Out of the mouth of my Babe

Yesterday while playing on top of the swing set: "Mama, this is my castle! Oh. Hmmm. Where is my prince? I no see my prince, Mom."


An Easter package arrived for Addie two days ago from Gramma Kathy. When she opened it her eyes got real wide and said: "Aaaahh. Isn't that nice? Isn't that SO nice, Mama?".



Earlier this week while peeing she stood up and turned around to face the potty and said: "Mommy, I do it like this. I peepee like Saint Nicholas* and Daddy."







*Saint Nicholas is her little buddy in the neighborhood. His name is Nicholas, but she insists on calling him Saint Nicholas.





Just about everyday, six times a day: "I do it by MYSELF Mom. By MYself." Most of the time, few minutes later, "Mammmmaaaa, HEELLLP."




Playing in the back yard with our friend Max, in her "castle": "Max, I a princess. You my prince. Mommy! Look! My prince!"

Hope For Tomorrow

It's true, tomorrow is always another day.
And in my case, it wasn't just another day - it was a better day. A wonderful day.

Today was not marked with threats or raised voices. I did not get hit, spit on or kicked. I got hugs, tons of kisses and multiple requests of "Mama, you hold me".
Uh, okay. I would love to hold you, you polar opposite child of yesterday, are you here to stay?

Today she peed on the potty and only had one accident, which she was sad about. Today she said excuse me, I love you, please, thank you and you're welcome. Today she listened and barely argued and demonstrated some patience.
Today she played with her friends, shared her cookies and didn't tattle. Most importantly, today she napped...

******************************************************************

She and I chatted in the car on the way to exercise class tonight and she was telling me that her friend Max is "a big, good boy", and her friend Maddie is "a good girl and nice". Then she told me that I was a "good lady. You a real good lady Mommy".
I replied with a thank you and then I asked if I was a good Mommy. I know, I know - dumb move.

She thought for a second and then said "No. No you no good Mommy. You good lady, mama. Not good Mommy".

For KahRen and Jeafen and Christie (and Carolyn too)

Karen and Jeafen found Addison's obsession with Beauty and The Beast a bit beyond entertaining. It wasn't so much that she loved the movie, as it was that she repeatedly, with heart, called it Boobies.

She's improved her speech pattern over the past few weeks and now calls it Bleauty and A Beast.

Unfortunately for me she is now mixing up the words peanuts and penis. I am mortified that she knows the word penis; impressed that can tell you that boys have them; and praying she won't talk too much about them in public.
However, at Thanksgiving she told Jeafen that "Ry Ry has peanuts" and today after spotting the peanut jar on the table she shouted to me "Mama! Addie want PENIS. Addie have penis Mama?".

Awesome. And by awesome, I mean crap.

TwoYearOld

In high school I took French and Latin.

French because I thought it was pretty and romantic and kinda cool. I was a solid B student, and once while traveling abroad in college I managed to eke out a three minute conversation in French with a Greek. I was impressed with myself.

Latin because I thought it would be helpful for my pre-med plans in college, and, oddly, Latin was kinda cool in my high school, which I think was due to the awesome woman who taught it. I passed Latin and all I really remember to this day is : Agricola, Agricolae, Agricolarum. And obviously it really helped my pre-med education, since I dropped that concentration about two weeks into the first semester of freshman year.
The point being: I've been exposed to foreign language un poco.

But now, NOW, I have a doctorate in foreign language. The language that I am fluent in? Not French, not Latin, obviously not Spanish. Nope, I am fluent in TwoYearOld.
TwoYearOld is a very complicated language that involves many dialects. My education in TwoYearOld may differ greatly from your education, but we both may be experts. The dialect of TwoYearOld that I am best versed in involves:

• Most words missing the final sound or having an over pronounced final sound. IE: English speakers say or-an-ge; TwoYearOld speakers say or-ansh. Or English speakers say milk; TwoYearOld speakers say milkchk.
• Animals are often identified only by the noises they make. IE: Snakes = ssssss. Monkeys = ooohoooohoooohaaaahaaah. Lions, Tigers, Panthers = roar. Dogs = ruffruff. Birds = tweettweettweet. Horses = neigh.
• There are words that are hard to pronouce, that should be easy, such as: water (lawter). And there are words that are easy to pronounce, that should be hard, such as: purple and Barbara.

In my particular dialect of TwoYearOld most everything is a question. Such as:

• What Daddy do, Mommy?
• What kitty do, Mommy?
• What Addie do, Mommy?
• Outside, Mommy?
• Treat milkchk, Mommy?
• Mommy, cows? Mommy, sheep? Mommy, neigh???

I find myself having to translate to most people who are unfamiliar with our particular language, or who have been out of constant exposure to TwoYearOld for over 24 months.

I have to say things like: No. No she doesn't want to brush her teeth, she wants a breakfast treat. Or: No. No she wasn't a Barbie for Halloween, she was a bumblebee.

I have to translate that the orangutans were shy, or the choo-choo train was broken, or the polar bears were sleeping. I have to translate that Aunt Kimmie gave her a haircut, or that her kitty has a booboo. I have translate that what she is saying is Beauty and The Beast not boobies. I still have to tell you that jayjay is vagina, but clear as day you can understand her when she says penis. I know that when she enthusiastically says twoweehigh, she means onetwothreefourfive.

So, really, I am fluent in TwoYearOld.

But last night Aunt Kimmie had to inform me that the word that I had been translating as stop (as in: Stop Kitty! or Stop Mama!) was actually SHUT UP.

Stop. Shut up. Hmmmm.

I guess I need some after-school tutoring if I am going to ace this course.

Sweetness

Much of the past month or two seems to have rushed by in a blur. Travel. Car. Sit. Parent. Travel. Car. Sit. Parent. Lion King. Car. Clean. Cook dinner. Playtime. Story time. Travel. Doctor visits. Car. Sit. Clean. Temper tantrum. TIME OUT.

Most of the moments that I have strung together have been punctuated with what the world calls The Terrible Twos.

There has been spitting and kicking. There has been hitting and shrieking. There have been endless, unnecessary tears. There has been a non-stop chorus of No and More and Mine, all mushed together in a cacophony of whines.

There have been many moments where I have looked at my gray-eyed, sweet-faced little girl and wondered Will I ever survive this??

That has been the past month or so. And then there have the past few days.

In the past few days I have gazed at my gray-eyed, sweet-faced little girl and thought How lucky am I? How sweet and marvelous is she?



She has been doling out hugs and kisses. She has been flinging her arms around my neck and nuzzling me and whispering Mama, pretty.
She has gone running to her grandmothers, to her aunts, to me arms outstretched, begging for hugs. She has eaten her meals with minimal coaxing and hardly a complaint. She has woken up with smiles and laughter. She is chitchattering all day ~ naming colors, animals, places, people. She is asking questions and sharing and taking turns. She is a freaking rainbow.



And I know that it isn't going to last. I know that the chaos is just being hidden behind the cuteness. And I. DON'T. CARE. These past few days have made me think:

Maybe, just maybe, I will survive this.

Maybe, just maybe, I am a little good at this.

Maybe, just maybe, my gray-eyed, sweet-faced little girl is here to stay.



I just jinxed it, didn't I?

I think this neatly sums it all up.

*Sorry she's so camera shy and unwilling to perform.

** Her "What Mommy Says" shtick is compliments of an afternoon with Aunts Kimmie and Nikki. Remind me to find new babysitters.

No. NOOOOO. No. NO. NOOO.

I believe that it was around this time last year that I had a flurry of food posts. I wrote endlessly about what Addison liked, disliked, gulped down or spit out. I feel I am about to be in another themed place, only this time it is words.

I love hearing her figure out new words and I think that it is hysterical that when she is trying to keep herself awake she'll practice her words over and over. She chats to me in the car, she chats on one of her 42 cell phones. She talks the kitty's ears off.

Some of the latest additions to her lexicon are: pink, white, purple, blue, Elmo, outside, shower, swing, sock, chalk, car, truck, choo choo, pee pee, thank(you), book, baby and cheese.

She also is getting good at repeating names when we tell them to her. With our plethora of visitors over the past month she can now say Steve, Kate and Mike. She also has the Ka of Karen. By the end of next week, and my mom and aunt's visit, I have the sneaking suspicion that she'll have some version of Janet learned and be sixty steps closer to saying Gramma.

She is stringing together some words: Go Kitty Go! No RyRy No! Chalk outside. BUBBLES BATH! Go car. And her favorite as of late:

NO MAMA.

Whoa boy...I feel like the new RyRy.

I get told NO so much that I am starting to have flashbacks to middle school and asking my mom if I could DO ANYTHING. (Her response 99 percent of the time was "NO. You're grounded." My response to her response was usually something that got me grounded for even longer. It was a vicious, vicious cycle.)

Over the past several days pretty much anything I ask Addison is met with an immediate NO even though half the time she means YES.

Addison, do you want some milk? NO.

Addison, do you want to get ready for class? NO.

Addison, did you poo your pants? NO.

Addison, would you like some sausage? NO.

Addie, are you ready for ni-night? NO.

Really, I could just keep going, but I think you get the point. But in case you don't, let me drive it home with this one:

Addie, can Mommy have a kiss ni-night? NO.

Addie, please? NO NO NO.

Addie, that's not nice. Can Mommy please have a kiss? NOOOOO.

And, truly, only about fifty percent of the time do I get a booger smeared kiss.

Ouch.

Apparently, when she says no, she means it.

Just wait for tomorrow when she says:

Mama, chalk? NO.*

Mama, bubbles? NO.**

Mama, chocolate? NO***

HA! Take that! I'm tough too, little lady.

*Translate: Of course, if it's not too rainy or cold.

**Translate: Of course, it makes you so happy.

***Translate: HELL NO. It's mine.

Word of the Week (or last four weeks)

I had always figured that the word I would first want to eradicate from Miss Thang's vocabulary would be NO.

Trust me it is a word that I hear hundreds of times a day. Sometimes she is telling me doesn't want to have her diaper changed. Sometimes she is telling me that she doesn't want waffles for breakfast, or eggs, or oatmeal, or a banana. Sometimes she is telling me that she doesn't want to get in the car, go to the store, put on her shoes, wear a barrette, hold her cup. Sometimes she is telling the cat that she doesn't not want her in the same room or on her blanket or breathing. Sometimes she is telling Rylan that she doesn't want to share, or Gramma that she isn't interested in talking on the phone.

Sometimes she just says NO over and over, in different tones, different pitches, different volumes. Sometimes NO is a statement. Sometimes it's a question. Sometimes it is her way of tattling on herself.

This is all to say I hear NO more than I care to count.

But NO doesn't hold a candle to BUBBLES.

There have been days when every utterance incorporates the word bubbles.

She has asked for bubbles first thing in the morning.

Last thing in the evening. During lunch.

On our way to Target. Playing on the slide.

Going 70 miles per hour down I75 to pick up Aunt Nikki...Bubbles, bubbles, BUBBLES.

Occasionally it is posed as a sweet question: Bubbles, mama?

Occasionally it is posed as a threat: BuBBLES! BuBBLEs. BuBBLEs!

Once in awhile it is an after thought: Bubbles?

More often than not, it is a deep, relentless desire: Bubbles. Mama, bubbles. Bub.Bles. Peas, bubbles? Bubbles.

I usually give in. We blow bubbles outside. She takes bubble baths. I fill the sink up with bubbles and she splashes - and all is right in her 20 month old universe.

Bubbles. Bubbles. BUB.BLES. PEAS!!! Mama?? Mama. MaaaaMaaa? Bubbles!

Add this to the word count

I thought, when I first heard her say this, I was just imagining it. Then when we went to Gramma's house, she said it again. But no, there was no way my kid was recognizing this person and saying his name. No way.

Then on Monday, before heading back down to Cinci, we went to breakfast at Tweet with Michael, Kah-ren, Jill and BK. Quick aside here, um, YUM! Super yummy and super cool little place that bends over backward to accommodate little diners, worth the effort to find parking on Sheridan Road.
High up on the wall at Tweet is a framed portrait, for sale by the artist, of The President of the United States. Addison was sitting at the table, facing the entry way, munching on bananas and coloring, when she suddenly looked up, pointed and said, clear as freaking day, "Baar-wock".

I thought my dining companions were going to fall off their chairs.

Girl genius? Of course.
The future of the DNC? Quite possible.

Words

Addison is getting chattier and chattier these days and really wants her voice to be heard. Today while at StrollerFit I was on my second set of 20 throw-downs, which I kind of love and sort of hate, when she decided I wasn't paying quite enough attention to what she was babbling by my side. She decided to just plop down on my tummy and continue her conversation.
I continued to grunt and sweat and wish I was remotely in shape while she sat comfortably on me, bouncing up and down, pointing to my face and saying "noe-se", "eyes", "mouf" oh-so-proudly. I was proud of her, but unable to express that to her, being that I was on the verge of death.

Each day she is trying figure out and use new words, here is what we hear most often (over and over and over):
Ball, Kitty, Mama, Dada, PawPaw, Maaa (Gramma), GG, NO, Go, More, Milk, Please, Bubbles, Balloon, Yellow, Up, Juice, Bye, Belly, Nose, Eyes, Ears, Mouth, Nemo, Baby, Man, Lady, Car, Shoes, Boots, Down, Bath, Hot, Banana.

She also has a slew of names: Ryry (Rylan), Lee (Elise), Mimmie (Aunt Kimmie), Bra (Uncle Brian), Ni (Aunt Nikki), Na (Genna?), and....this is almost unbelievable....Berr (Berto).
Seriously? Berto? Yep.

The three words that she MOST loves these day, I can't decide if I am dismayed or proud, are: Poo, Toot, Burp. She really loves figuring out whether she just pooed or tooted. It's one of her favorite games.
Such a lady.

One more strike against the Grandmas

This was my father's first week of chemo therapy. He will be having chemo every week for the next 6 months. I know, WHAT?
It's a lot of chemo, but he opted to participate in a drug trial and therefore every other week will be getting a six hour drip of chemo, and on the opposite weeks he will be getting a two hour drip. His spirits seem good, although Wednesday he told me that the whole process was a pain in the balls. I told him that I'd rather have his balls be uncomfortable for awhile than he be dead. Appropriate? No.
True? Yes.

So, I checked back in with him today to see how he was doing...TIRED. I can't imagine the kind of tired he is feeling, and I've lived through the infancy of a child. The reason I am even sharing this with you is because when I got off the phone with him I said to Addison "That was Grampa and he is really tired".
I often tell Addie who I was on the phone with, and at times tell her what the conversation was about (basically, if I told you that I could keep your secret, I probably lied. I most likely divulged your confidence to my 18 month old.).
She looked at me with that all knowing look that she has and said "Paw Paw".

So I did my normal quiz of her:
What does a kitty cat say? Meow
What does a cow say? Moo
What does a lion say? Roar
And so on and so with all her animals, then I asked:
Can you say Mommy? Mama
Can you say Daddy? Dada
Can you say GG? Gee Gee
Can you say Grampa? Paw Paw

When we got home, before her nap, I showed her a picture that sits on her dresser of her baptism of the three of us with Dad and Kathy. I pointed to me, she said Mama. I pointed to Andy, she said Dada. I pointed to Dad, she said Paw Paw.

I showed her pictures of her Grandmothers...not a word.

So, Paw Paw, you might be darn tired...but someone is bound and determined to make you smile.