Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Sailor

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...

Toddler-English Lexicon

(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

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!

"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 . . . 

How's that again?

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

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.

Lost in Translation

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...

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.

Quote of the Day

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

Heart Break

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

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?

Provisions

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

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.