Ballderdash

Kindergarten Recess

2010-09-14T14:37:00.001-07:00

"How was kindergarten today?"
"Uh, good."
"What did you do at recess?"
"Oh, not much. I just rethinked my life."
"Does your life need a lot of rethinking?"
"Well, not being with Yonatan and Simon makes me feel lonely."

Published with Blogger-droid v1.5.9

Road safety tips

2010-07-09T20:53:00.000-07:00

"Driving a car is basically like riding a bicycle," Nathan asserted as we drove home after riding bikes in the park. Life is a little simpler from the seven-year-old perspective.

"Kind of, although it's a lot more complicated," I said.

"Yeah," piped in Michael. "Because you can get pulled over by driving too fast in a car, but you can't get pulled over by riding too fast on your bike, can you?"

I had to laugh. "No, I don't think so."

He continued. "Basically, if you don't want to get arrested, it's safest to walk."

There you have it: traffic safety tips from a five-year-old.

The Puwoah

2009-08-21T07:16:00.001-07:00

"Daddy, whewe's the puwoah?" Michael asked me.

"Puwoah?" I repeated, hoping to gain insight by saying the word myself. But to no avail.

"Yes, the puwoah," he repeated. Evidently he hoped I would gain insight if he repeated it, but still nothing came to me.

Our beloved housemate, Karen, happened to be in the room at the time, and since she also happens to have a gift for decoding the speech of young children, I looked at her, hoping for enlightenment. But she shrugged helplessly.

"You know, the puwoah!" Michael said, frustration building.

"Puwoah, puwoah," I said to myself. Sometimes I have better luck by eliciting more information. "What does it do?"

"It's a sip. You know, the bwack puwoah!" Clearly something everyone knows.

Suddenly, at the same time, Karen and I looked at each other. "The Black Pearl!" we said, simultaneously. Captain Jack's ship, always good for an adventure, though in this case, an adventure in early childhood linguistics.

Limerick by Susanna: Disappearing Ink

2009-06-15T21:46:00.001-07:00

There once was a girl named Pink
Who used disappearing ink.
Got poked with her quill,
Which made a big spill,
And then she was gone in a blink.

Confess: A Limerick by Susanna

2009-05-14T11:44:00.001-07:00

My daughter wrote this limerick, unaided, for a fourth-grade class assignment.

There once was a girl named Bess
Who didn't like to confess.
What happened to her
No one knew for sure.
Would you like to take a guess?

The Mystery Container

2009-05-10T10:28:00.000-07:00

"I got the Mystewy Containew!" Michael will shout on occasion, when I pick him up from preschool. Each child gets a turn in the rotation to take the container home and bring it back the next day with something in it. The child gives the class three clues and they see if anyone can guess what it is.

Earlier in the year, Michael had generated a typical set of clues. "It's brown and has a tail, it swings through trees, and it eats bananas."

But recently he's become more crafty. See if you can guess the object from one of my favorite set of clues:
1. You can't drive it.
2. It doesn't have wheels.
3. But you can read it!

Gotta Hand It To Ya

2009-05-08T11:32:00.000-07:00

"Michael, please take your things into the house," I said as we climbed out of the car, my arms already laden with water bottles, shoes, and a pile of school art, papers occasionally fluttering to the ground.

"I onwy have two hands," he said, as he grappled with three items. Last month he had pointed out, "You onwy have two hands, too. Because in ouw famiwy, we onwy have two hands."

Now he was waxing philosophical. "What if we had six hands?" He likes to speculate, and the more ridiculous, the better.

"What if we had six hands?" I asked.

Nate pitched in. "If we had six hands, we could do lots of things," he said.

"Like what?" I pressed.

"Like we wouldn't have to use our mouths to carry things."

Silver Linings

2009-05-03T08:03:00.001-07:00

"I see bwack and white cwouds," Michael said, as we climbed into the car, the two boys and me.

I put it into gear and looked at the mottled sky. "You're right," I agreed.

"Wain comes fwom the bwack cwouds, but not the white cwouds," he said. I had pointed out a few weeks ago that I thought it would rain because the clouds looked pretty dark. Now he was refining the concept one point further. "God makes it wain fwom the bwack cwouds."

Nathan was thoughtful. "They're only shadows," he said. "The black clouds are the ones that make it rain, but they're only shadows. They have too much water in them, so then they rain."

It surprises me how much a three-year-old and five-year-old think things through. I'd never thought about why some clouds were bright and some dark. "I think you're right," I said. "The sun can't shine through those clouds because there's more water in them." I suppose water vapor can vary widely in density. "How did you know that?" I asked, always curious about their sources.

"I don't know. I just knew it," he said.

These boys. I learn so much from them. What will happen when they're teens?

Quote of the Morning

2009-03-28T16:32:00.001-07:00

“I’m king. Whoever eats not their food gets a bagel. That’s what my command.” --Michael, this morning, looking at his plate of chicken, rice, applesauce and carrots from last night's dinner.

2009-02-16T10:59:00.001-08:00

I stirred, groggy. Mike had climbed onto Jen and me, still lying in bed, a full thirty minutes before we had to be up.

Now he was practically standing on us, and declared, "The greatest King of all is..."

I waited to hear the pronouncement from the 3-year-old's perspective.

"...me!"

Then he proceeded with his traditional activity of trying to squeeze in between the two of us. "King Mikey is going to squooze fwoo!" (Which is, of course, his way of saying "squeeze through.") King Mikey is going to squooze fwoo!"

It only too about ten iterations before he successfully wedged between us. Just another typical morning at the Ball household.

2009-02-16T10:52:00.000-08:00

"The B-I-B-L-E,

Yes, that's the book for me,"

sang the loudest three-year-old in the house.

"I still don't know

The Word of God,

The B-I-B-L-E!"

Jen and I looked at each other and had to laugh. "Sing it for Karen!" we requested.

So he launched in again. Sure enough, instead of singing the original, "I stand alone on the word of God," Michael substituted his own words.

He still doesn't know

the words to the song,

the B-I-B-L-E.

Identity Issues

2009-02-08T09:59:00.000-08:00

Thursday was Nathan's adoption day, commemorating the day we officially adopted him five years ago. We like to celebrate by having a few close friends over and eating a meal including foods celebrating the particular child's ethnic heritage.

"What kind of food do you want to have, Nathan?" his mom asked. "You're part Mexican, part African American, part Puerto Rican..."

"I think I'd like Orange Chicken, please, because I'm half Chinese."

Does the fact that our housemate, Karen, is Chinese, make Nathan half Chinese? Or because we are what we eat?

The same day, Michael's preschool class was discussing nicknames. "And do you have a nickname, Michael?" asked his teacher.

"My nickname is Michael 'Goof' Ball," he replied. Case closed.

Favorite Color

2009-01-27T16:14:00.000-08:00

A couple months ago, our three-year-old was playing with our housemate, Karen. Michael unexepectedly jumped from a low wall he had been climbing, and she was unable to catch him. Instead, he landed on her foot and simultanously knocked her down. My guess is that falling on her foot is what fractured the bone, and knocking her over is what tore three ligaments.

It swelled to enormous size the next day, and turned purple. She was babysitting Mike, so she just took him along to see the doctor.

While they waited, he inspected her foot. "Hey, Kawen, it's puwpwe!"

"Yes, it is purple," she answered.

"Hey--puwpwe is youw favowite cowow!" (Yes, he really talks like Tweety Bird.)

"Yes, purple is my favorite color." (Karen's very good at translating.)

"Kawen, if youws favowite cowow was owange, would youws foot be owange?"

"No, my foot wouldn't be orange, even if that was my favorite color."

"If youws favowite cowow was bwue, would youws foot be bwue?"

After about five colors, she couldn't see the end of the rainbow in sight, so she had to explain that no, it doesn't work that way.

As a parent, I think back on the whole incident grateful that at least my boy knows his colors.

2008-10-18T10:14:00.000-07:00

"I love those mountains!" I exclaimed, as we drove home from school the other day. The Santa Ana winds brought not only heat but also clarity, driving out the haze and leaving gorgeous blue skies and strong, hearty mountains visible for miles.

"You love lots of things," Nathan replied.

"Well," I said, feeling perhaps a tad defensive, "people who love lots of things have big hearts. So I am trying to love more and more things."

"I love lots of things," he said. "Things that don't kill people."

I couldn't help but smile. "That's good!"

"Like horses," he said. I looked out the window and saw that we were passing the stables around the corner from our house.

Susanna piped in. "Horses can kill people," she said. "Like with their hooves, if they stomp on someone, or fall on someone." The almost-nine-year-old perspective.

But I wanted to defend his five-year-old zeal. "Well, that's true, but horses don't usually try to kill people. It's great to love horses," I said.

Well, we're off to a 5-year-old soccer game followed by an 8- and 9-year-old soccer game. I love soccer! And on the way, I'll look for the horses and the mountains.

Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Sailor

2008-07-29T07:37:00.000-07:00

Just now, sitting and watching Dora the Explorer before breakfast, my son Mike (now 3) turned to me.

"Daddy, I want to a a pieceman (policeman) when I grow up, and have a whistle!"

"You do?" I answered.

"Yes, and stop caws (cars) and tickets."

"Oh, how come?" I asked.

"Because I want to," he said earnestly.

He's very cute. It's interesting the perspective kids have on what a certain job is about, and what it takes. Recently, he's wanted to be a garbage man and a ketchup man (your guess is as good as mine)! In fact, I muse, we all have interesting ideas about what other people's jobs take, and what they're about...president, pastor, recording artist...

Dinosaurs and Hair Follicles

2008-05-14T19:48:00.001-07:00

"Were you bald when you were a little boy, Daddy?" my little boy asked with earnest eyebrows.

I smiled. "Nope. Not until I was a man."

The two-year-old piped up. "You alweady bald, Daddy. Dat how Jesus made you."

I couldn't help but laugh. That was yesterday afternoon. This evening my five-year-old resumed the conversation.

"Daddy, were the dinosaurs extinct when you were a little boy? Or were they still alive?"

"Were the dinosaurs extinct? Well.... What do you think, Nathan?"

"Mmmm. I think... I think they were still alive when you were a little boy."

Maybe that explains how I could have become so prematurely bald. Just like Jesus made me.

Bad guys

2008-05-02T15:22:00.001-07:00

Jen's sitting on the couch with remote in hand as I write, fast-forwarding past certain scenes in The Empire Strikes Back. A running flow of commentary emanates from Nathan and Susanna, lying on their bellies in front of the tube.

From the set I hear Han Solo shout, "I'll see you in hell!"

"Oooh," says Susanna. "That's a mean thing! He should not say that. That's where Satan lives, so that's mean."

Nathan: "Why does he live there? Is he a bad guy?"

Susanna: "Uh-huh."

Nathan: "Does he do bad things to people?"

Susanna: "Yup."

Movie critic theologians. Where do they get that from?

Alter Egos

2008-05-01T23:20:00.001-07:00

"I'm oozing mine 'magination!" declared Michael to his mom the other day. A month away from turning 3, he's begun taking on other identities, remaining in character for 5 minutes or even an hour at a time.

"I'm Dr. Seuss!" I kept hearing around the house this evening. Finally I saw Michael, playing with Kennedy and Carter, friends who were visiting. Evidently all three were Dr. Seuss.

Then I smiled as it dawned on me: they were each wearing a toy stethoscope, bright yellow tubing with bright red and blue pieces hanging around their necks.

The 4-year-old also heard, and quickly took corrective steps: "Dr. Seuss isn't a doctor!" We all love to correct misguided poor saps.

"I'm Doctow Seuss!" insisted the 2-year-old.

"But he's not a doctor!" argued his brother.

"He's not?" I asked, surprised Nathen had picked up this subtlety.

"No, he's not a real doctor. He's just a man who writes books."

"You're right!" I affirmed him.

But Michael had the final word. "I'm Doctow Seuss."

Frankenstein??

2008-04-27T22:19:00.000-07:00

Sometimes kids give us a different perspective. On the way to church this morning, the almost 5-year-old chimed up: "Dad, you don't look like Frankenstein."

I just got a haircut, so I wondered if that's what triggered this response. Nathan's commented a few mornings when he's seen all my hair sticking up, "Dad, you look wierd!" So I thought maybe, perhaps, he meant I didn't look like Einstein, with my short cropped hair. So I probed a little.

"Why don't I look like Frankenstein?"

"Frankenstein has flat hair. It's black. And he's green, and you're not." Nope, I guess he really meant Frankenstein!

Maybe I should have dropped it while I was ahead, but I responded. "You're right, I'm not like Frankenstein in any of those ways!"

"No, you look zery, zery, zery, zery, zery, zery, zery old!"

To me, old = wise and mature, so I took it as a compliment. I also took it as a compliment that I don't look like Frankenstein. I think.

2008-04-20T15:21:00.001-07:00

"How old are you, Dad?" Nathan asked me this morning.

"11," I replied, to evoke a reaction.

"No, you're not 11!" he said.

"12?"

"No!"

"How old do you think I am?"

He mused. "16,000?"

I laughed. "Well, pretty close."

"Come on, how old are you really?"

"38," I replied, not trying to evoke a reaction.

"38! Wow, that's really, really, old!" he said.

I remember when I used to think the same thing.

Wait a minute!

2008-03-17T12:14:00.000-07:00

Jen was putting Nate to sleep, as is our custom, by reading him a book and then doing short prayers. We've now incorporated Susanna's idea into the routine--asking Jesus, "What do you want to say to us tonight?" We didn't know if four-and-a-half years old was too young to "get it," but...well, I'll let you judge for yourself.

Jen and Nathan had each shared the best and worst parts of their day with each other, and prayed for various friends and family members. They listened to Jesus together for a brief moment.

"Well, what do you think Jesus said?" she asked.

He looked at her with a twinkle in his eye. "I fink I heard Jesus say...'The force be with you!'"

Jen did a double-take, then saw him smiling. "Jesus didn't say that!" she laughed.

"No," he agreed. "I'm just joking. I think he said, 'I am always with you.'"

"That does sound like Jesus," she affirmed. "He is always with us."

Riddle: How is a 2-year-old like a train?

2008-03-17T12:05:00.000-07:00

"Choo-choo!" exclaimed Michael, as if were his first time seeing a real, live train. Actually, we see these same trains every week or two when we go to Grandma & Papa's house. I long for that ability to so live in the present that, like a small child, I can always enjoy my current experience as if it were my first time. But my story's gotten derailed.

"Choo-choo nigh-night," he observed. Indeed, the train was dark and sitting still on the tracks. He expanded on his point: "Dat choo-choo not going, choo-choo nigh-night. That choo-choo doe nigh-night dust wike me!"

I laughed. "Yes, the train does go to sleep, just like you." I hadn't seen if from that perspective...

How to Make Tonic

2008-03-17T11:59:00.000-07:00

All week Susanna and Nate have been running outside to make tonics. The other day I found the recipe 8-year-old Susanna had written on a neatly folded piece of lined paper, in purple marker:

How to make tonic

First, skin it.

Sec. put on tree.

Third, rubb it.

Fourth, water it

Fith, lick it

Sixth, felle better

I don't know what it cures, and I don't even know what the main ingredient is...but sounds a little scary to me.

2 Bits... (Or, More Adventures in Toddlerese)

2008-03-11T21:23:00.000-07:00

"Na-Nay's dun!" exclaimed Michael.

"Nathan has a gun?" I clarified.

"No, Na-Nay's dun!" he repeated.

"You want Nathan's gun?" I tried again. This familiar process often takes 5-10 attempts before we successfully establish the communication breakthrough.

"No! Na-Nay's . . . ummmm, Nathan's finished!" he said, trying a different tactic.

"Oh, he's DONE!" I finally got it.

"Yes!" he said, elated. That is what he had said!

2008-03-11T21:22:00.001-07:00

"Dat duck-duck-wain fowest."

"Duck-Duck-Rain forest? Is that a game you play?"

"No, dat duck-duck-wain fowest."

"Uhh...I don't know what you're saying."

"Dat dup duck wain fowest."

"Hmmm,...Where is it?" Sometimes context helps me with the decoding.

"Over dere!" Mike pointed at a large (and I do mean large) oak tree--it had a spread of about 80-90 feet.

"Oh, that's not a rain forest, that's a tree... Oh!" The light bulb went on for me. "Do you mean 'That deep dark rain forest?'"

"Yes!" Ahh, the sweet taste of victory. These are great moments for us.

Toddler Question

2008-02-17T10:42:00.001-08:00

Michael built what looked (to my naive eyes) like a tower out of megablocks.

"I need to take a pitcha!" he told me.

"Oh, is that a camera?" I asked.

"Uh-huh. How do you boot up mine tama?" he asked.

I guess these days cameras do need to be booted up--as every two-year-old knows.

Don't Bug Me

2008-02-11T07:17:00.001-08:00

Since Susanna's friend introduced us to the game, we spot VW Bugs, PT Cruisers and convertibles of every kind where ever we go. Saturday I decided to mix it up a little bit when I was driving with Susanna.

Susanna: Bug!

Me: Aaack! Where?! Is it on me? (Slapping at my back and shoulders) I hate bugs!!

Susanna (laughing): Dad! You're acting just like Mommy. (Moments later, spotting another one) Bug!

Me: AAack! Spbltssppptt!! Yuck! Where? Is it in my mouth? Spppllltt! Yuck! I hate bugs! (It worked--I did get another satisfying laugh.)

Susanna: Cruiser!

Me (predictably): Aaack! Where? (Slapping at my back and shoulders) I hate Cruisers!

(I'll omit some brief conversation in the interlude between bugs and Cruisers)

Susanna: Bug!
Me: I don't believe you. You're just trying to scare me!

We can be pretty silly now and then.

Two-Year-Old Joke

2008-02-09T14:47:00.001-08:00

Michael: Knock-knock!

Me: Who's there?

Michael: Me are!

Control Issues

2008-02-05T21:15:00.001-08:00

The very next night we did the same routine, but Susanna was not in the room with us.

I asked Nathan, "What was your favorite part of the day?"

He replied, "Can I ask Michael something?"

I agreed, so he addressed his brother in stern tones: "Michael, do NOT talk about the Star Wars Legos game. You can't keep saying that!"

No response from Mike on my right side, but I remarked, "Well, Nathan, we can't control him, but now he knows you don't want him to talk about that. Now, do you want to tell us the best part of your day?"

"My best part was playing Lego Star Wars at our cousin's house today." (We had visited ANOTHER cousin, who has ANOTHER version of it.) I was thankful for the darkness hiding my smile at the irony here.

"Michael, what was your favorite part of the day?"

"Hmmmmm . . . I be Wuke, I be doid, I be Empwew."

From my left erupted an enraged roar, then: "Michael! I told you not to talk about that!"

No one likes to be controlled, but if we're honest, most of us would like to control the people around us, wouldn't we? We just get more sophisticated as we grow older . . .

Compline

2008-01-18T07:24:00.000-08:00

Our family had a very nice winter break, staying with good friends who took great care of us. While mommy was away for several days at a conference, the 3 kids and dad slept in one room. I decided to adapt Susanna's bedtime prayer routine for use with the younger boys, which resulted in a unique and amusing experience. Though a little long for the blog, I think it's worth the telling.

Picture a darkened room with a child in one small bed, and myself and the other two children on mattresses on the floor. One by one I asked them, "What was your favorite part of the day?"

Susanna: "My favorite part of today was being at my cousin Kristie's house."
Dad: "My favorite part was talking with Uncle Pete, Aunt Susan, and Aunt Tina."
Nate: "My favorite part was playing Lego Star Wers on the computer with John. I got to be Luke Skywalker, and I got to be a droid, and I got to be the Empire, and I got to be a storm trooper, and I got to be the Emperor." Nate waxed eloquent about the computer game until I gently ended his soliloquy.
"What about you, Michael?"

Mike: "Hummmmmm, mine favite part was I be Wuke, I be doid, I be Empwew."
Nathan: "What did he say?"
Me: "He says he was Luke, he was a droid, he was the Emperor. Now let's each say the worst part of our day."

Susanna: "My worst part was when I got hurt."
Nathan: "My worst part was when someone spoke rudely to me and hurt my feewings."
Me: "Michael, what was your worst part of today?"
Mike: "Hummm, mine woost part, I be Wuke, I be doid, I be Empwew."

"Alright, thank you Michael. Now let's all be quiet and listen to Jesus for a minute. Jesus, is there anything you want to say to us?" After a brief moment, "I think I heard Jesus say, 'I love you, and I have all of you in my hands.' Susanna, what did you hear?"

Susanna: "I heard, 'I love you and I'm holding you in my hand."
Me: "Wow--that's almost the same," (which is unusual) "and it does sound like Jesus. What about you, Nate?"
Nathan: "I heard, 'Don't hit, don't push, don't bite, and there is no such thing as being rude."
Susanna: "I think you mean, 'Don't be rude.'"
Nathan: "Yeah, 'Don't be rude.'"

Me: "Those are good rules. How about you, Michael?"
Mike: "Hummmmmmmmmm. I be Wuke, I be Empwew, I be doid."

We sang our nightly prayer song, and I fell asleep amused and grateful for the joys of parenting an 8-year-old, 4-year-old, and 2-year-old. It's a great perspective on the world.

Toddler-English Lexicon

2008-01-04T21:37:00.000-08:00

(All entries thanks to Michael, the expert two-year-old in our house.)

Pie Dough Man: Popular superhero. "Me have pie dough man jammies!" (Hint: Pie dough man, pie dough man; does whatever a pie dough can!)

Dough, Eggo, Dough!: Popular kid's show. "Me want us watch Dough Eggo!" "Oh, you want to watch 'Go, Diego, Go!' ?"

Oooze: to employ any object for it's function

Taw: 1. Vehicle. "You dive mama's taw?" 2. Musical instrument. "Me want you ooze youse taw." "You want me to use the car?" "No, taw!" "Huh? A cow?" "No, taw! Youse taw!" "Show me." (He leads me by the hand into the study and points.) "Oh, you want me to use the guitar!" "Uh-huh!"

Donup: "Me donup wike you. Wike Mommy." "You're a grownup like me and mommy?" "Yes me do." "You do what?" "Me donup."

Bad duy: villains. "Me see bad duys!"

Dove: protective hand wear. "Me weaw mine bad duy doves, Daddy." Maybe all bad guys wear gloves? I don't know.

A Christmas Eve Memory

2007-12-31T19:43:00.000-08:00

A little interaction between our kids on Christmas eve reveals how much they've imbibed the Christmas spirit.

Susanna was explaining, "A boy said to me, 'Put that down, little girl!' I told him, 'Don't call me a little girl! I'm bigger than you.'"

"Was he in third grade?" I asked.

"No, he's in first grade," she replied, indignant.

At this point four-year-old Nate piped in with his advice: "Next time you see him, tell him, 'You want a piece of me?!' Then do something to him."

Nice to see all our hard work to instill Christian virtues of kindness and peacemaking is sinking in!

2007-12-21T17:03:00.001-08:00

"Me... ummmmm..." Michael began, searching for the right word.

He decided to start over.

"I idea! Us wait Timmas. Open peasants!"

"Great idea, Michael!"

Tongue Twisters

2007-12-21T16:58:00.001-08:00

"Nathan, tell mommy the hard word you discovered yesterday!" I encouraged my son.

He responded eagerly. "Diff ceferticack."

"What?" asked Jen, confused.

"Sift derfissticate," he tried again. "Dist fersiffisate."

"He figured out it's hard to say 'Gift certificate,'" I translated diplomatically.

He grew weary of saying it after we had asked him to repeat it about ten times. So we turned to the two and a half year old. "Michael, can you say 'gift certificate?'"

Without batting an eye, he said, clear as a bell, "No." Open-and-shut case.

A minute later, Nathan disputed a slight exaggeration his mom had made. "You're my little littlerist!" she laughed.

I laughed, too. "What did you say?"

"Little littlelerist."

"Huh?" asked Nate.

I clarified for him: "Mommy's trying to say literalist. Little liratilist." We both laughed. "Wow, that is hard to say!"

"I'm saying it!" Jen insisted. "Little littlerist! See?" After you say it a few times, that starts sounding right. If you don't believe me, try it.

Timmas Tumming!

2007-12-18T13:12:00.001-08:00

"Tismas whites! Tismas whites!" I heard a small excited voice call out from behind me as I drove.

Michael has been practicing for an important (if only seasonal) job. "Mo timmas whites!"

"Yes, there are more Christmas lights!" I agreed, as we passed another brightly lit house.

We turned a corner. "Uh-oh, no me see no mo timmas whites anywhewe!" No laxness here: the most conscientious color-commentators don't settle for merely highlighting the place which do have lights.

"Hey! Mo tismas whites!" Whew, situation resolved. We're back to normal. "Us have Tismas whites, Daddy? Us have Tismas whites?"

"Yes, we have Christmas lights." I respond, knowing he will continue to ask until he gets satisfaction.

I think he'll get the job. He'll do it, whether we ask him to or not. But I must say, I am enjoying the Christmas season more regularly and more thoroughly this year. Our children's enthusiasm is infectious. And I wuv dat.

From the Wonder-What-They-Said Dept.

2007-12-11T22:59:00.001-08:00

Michael's been stuffed up with a cold recently. The other morning he told his mom,

"Mommy, mine boogohs talking to me."

Double Trouble

2007-12-08T16:14:00.001-08:00

The day after his eye surgery, Nathan looked at me across the room. "Hey! There are two daddies!"

His mom, next to him, asked, "How many mommies do you see?"

He studied her for a minute. "One."

Just then Michael walked--okay, ran--into the room. "Hey! There's two Michaels! That's funny!" He started cracking up.

The next day the surgeon told us this was normal, until the brain was able to integrate the two images into one again. But Nathan enjoyed it while it lasted.

The next morning, he walked into the living room and surveyed his sister, sitting on the couch. "Hey, there's two Susannas, one on top of the other!"

She immediately began pummeling the air. "Hey, get off me! Get off me!"

A week later, he only sees one of each of us. Though I'm glad his vision's normal, I kind of miss being in two places at once.

You Can Count on Them

2007-11-22T08:43:00.001-08:00

"Owwie! Me huwt mine sumb!"

"Oh, did you hurt your thumb, Michael?" asked Jen.

"Yes, me huwt mine baby sumb."

"Your baby thumb? What's your baby thumb?"

He held up his little finger.

"That's your baby thumb? What's this one?" Jen pointed to his thumb.

"Sumb."

"What's this one called?" She pointed to his index finger.

"Pinkie." Turns out he has three pinkies, between his thumb and his baby thumb! :-)

Have a very happy Thanksgiving! (And if you were worried, his baby thumb got better.)

2007-11-19T15:36:00.001-08:00

"What's a U-Turn?" Nathan inquired.

His sister met the challenge. "It's an outer space satellite. I think. Or maybe it's one of the planets."

Nathan concurred. "Yeah, it's a planet. U-turn."

You never know what you'll learn next!

Toddler-English English-Toddler Dictionary

2007-11-18T07:16:00.000-08:00

babas: n. a plastic container equipped with a nipple for feeding babies: do mine babas?

boo: adj. color between green and violet: da die is boo.

dandle: n. a cylinder or block of wax with a wick that is lit to produce light as it burns: me bwow out youse dandle.

dean: adj. free from dirt, marks, or stains. v. make something or someone free from dirt or mess by washing or wiping: mine boo babas dean?

die: n. the region of the atmosphere and outer space seen from the earth: me see moon up in die.

debt (det): v. acquire, come to have or hold something: Mama debt dandle?

do (doe): v. move from one place to another. Often used as an abbreviated form of the question, "Where is": do mine hapa?

hapa: n. a round fruit of a tree of the rose family, usually with red, yellow or green skin and crisp flesh. May be used for dessert, cooking fruit, or making cider: me want hapa.

nap: n. an opaque white drink rich in fat and protein produced by cows and other female mammals: dadda debt mo nap?

peas: adv. used in polite requests or questions: peas debt me mine nigh-night; used to add urgency and emotion to a request: mine nigh-night peas! mine nigh-night peas!

tease: n. a dairy food made from the pressed curds of milk: me want mo tease peas.

verbal: n. a car with a folding or detachable roof: me see verbal!

who: n. a vehicle carrying firefighters and equipment for fighting fires. Makes the sound "whoooo!": mama set up mine who, peas?

2007-11-15T07:14:00.000-08:00

"Daddy, today we made Challah!" Nathan exclaimed when I picked him up from preschool. Their class at the Jewish preschool was focusing on Shabbat (the sabbath) for the week, and the kids actually got to make Challah, the special braided Shabbat bread. Picturing a roomful of 12 squirrelly 4-year-old bakers, I had to smile.

He continued. "I have a good idea. Maybe we can make Challah at home!"

"I don't know how," I said.

"First, we have to have ingredients," he said.

"That sounds right to me," I said, still dubious.

"Yup. You make it with ingredients." Then he fell silent, and I assumed the case was closed. An open-and-shut deal. But after a minute, he piped up from the back seat and surprised me.

"First we take sugar and hot water," he said. "You can't eat the sugar. If you eat it, then you can't make Challah."

"Okay," I went along with it for the sake of argument.

"Then you need eggs and flour and salt, and oil. You mix it together until it gets real hard." Unbidden, into my mind popped a picture of something like a hard-dried lump of pale play-dough.

"Then you pound it and pound it and pound it." Tables of squirrelly preschoolers pounding their lumps of dough.

"Then you braid it. You have to put it over and through, over and through, over and through." I was following him.

"Then you have to leave it to rise until tomorrow."

I was quite impressed at the effectiveness of the preschool's teaching! If we'd followed his recipe, the lack of yeast would have sabotaged us, but otherwise it seemed like my 4-year-old had actually learned how to make bread. Our whole family enjoyed the loaf he brought home the next day, and I was even more impressed. It was excellent. Now if only he could internalize and follow directions for using the bathroom that well . . .

Peanut Gallery

2007-11-12T21:25:00.001-08:00

Today in the car Michael yelled out (and I do mean yelled--this boy has lungs!) "Vewdiva!"

Hmm?

"Vewdiva!" "Duza!" "Duza!" "Bug!"

Oh . . . he's joined the game! Convertible, Cruiser, Bug!

Alter Ego

2007-11-11T20:16:00.000-08:00

Last week when I posted the costume photos, Nathan asked me not to put the pictures of him on the computer.

This week he released the rights to it, or at least granted his permission--so here they are. (Click them to see larger size.)

How's that again?

2007-11-11T20:03:00.000-08:00

Our family's become expert at spotting VW bugs, PT Cruisers, and convertibles in the past month, after Susanna's friend Abby taught her the game. Every conversation in the car is now punctuated with comments such as "Cruiser!" or "I saw it first!" "No you didn't!" and so on. It's very relaxing.

Nathan's 4-year-old contribution has been to call out "Bug!" or "convertible" with no reference to reality.

But on the way to school the other morning, it dawned on him that the little yellow VW bug on our porch is the same as the bugs that his sister calls. So he made his first actual sighting.

"Yellow bug! I saw a yellow bug!"

"Good job, Nathan!" I encouraged him. Then he delivered the coup de grace,

"I know which one is not which one, and which one is which one."

Toddlerese

2007-11-07T20:08:00.000-08:00

Understanding each other is hard enough, even when we're face to face and can pick up facial expressions and body language, which psychologists say carry 60% of the communication.

When I'm driving, I'm deprived of that 60% because the 2-year-old sits right behind me. Not to mention that since I'm driving in L.A. 90% of my brain has to be devoted to the road . . .

Michael: Me wissen dum dah.

Me (thinking, Ooh, this should be easy. I already got the first two words!): You want to listen to something?

Michael: Uh-huh! Me wissen dum dah.

Me: You want to listen to . . . uh . . .

Michael: Me wissen dum dah!

Me: uh . . . do you want to listen to Finding Nemo?

Michael (amused at Daddy's typical silliness): No Nemo! Dum dah!

Me: Snow White?

Michael (with the tone of You idiot!): No, dum dah. Dum dah!

Michael (now irate): No! No! Dum dah! Dum dah!

Me (smart enough, at least, not to suggest Veggie Tales, which is "Dedgie" in Michael-speak, and deciding to switch strategies): Do you want to listen to a story?

Michael: No! Dum Dah!

Me: Do you want music?

Michael: Yeth! Dum dah!

Me (relieved that now it's just a process of elimination): Do you want Kirk Franklin?

Michael: No! Me wissen dum dah!

Me: Chris Tomlin?

Michael (in tears): No!

Me (the light dawning): Tim McGraw?

Michael: Yeth! Dum Dah! Dum Dah!

I've never been so ecstatic about putting the Tim McGraw cd in the player.

"My Nice Bed"

2007-11-06T20:38:00.000-08:00

Today Nathan ceded his old toddler bed to his brother.

"Me wike my nice bed."

"Double me up! (Cover me up!)"

"Dada dake mine dib away. (Daddy took my crib away.)"

I had mastered climbing in and out of my crib.

My new toddler bed is so much easier to climb in and out of!

Lost in Translation

2007-11-06T16:10:00.000-08:00

Having a two-year-old is like living in another country. Even the most basic communications can be grueling, taking enormous energy and time. For example, on the way home from school the other day. . .

Michael: Dadda. Tap. White?

Me: uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...

Michael: Dadda. Tap. White?

Me: Daddy's something white?

Michael: No! Dadda. Tap. White.

Me: Daddy's . . . uh . . .

Michael: Dadda. Tap. White!

Me: Sorry, Michael, I can't understand!

Michael: Dadda. Tap. White! Dadda. Tap. White!

Out of pity for you, the reader, I'll omit the increasingly urgent variations on a theme. Then, by a stroke of serendipity, just as we had reached a panic level, we passed a traffic signal, which enlightened me.

Me: Ohhh . . . Daddy stopped at the light?

Michael, frustratation giving way to great relief and joy: Yess! Dadda. Tap. White!

I guess the difference is in other countries people don't usually repeat themselves ten to twenty times. Usually you just both smile and nod, pretending you understand, hoping they don't notice. A two-year-old never lets you get away with it.

How It Really Happened...

2007-11-05T07:22:00.001-08:00

I'm learning so much about history from my kids, now that they're in school. We were driving in the van when this interchange took place:

Nathan: The first man to walk on the moon was . . . was . . . the first man to walk on the moon was, um, Eisenhower.

Me: Eisenhower?

Nathan: Yup. Eisenhower was the first man to walk on the moon.

Me: I think you mean Armstrong.

Nathan: Oh, yeah, Armstrong was the first person God created, so that's why he was the first man to walk on the moon.

Me: Well . . . actually, Neil Armstrong wasn't the first person God created. There were lots of people on earth, and some people got in a rocket and went to the moon. Neil Armstrong was in the first space craft to land on the moon, and when he got out he became the first person to walk on the moon.

Nathan: Yes, and he was zery, zery strong.

Two Pirates and a Monster

2007-11-01T07:33:00.000-07:00

Pirate Princess, Elmo, Cap'n Jack, Spidey, and Stitch

ready for a night on the town

Two Brothers

Our Happy Family

The Spoils of Battle

Quote of the Day

2007-10-06T13:48:00.001-07:00

Nathan: "When I was a w'il baby, I was too busy destroying fings inside my birthmom's tummy!"

Heart Break

2007-09-29T08:06:00.001-07:00

This morning Jen was enjoying snuggling with our boys in bed. She turned to me and said, "Some day these boys are going to break my heart."

"Why?" I asked.

"Because they won't snuggle with me any more."

Michael sat up. "Me bwote (broke) Mama arm?"

We laughed out loud. "No, you didn't break mommy's arm!" I said.

"Nay-nay bwote Mama arm?"

"No, Nathan didn't break mommy's arm, either!" I tried to explain. "Mommy said you'll break her heart. She's joking. She means you won't snuggle with her any more."

"Bwote heark?"

"Yes, broken heart."

"Bwote heark."

Clearly Michael is very concerned about his mother's health and well-being.

Crazy Moms Produce Creative Artists

2007-09-27T08:13:00.001-07:00

After a homework blowout with her mom, Susanna wrote the following poem. They subsequently worked it out.

Moms advice

Moms advice is not very nice.
She said do this and do that
clean up your toys clean up your hat!
I do not like it. Not even a BIT.
It is simply dredful. I hate it.
Can you say sorry a Bit?
Please?

First Day of School, 2007

2007-09-24T21:49:00.000-07:00

Playing at Catalina Island

2007-09-24T21:48:00.000-07:00

Running from the Waves at Jenner Beach

2007-09-24T21:46:00.000-07:00

Two more

2007-09-24T21:43:00.000-07:00

Susanna with Jen at Jenner Beach

2007-09-24T21:37:00.000-07:00

Provisions

2007-09-24T09:49:00.001-07:00

Every day when I drive the kids to school, they beg for the next installment of "The Dragon-Hunters."

Today, Susanna the Hunter, Nathan the Hunter, and Michael the Hunter had polished their armor and were loading their horses up with provisions. I asked the kids, "What are provisions? Provisions means things you need for the trip."

Nathan said, "Water!" "Right, they need water for sure." Susanna added, "Sleeping bags. And tents." "Yes," I said, "they took blankets, but they were tough hunters so they didn't need tents; they slept outside. What else?"

"A TV!" Nate shouted. "No TV," I said. "There are other provisions they really need." "Sewage?" asked Susanna. Laughing out loud, I said, "No, they just dug a hole to use as a toilet and then covered it with dirt."

"Eww!" said Susanna. "What else?" I pressed. "A shovel? To dig the hole?" she asked.

"There's something else they really need." "A cough drop?" she guessed.

I was amused to find out what my kids consider necessities. I guess food is low on the priority list.

Abraham Lincoln

2007-09-21T09:46:00.000-07:00

Overhead from the backseat on the way to soccer practice (Susanna is 7, Nathan's 4):

Susanna: I brought the book about Abraham Lincoln to read.

Nathan: Abraham Winkin did a cool fwip.

Susanna (outraged): No, he did NOT do a flip! He was real.

Nathan: Abraham Winkin was wooking the other way, and he got shot in the back of the head.

Susanna: Let me read that part to you. ". . . while President Lincoln and his wife were watching a play, seated in the pres . . . presidential box in the Ford Theater, John Winkes Boothe, who sympa- . . . sympathized with the South-ern Cows"

Me: Southern Cause.

Susanna: ". . . Southern cause, had shot him in the head." That means he died.

Nathan: Yes, and then he came back alive.

Susanna (outraged again): NO, he did NOT come back alive again. This is not a movie, Nathan! This is real.

Nathan: He came back alive.

Susanna (adamant): He did NOT come back alive. Except in God's world. He came back alive in God's world, because I just KNOW he believed in God.