cwememtimes). Anyhow, he needed Mommy. I was very grateful to be allowed to sleep in until 8AM!!! That almost never happens...

So, he comes to my room crying about Chapstick. He's still obsessed with Chapstick...completely and totally addicted. He talks about his face hurting or his lips hurting so he can get a fix. He came into my room so he could hound me for Chapstick. Funny boy...

Once the kids come into my room, while I am still in bed, they have to be a part of a "bed party" where I pull them up on my bed with me and we roll around like animals. Liam and I had a bed party this morning and I got out my camera. This is a picture of him staring into my lens, saying his name, fascinated by his distorted reflection.

DAY 11: R&R

11/365 R&R in the Berkshires, originally uploaded by Kikigill.

Relaxation...So relaxed, I can't come up with anything to go with this picture...so, just stare into the fire.

Day 10: The Crackberry

10/365 The Crackberry, originally uploaded by Kikigill.

I don't even need to say much more about this picture. Crackberry, it is. I am an addict. This week, on Wednesday, my six-month old Blackberry stopped charging. This is exactly how my last one died. I had a sinking feeling in my stomach and a panicky burst of energy compelling me to go to three Verizon kiosks before finally finding the one that handled repairs. Repairs were not necessary, just replacement. Same model. Same color. Unfortunately. I actually long for the new touch screen one.

Horsey Shirt

9/365 Elena in Repose, originally uploaded by Kikigill.

Every day we have a hunt for one of Elena's animal themed shirts. This one is known as her "new horsey shirt" and she adores it! She even calls the little horseback polo player on the Ralph Lauren clothing "horsey." I had hoped not to have a horse-oriented child. I remember longing for a horse, but not really knowing what it would entail. I am not sure she really wants a horse, more wants to bedeck herself in them, draw them, play with figurines and just be in the company of horse things.

Grandfather's Green Glass

Green Glass, originally uploaded by Kikigill.

My grandfather got these cheap green glasses in Mexico (according to my grandmother). He used to fill them, as was his habit, with extra ice in whatever beverage he was drinking. He would drink the liquid and then proceed to chomp the ice for hours after. One of my fondest memories of my grandfather is sitting next to him and listening to his teeth satisfyingly crush ice.

And...It's Been a Week!

Ice storm here in New England. How cool is this andromeda branch completely encased in ice? I tried to walk on the driveway and ended up skating!! We rarely have ice...usually just snow or rain. It's a treat for a photographer. Lucky me!

Endings...

6/365 - After Christmas, originally uploaded by Kikigill.

A break-up and the last flowers we exchanged are now dead. Also scattered on the snow are pine needles from the now jettisoned Christmas tree...Endings.

Days Two, Three, Four and Five...I Like Five the Best!

DAY TWO:

Liam, looking out the window upon waking up. I know it was early in the morning because, as part of my father's morning ritual, he pulls open those curtains when he gets up around seven or so.

DAY THREE:

This kid is a ham. Loves attention. Loves to be in the center of it all. He's recently taken to taking your hand to lead you places with him..."Tum here, Mommy...Tum wiff me..." Here he is modeling the latest fashion for two-year-old boys...DRESS UP!

DAY FOUR:

Here Liam is playing with a snow globe that is plastic, cracked on the top because he dropped it, missing two out of its three feet and incredibly sentimental. When my grandparents Sassano moved out of there house and we all (all five of their kids and seventeen of their grandkids) helped, we got to pick some special keepsakes. I chose this little snowglobe that I remembered coming out for many, many Christmases past. When you wind it up, it plays Jingle Bells and a little train goes into a hillside tunnel and out again.

DAY FIVE:

Elena is growing up to be a complex and bewildering little girl. I love this picture because she hardly ever lets me photograph her anymore. I love this picture because you can almost see her complexity. I love this picture because it appears as if I am slightly amused by her, while also being confused and in awe of her...all true.

Day One of a New Adventure...

1/365, originally uploaded by Kikigill.

I have started a little photo project, just for fun. I am going to be uploading one photo to my flickr account and facebook account daily. It's called a 365 project...I will be attempting to keep it going the whole year...fun undertaking!! Stay tuned.

The first picture begins in optimism...taking flight. We have lift off...

Funny Liamisms...

Has it really been a month since I last wrote? Wow...bad me! Holidays took their toll. Then, there was the Thanksgiving-contracted bronchial cold that ended in antibiotics for all three of us. Argh...much better now. Ready to start 2009 off right, healthier at least.

So, onto bigger and better things. Let's see...under the header of a general update, both kids enjoyed Christmas, are growing like weeds and driving me crazy (when they are not cracking me up). Liam has had a language explosion. Not only has it been words he has been acquiring, but also teasiness and sarcasm. This child is F-U-N-N-Y!!!! Here's just a sampling:

"Mommy, wike it! Mommy, I WUB (love) it down here..." (playing with his penis while sitting on the toliet).

"Grammy MAD at me...Mommy MAD at me, toooooooo...Auntie Cate MAD at me toooooo....all da people MAD at me!!!" (after he kept incessantly putting a golfball in his mouth after being incessantly told NOT to put said golfball into his mouth!)

Last night, Liam sat on the potty for the first time. He asked to! I thought it was a stall tactic (and very well could have been). First, after about ten minutes, he peed. I was ecstatic. I jumped up and down and cheered. He shouted, "Yay!" He then asked me to leave the bathroom..."NOT DONE MOMMY! POOP ON POTTY MOMMY" So, I left. I folded some laundry, came back in five minutes, and lo and behold big old poop in the potty!

COORAY!! (to quote Elena)

Danger, Danger

For Christmas this year, we are trying to think of things Liam cannot use to kill himself flying 60 mph down our driveway. The other day, I looked outside and had one of those loving moments...there was my dad walking down the hill to pick up the newspaper at 8 am and there was little Liam trundling behind. Dad wasn't even aware that he was being followed. So, there was one big, tall man silhouette and one tiny little boy silhouette. Very cute.

Then Liam hopped on his tricycle and started riding instead of walking. I was at the window watching as he caught the hill and started flying with his feet up. He started doing that thing where bike tips up on one wheel and then on the other
as he attempted to steer gently, but he is two so he does not really understand gentle.

And then...snowball of Liam and bike...That was when my dad finally noticed Liam was following him. I stood at the window, mouth agape as my father went and scooped up my little sobbing boy and comforted him. It's good to live here with my mom and dad. This communal living...it's good for my kids.

Would Ya Believe??

In the midst of getting my computer fixed by HP/Compaq and this exact thing is happening again...Shipping stuff to an address at which I haven't lived for three years. GRRRRRRRRR....

Suzy Chapstick in Action...

To please my handful of readers....



Suzy Chapstick

There is a Balm...

Have you ever taken your two-year-old out to eat at a restaurant? If your answer is yes, you will immediately know what I mean when I say there are certain behaviors that you will do almost anything to stop in a restaurant environment: nose picking, fighting, kicking, throwing food, and using non-indoor voices are some of my kids' favorites. Liam HAS to be strapped in. So much so, that if a restaurant doesn't have an appropriate tether on its high chair, I have been known to whip off my belt, sweatshirt or sock to tie him to his seat. He is really pretty good when restrained, when not restrained, all bets are off.

Last night, at our local burger joint he was restrained and actually fairly well behaved. He was loud, but so was the place. He was crazy, but so were all of the other kids in the frenetic atmostphere. He was not using his indoor voice, but neither were most of the men watching the Jets game. We sort of blended in. It was nice.

We had to wait forty minutes or so for a table and used up most of our energy running around on the outside patio in the cold. I had taken the kids hiking earlier in the day, also serving to tire them out. This worked well for my daughter who calmly colored her horse-themed placemat. Liam, however, is like me. When he gets more and more tired, he gets more and more hyper.

It wasn't until our meal came (WAYYYY after the kids had eaten most of and grown tired of their chicken tenders) that I realized we were going to have to come up with a new diversion for (now) shrieking Liam. I rummaged in my purse to see if I had anything of interest. I noticed Liam's lips looked a bit chapped and figured I could donate a fruit-flavored Chapstick to the cause. I pulled out the tube, took off the cap, cranked it up a teensy bit (without him seeing how I did it) and handed it to him.

He gave it a sniff. He gave it a lick. He started applying the stick. It was a bit of a tinted variety, so within a minute or two, he was sporting rosy cheeks, lips and chin. He wasn't exactly able to keep within the lines, nor did he want to. What he DID want to do was NEVER EVER let that tube of Chapstick go. For, I kid you not, the next half hour, he was silent. Silently applying his balm. He had the most serious face on, like it was his job. Fish lips, tongue and teeth all got into the act. We left the restaurant happy and well-fed...me without indigestion and Liam without a hint of chapped skin anywhere on the top half of his body and a fruity-smelling, waxy, pink clown face.

Quick Halloween Funny

Elena spent yesterday morning working on a little "project" with a napkin, a stuffed zebra and some scotch tape. This was, coincidentally, right after we had been talking about her fawn costume and how we were going to make it for Halloween. Apparently, this conversation inspired her. She produced this:



So, this morning she asked me if I saw how her zebra was dressed up for trick-or-treating. I said yes. She smiled. Realizing her mood was right for me to ask, and yes I have to take a mood reading often with her, I asked her, "What is the zebra's costume?" She looked at me like I had two and a half heads and said condescendingly, "Mommmmmmmmmmmmm!! A napkin!" (which, to make it even cuter she pronouced nakkin).

I just love how literal she is. I mean, the zebra was clearly covered in pasted on napkin pieces...Mom, how dumb are you that you don't know a napkin costume when you see one?

Christmas Card Season

I have to confess to being a weirdo on many counts. This particular fall season I have created is no exception. Starting as soon as the leaves begin to fall off their branches, it becomes Christmas Card Season around here. Since Elena was born, I have started planning outfits and backdrops at the very instant the weather changes. Since I now have two subjects, I have to take hundreds of photos before I catch the ONE.

The ONE where everyone is not looking away, running away or fighting. The ONE where all the photographic elements are balanced: composition, contrast, focus and color. The ONE where the lighting is just right, smiles dawn across both angelic faces and the venue, well, perfect. Perhaps I aim too high...Below are the actual cards over the years and some outakes of the, literally, HUNDREDS of photos dedicated to this cause.






And here are some of my favorites from the kick off of the 2008 season:

Diet Coke

My son has a new love. I regret the day I ever gave him a tiny sip of my Diet Coke, because now no one within a ten mile radius opening a soda is safe. He will come running, tongue wagging to beg like a dog at your side, "Diet Coke! Diet Coke! Diet Coke! Sip! Sip! Sip!" The first few sips seemed harmless enough. And then there were the times when we were travelling in the car and had no other toy, but a near empty Diet Coke can. Did you know this is a great toy for a two-year-old? They love to eat the pull tab, cut their lip on the opening and spill soda all over themselves...it's really great.

The obsession has started to pervade all aspects of our life. He often rejects water, sobbing for Diet Coke. When we go walking we pass numerous streams and brooks that have dark-looking water...you guessed it, he thinks these are streams of Diet Coke. Just yesterday, he woke me up in the morning by calling Diet Coke pathetically (and loudly) over the monitor. Guess he was thirsty. Weird kid...

The TV is Skipping

This little story gives a little bit of visibility into the relationship between my children. Although, over the last year, it has greatly improved, my two children are not the most compatible or happiest of siblings. My dreams of hand-holding lovebugs flew out the window a long time ago. I live in a more realistic world now. Anyhow, on to the story...

For the last few weeks, the cable has been skipping. There seems to be some minor, intermittent interference with certain channels, Sprout being one of them. When it first happened, it disturbed Elena immensely and she made me explain all about satellite transmission and cable reception. Finally, I just summed it up by saying, "The TV is skipping." She would then announce loudly that the TV was, AGAIN, skipping all the time.

A week or so later, Liam had picked up on this. Now, when the TV skipped, the scene unfolded like this:

TV: skip skip skip

Liam: tee-bee skip-ping, tee-bee skip-ping (I haven't mentioned this before, but he does repeat everything twice, which is a bit odd)

Elena [flying in from other room]: NO WEEUM! DON'T TELL ME IT'S SKIPPING! STOP IT!!! (no clue why it bugs her so, but it REALLY bugs her, sometimes she would even smack him or shove him...sigh)

Liam [looking shocked and trailing off]: skipppp...

Mommy [entering room, looking perturbed]: What is the problem? Why can't he say what he wants? Why can't you let him notice that the TV is skipping? [then she walks out muttering and berating herself for getting involved when she knows she shouldn't]

So, that scene has repeated dozens of times in the last month, with me becoming more numb to it and getting less and less involved and Liam getting smart enough to keep his mouth shut about the TV skipping...

This morning, Elena was upstairs and no where near. The TV skipped and I watched Liam, alone in the room, to see him react to it. I waited through about four skips before I said to him, "Hey, is that TV skipping?" (am I an instigator? maybe...) What was his reaction?

"NO MOMMY!!!! STOP IT!!! NO! STOP IT!"
Guess he's picked up a little something from his sister, huh?

More on Mailboxes

Well, we all know about about Liam's mailbox obsession. It's still going strong. When we walk, we pass a cricket mailbox (crooked mailbox) and a beebee mailbox (baby mailbox, which is just one that is shorter than the one beside it, which of course is the momma mailbox), there are many broken mailboxes, any empty post is a goggone mailbox (all gone mailbox) and mailboxes of various colors. It's like a mailbox expo.

This past week, he cracked me up with his latest mailbox descriptor. We walked by a birdhouse on a post. This was one of those little houses that was quite elaborate and looked like a small Victorian house. He spied it and got excitedly shrill. "CUCKOO MAILBOX!!!!!!! CUCKOO MAILBOX!!!!" I had to think about that one for a minute. What the heck was he talking about? AH HA! Any box on a post was a mailbox and since this one was a cute little house, it looked like a cuckoo clock to him...hence CUCKOO MAILBOX...I explained that that was not a mailbox, but a birdhouse. So, he amended, in his cute way (interspersing the word hess (yes) into the sentence), "Hess, cuckoo birdhouse, hess."

Liam's Language

I just adore some of the language interpretations of the toddler stage. Liam is at that stage now. Here are some of my favorites:

dipprent = different - When we are walking, Liam will talk about going the wong way, the wight way, this way or a dipprent way.

wainboat = rainbow - Interesting story about this one, last week I was putting Liam down for his nap and Liam was talking about the "wainboat in sky"...there was a CD positioned so it was refracting a rainbow on his ceiling. I pulled down the shade and still the rainbow remained. It was being created by the sliver of light that was sneaking in from the side of the shade and creating a beautiful wainboat on his ceiling!

twactu = tractor - Liam has a book about Tractor Mac who holds a starring role in Liam's life as of late. He is OBSESSED!

beabs = beads - Mommy is obsessed with beading and Liam likes to help. "Help beabing...do beabing?"

He's also passing into that lovely age of specificity...moving from just car, to race car, Jeep, Mini Cooper, Bolbo (Volvo - SOOO cute) or from all construction vehicles being "tractus" to back hoes, diggers, steamwollers, et al.

It's just so neat to watch them acquire language!

Highly Sensitive

So, when Patrick and I first started dating, he was reading a book called The Highly Sensitive Person. This was a prophetic moment for my relationship with him. He was, indeed, highly sensitive (in temperament). I should have read that book cover to cover, but I didn't. I skimmed. Now, I have had his children and it appears our daughter favors his temperament.



So, I went to the Highly Sensitive Child Website and took the Highly Sensitive Child inventory. I had to practically RUN out and buy the book. Holy crap. This child is highly, highly sensitive. On the inventory and she scored a twenty-two out of twenty-three possible! So, what does this mean for parenting her? For raising her? For her challenges in life? I think this excerpt from the website sums it up best:

So, what now?
First, appreciate that this is a wonderful trait. It is no illness or syndrome. Nor is it something new I made up or "just discovered." It is an inborn temperament or style that is found in about twenty percent of children and of nearly all animals. Anything so persistent is not abnormal. It represents a strategy of taking everything into account before acting (the other, more common innate strategy is to act quickly and be first, then think later). The trait serves an important purpose for the individual sensitive person and for the larger society--for example, sensitive persons sense danger and see the consequences of an action before others do.

Unfortunately, the trait has been somewhat misunderstood in our culture, so that most psychologists and parents tend to see only one aspect of some sensitive children and call this trait shyness, inhibitedness, fearfulness, fussiness, or "hyper" sensitivity. If one could see inside the mind of a sensitive child, however, one would learn the whole story of what is going on--creativity, intuition, surprising wisdom, empathy for others...

But, for all of that to blossom, they absolutely must be raised with understanding. Otherwise, as adults they are prone to depression, anxiety, and shyness.

So, the second "what now" might be to read The Highly Sensitive Child. I wrote this book because so many adults were telling me that their childhoods were excruciatingly difficult, even when their parents had the best intentions, because no one knew how to raise them. Parents and teachers told them there were "too sensitive" or "too shy" or "too intense." They tried to change and could not, and so felt increasingly isolated or ashamed. My hope is to spare some children such unnecessary suffering and the world the waste of so much talent, because HSCs have a tremendous amount to offer the world. But they do need special handling. They need to be appreciated, to have their special needs and sometimes intense reactions and behaviors understood, and, when correction is needed, they need to be handled with special care so that they do not become anxious or ashamed of their failure.

This book is rooted in years of my experience as a psychotherapist and consultant to HSPs and parents of HSCs, plus interviews with parents, teachers, and HSCs themselves for the book. Then there are my experiences from my fumbling efforts to raise an HSC before I knew what that was. And there's what I know from having been an HSC myself.

Again, few parents and teachers understand this trait-–and as a result, HSCs are often mislabeled as "problem children" (and in some cases, misdiagnosed with disorders such as Attention Deficit Disorder). But raised with proper understanding and care, HSCs are no more prone to problems than nonsensitive children and can grow up to be happy, healthy, unusually well-adjusted and creative adults.

I Drink Alone

So, last night over dinner, my family had an interesting discussion about "drinking alone" vs. "drinking socially." A lot of people maintain that drinking alone is not a good sign, that it points to some sort of alcohol problem. After having lived with an alcoholic for years who drank alone for reasons foreign to me (and all of the non-alcoholics I know), I think drinking alone is not always a bad sign.

My sister brought up the point that being single women, as we both are, drinking a glass or two of wine at night alone should be fine. I mean, should we have to wait to be in a relationship to be able to have a relaxing glass of wine at the end of the day? If a married couple wants to share a glass or two of wine over dinner, it's completely accepted. However, if a single woman wants to sit by herself and drink a glass or two of wine, it's vilified, or a sign of a real problem. Consider the alternative, spending four times as much a glass for wine, risking driving while (even slightly) impaired, and drinking alone at a bar.

Weigh in...what do you think?

Skidding Out

Sometimes, when parenting, I feel like I am skidding. I think skidding is the perfect analogy because it connotes the lack of control I feel. I like to remind myself that, like a skid, it is a temporary situation. When the kids are horrid, or I cannot deal, or I want to lock them (or me) in a room in time-out...those situations are temporary. After a short period of time, things right themselves again and straighten out.

Citizen's Arrest

On Wednesday when I was out walking, I saw a suspicious van on a dead end street with out-of-state plates, and I thought...hmmmmmmm, that's a bit odd and seems out of place, and walked on. But, then saw it again on another circular street. So I called 911 from my cell....I was thinking of myself of a sort of neighborhood watch, even though it was not technically my neighborhood.

So, the police told me they were sending over a cruiser. They called me back when they had found the vehicle and pulled them over and so I walked on my merry way. All of a sudden I noticed there had been a phonebook delivery, all along my walking route, since I had first walked by. So, I felt like a total idiot for getting these poor, pathetic souls in trouble.

I got home and was making a hamburger dinner and the police called me again to thank me for calling in and to tell me that the guys were unlicensed drivers and they had to tow the vehicle. Now, who the hell takes a job delivering phone books with NO LICENSE? I feel bad, because they looked like (as much as one can look like one) immigrants...now, they will probably be deported and all they wanted to do was take care of their little kids by delivering phone books!!!! Argh!

Costco Ridiculousness

Those of you who have read my blog for years, know my dyspepsia for all things poor in customer service. This week, it is Costco's turn. The other day, my friend Ketra and I took the kids to Costco on her membership. When we were ringing out, she attempted to use her debit card. The debit card has a Visa logo on it, which Costco doesn't take, but they do take debit cards...so, she swiped her card. Now, for the last week or so, she has been dealing with the fact that her debit card has lost its mojo...its swipe is gone.

She thinks it had a run-in with a magnet somewhere, but it no longer works as a convenient method of payment. Stores across Connecticut have been forced to retreat to 1988 to process her card, pulling out carbon impression machines and typing in numbers by hand. It's been a real pain. The bank, Bank of America of course, is very in tune with her challenge and is only making her wait TEN days for a new card, but that's neither here nor there, this is not a blog about BofA (been there done that). This is about Costco.

So, there we are at the check-out at Costco, we explain that the strip is defunct on the card we want to use and ask if they can simply type the numbers in. In a word, "no." No, we cannot type the numbers in...which wouldn't have peeved us if it hadn't been for the reasoning. No, we cannot enter the numbers manually on this card because we do not take Visa. Um...whaaaaaat???? It's a debit card! It just has a dead strip. Instead of inputting the data via a magnetic kiss with a swipe machine, we want you to enter the code. Escalation occurs to the managers and it is confirmed. Nope. Cannot do it. That Visa logo, which usually serves to make the debit card more useful, has in this case, rendered it useless.

The explanation centered around a specific exclusivity agreement with American Express. I understand that Marketing and Business Development are important pursuits, but to the exclusion of customer service and satisfaction? In my world, that's not right.

So, I write this blog, specifically addressing it to James D. Sinegal and Joseph P. Portera of Costco to ask their help in fixing this problem. In this day and age, when we have learned to rely on our plastic debit cards, there has to be another alternative for situations like this. Please?

Redhaired Challenges

Capricious.
Petulant.
Easily upset.
Sensitive.
Creative.
Messy.
Articulate.
Precocious.
Inquisitive (to a fault).
Advanced.
Snotty.
These are some of the words I would use to describe my sweet little Laney Lou. As you can see, they run the gamut. Some days, it's "Mommy, I love you so, so much and I love spending time with you!!" Minutes later it's, "Mommy. I. WANT. TO. BE. BY. MYSELF. WITHOUT. YOU. GO. AWAY!" It's exhausting and scary.

Tonight, she said from the back of the car, "Mommy, who was that on the phone, was it Grammy?"

I said, "Yes, how did you know?"

She said, "I could tell by that bossy little voice."

I said (snickering), "Grammy's?"

She said, "No yours..."

She does crack us up regularly! Last week she told my mother who is early childhood educated, in a voice that appeared to be without emotion, "Grammy. I don't think you're very good at taking care of children." HAHAHAHA!! All because my mother had lost her temper, ever so briefly, with Elena.

It's just very hard to be the mother, and grandmother, and brother, and grandfather, and father of a spirited little redheaded four-year-old.

Wish us luck.

Send us prayers.

I Love Two-Year-Olds

I love it when my kids are starting to cobble together language. Liam is starting to migrate from a noun-only vocabulary to one that leapfrogs from adjective to verb to noun. An example?

Where he used to say: truck, truck! beep! beep!
He now says: beeping sound! truck backing up?

Where he used to say: mailbox! mailbox!
He now says: uh oh! broken mailbox! oh! another one mailbox!

It's so cute!

Broken Mailbox, Wrong Way, Beeping, Pees Car, Fire Tuck, Trash, Yick...

My walks with Liam continue to be punctuated by his observations. All things wheeled or mechanical are of particular interest. We think he has a career in civil engineering. Seems the mailbox obsession has morphed into his recently accepting a position as a mailbox inspector.

Black maillllllbox
White mailllllbox
Green maillllbox
Grey mailllbox
Uh oh....broken mailbox...

A broken mailbox is any mailbox not in pristine shape, rusty, crooked, bent, dinged, or (and this was funny) just a 4x4 sticking out of the ground is a broken mailbox. Apparently any post must have HAD a mailbox on it in Liam's world.

New to the vocab is the phrase "wrong way" (thank you, Ketra). So now, when we are walking, if we turn off the straightaway, I hear a nervous voice from behind me, "Uh oh...wong way...wong way..." Very cute (for now).