on the record
April 13, 2010 § Leave a comment
In the car on the way to day care in the morning, Lena puts on her sunglasses, takes out her pacifier and says, “Mommy, take my pacy please.” Arm extension and her little nose in the air to boot.
Complete sentences tiptoed in without me noticing. Seems like once I was waiting for her to form complete thoughts and now she makes comparisons. (“I’m eating a BIG biscuit–like Mommy and Alex.”)
Adverbs? Yes please. (“I want to come inside make bao, too.”)
You just need to come to dinner to see adjectives. (“How’s your dinner Lena?” “It’s delicious!”) Things are yummy, tasty, scary, fun. On her tricycle she goes “very fast”.
And this kid loves. Oh does this kid love. She loves naming all of her friends. Outside we draw chalk stick figures of the neighbors and their dogs. “Draw Taxi and Zorro, mommy, then Uncle Ralph.”
“Now” this and “then” that. (Of course she still uses the phrase “this weekend” for any recent event.)
We’ve also entered the tantrum phase, when for no particular reason that I could discern other than she couldn’t shovel noodles fast enough into her mouth, she broke down crying at dinner. But then she makes up for it when we see a caterpillar sticker.
“I want Cater-pilder.”
“What’s that Lena?”
“Okay, let’s get you that cater pilder.”
Oh my snuggly bear, proudly declaring “FOOTBALL” “BASEBALL” “B-BALL” as we watch sportcenter.
Oh my little bean, full of declarations, exclamations, commands.
How much you have taught me about the world. I never imagined I could love this much. I never knew I had this much to give, and never knew I had this much to learn.
(But please, please, there is no way you need “Milk! Cereal! Bagel! Cheese on toast! Juice! Water!” for one breakfast. Pick one, kiddo. You’ll be fine with just one, I promise.)