Wednesday, October 27, 2010

. . . George feeds Bill's bunnies

That's the title Averie provided when asked what her mother should post about her. The following is the rest of her response.

"Iwah Meeway." (tran.: Isla Mireille) "Um, Ariel. Mama, can I wear a different dress? Can I wear my Cindalella dress. I think that's Dadoo. Mama, why can I not spill?"

So there's a lot of language going on, but it's more conversational these days, and much of it is made up. She makes up names for places and people, names for animals, names for pretend people, places and things, and includes all of these in her speech as if the rest of us are all in on the specifics of these made up lives.

The biggest change from our baby adorable's lips involves pronunciation. There is so much less of that baby-speak now. Nearly everyone she speaks to can understand her, and there is barely a need for a translator (mama) to intervene. Words like 'wadi' (Remy) don't even exist in her vocabulary any more, and we-the-parents are resisting any urges to correct the few remaining mispronunciations still in her oratorial bag. Right now, "fwirty" stands in for "thirty", but that's one in a handful left for her to learn.

All this talk is just one more reminder of how soon these days of smallness will be gone. We-the-parents want to hold on to every single one of them, as long as we can.

Friday, October 8, 2010

. . . it all by herself

Big girls do lots of things. Big girls do them all by themselves. Big girls don't need any help. Except when they do.

'I can do it all by myself' is the phrase of the phase for fall two-thousand ten. "It" is nearly everything - from taking off her own jeans (over her shoes, no less) and zipping her own (hard-to-zip) hoodie to climbing any and every stair she encounters and getting her straws into the top of those plastic kid-cup lids - she can do "it" "ALL BY MYSELF!"

'I don't need any help' is a close second in competition for the girl's favorite sentence. Unfortunately, this secondary phrase is usually forced out through clenched jaw while her eyes begin drip tears and her small frame tenses in frustration. She's so young - too young to possess the experience-based understanding that there could be a different/better/easier/ way to accomplish the near-impossible task she's currently attempting.

It's almost as if she's trying to convince herself (there's no place like home, there's no place like home, there's no place ...).

Seeing this frustration is difficult. More difficult is standing by, trying not to help, then trying to help, and being pushed away by those tiny, three-year-old hands as she sobs and struggles to do it on her own. Sometimes her success is a happy moment for her. (It's nearly always a relief for we-the-parents). Many times, she's just so exhausted from her efforts that she can't even recognize for herself that she actually accomplished the very thing she set out to do. Even knowing that this is part of her growing does not make it easier to watch.

This independence is a good thing; it means our sweet girl is growing up. It's also a sad thing; it means our sweet girl is growing up. Sometimes it's a hard thing - difficult for both parents and child. It's always an amazing thing, though, and we-the-parents are still in awe of how a person begins and becomes.

Other phrases heard this week ...

"I'm too busy to talk to Dadoo right now."

"But Mama, children always want to play!"

"I always like to go into the eating store to eat at it."

"No. I am the ONLY one who has to obey Mama."

" ... because he has to 'neigh' at them while they chuff past ..."

"Don't say 'ghostlight'. It's Mater and the Ghostlight."

"Can I watch Mater and the Ghostlight?"