From the mouths of babes...

Or the mouth of one babe, in particular... There are so many things Nate says now that make me laugh or smile. On the talking spectrum, he's right where he should be, which means he knows a lot of words but isn't putting together sentences the same way I see little girls his age doing. He still babbles a lot and it's clear that he thinks he's saying sentences, and he talks ALL DAY LONG.

Wheeee!

Amongst all that chattiness, there are a few things that make Tom and I crack up to ourselves long after Nate's gone to bed.

Lock - Nate pronounces lock as "yock," which makes me snicker when I think about it. It's so cute sounding. And he is obsessed with locks - he wants to close all doors, all the time. He also wants to make sure I remember to lock the car when we park it. When I take him out of his car seat, he starts going, "Yock! Yock! Mommy? Yock?"

Sock - This one is pronounced with an "f" - fock. I think that says enough.

Backpack - Mack Mack - LOVE it. He now understands that the backpack is used to carry stuff, so he takes toys with him when we go to my in-law's house.

Fix it - This is a common request after he throws some toy and all the pieces come apart. "Mommy? Mommy? Fix it!" He also thinks putting the key in the ignition in the car is fixing the car. After I buckle him into his car seat (and he says, "Buckle! Buckle!"), he starts saying, "Mommy! A key! A key! Fix it!" I guess the car is broken without the key. Really kinda makes sense, right?

Cool - This is Nate's latest exclamation. He uses it correctly and appropriately, which cracks me up. He'll be playing with his toys, have one of them do something, and then go, "Cool!"

Oh Man! - This one definitely came from Dora the Explorer. Ugh. But it's just funny when he says it.

Night night - Every time Nate sees a bed, he says, "A bed! Night night!" (This was extra funny in IKEA the other day.) For the past few weeks, Nate has been waking up in the middle of the night, usually between 12:30am and 5am, at which point he comes to our room and falls back asleep with us in our bed. One night last week, though, he woke up at 11:30pm, when we were still awake. He stumbled into our room, squinting at the light still on. He walked over to our lamp, turned it off, said, "Night night!" and crawled into our bed and fell asleep. We were laughing SO hard; we couldn't help it. Even after we both also laid down, we kept giggling for a while.

A phone - Nate loves all phones. When we recently went to the Verizon store to get my iPhone, he just ran around going, "A phone! A phone! A phone! A phone!" because, well, you know - there were phones everywhere. He was out of control.

Mom - He usually still says Mommy, but sometimes he says, "Mooo-oooom." What??? NO. He better stick with "Mommy" for at least a few more years. (Somehow, Tom is still Dada, not even Daddy, even though Nate was saying Dada long before he was saying Mama.)

Uncle Kenny - It took Nate a long time to call my brother something considering he lives with us. A few times he tried to say Kenny and it came out "keh-yee" but I guess that didn't work for him because he's taken to calling him Kiki (kee-kee). CRACKS ME UP every time. I told my brother that I bet he never guessed in a million years that he'd be called Kiki regularly without some reassignment surgery.

Knock knock - Sometimes Nate will knock on Ken's door. Other times he just stands at the door and screams, "Knock knock! Kiki! Knock knock! Kiki!" Hysterical.

A - Everything is singular right now. Ken is "a kiki," every phone is "a phone," every cookie is "a cookie."

What - We have this little game in the car where I say, "Say whaaaat?" and Nate goes, "Whaaat!" And then we both giggle. I love it.

Blue - Pronounced "BOOOOO!" Even though he knows several colors (white, purple, red), he calls all of them blue right now. He also calls Blue from Blue's Clues "Boooo!" (It's also one of his favorite shows right now.)

Hold on - Every time we walk down our back steps, I tell Nate to hold on to the handrail. He always does, but now he also yells, "HOLD ON!" with every step down he takes. (I'm laughing just thinking about it. It's so funny. At least I know he's listening.)

Pizza - Pronounced "Izza!" (Eat-za) My parents babysat Nate last Saturday while I was at a conference and ordered pizza for dinner as a treat for Nate. When the pizza arrived, he yelled, "Izza!" and ran to the table and scrambled into his seat, sat up tall and said, "Eeeeat! Eeeeat!" He knows what he likes.

Climb - Nate has to use a stool to get into his bed (it's just a smidge too tall for him) and I guess I said, "Climb into bed" a bunch of times because now every time he does climb into bed, he says, "Climb! Climb!" He also likes to carry his stool around the house and try to reach new things (light switches, window sills). He gets up on it and goes, "Climb!" He also says it at the playground as he climbs the structures. It's hard to describe how he says it - it's kind of like "kyime." Very cute.

Color - Nate says "kuh-goo" to mean color or crayon. I have no idea why/how it works out that way, but I think it's adorable.

 

I really can't state enough just how much I love all of this. It's still challenging when Nate's trying to tell me something and I don't yet understand what he means, but looking at a list like this makes me realize just how much we actually communicate now and how awesome it is. This list is just a snippet of all the things he says - the funnier things. We really do have a chatty little boy, and it's fantastic.

Yes, thank you very mu--- hello?

I've been spending a lot of time on the phone with PSE&G lately (our gas and electric folks for those of you outside the area) due to the obnoxiously high bill we received this month, which is nearly $400 HIGHER than what we already thought was an obnoxiously high (and incorrect) bill last month.  The situation is ongoing and probably won't be resolved for a while, but thankfully we have a landlord who understands that we didn't sign up to pay this much for utilities.

But what this means is that I've spent a lot of time talking to an automated voice.  "Does your last name begin with the letters B-O-T?"  "No."  "Please state your account number."

You know the drill.  Or I'm assuming you know the drill.  In fact, I assumed most people knew the drill until I came across my lunchtime companion yesterday.  He had his cell phone up so loud (as this sort of person usually does) so I could hear everything the automated system was saying.

System: Briefly, please state your problem.

Now, those of us familiar with these issues know that you give a one-to-three word answer here.

Him: Well, my washing machine isn't working right and it's making this funny noi--

System: *boooop* I'm sorry; I didn't understand.  Briefly, please state your problem.

Him: I SAID, my washing machine is making this noise and I don't kno--

System: *boooop* I'm sorry, I didn't understand.  Would you like to speak to a representative?

Him: Yes, that's what I'm trying to do so that would be very ni--

System: *boooop* I'm sorry, I didn't understand.  Would you like to speak to a representative?

Him: That's exactly what I'm trying to do, thank you ver--

System: *boooop* Please hold while we transfer you to a representative.

Him:  I don't understand why this is taking so long.

At this point I am nearly snarfing in my packed ziti lunch.  He proceeds to finally get a representative, at which point he proceeds to tell her he doesn't know anything about the problem, just that his wife asked him to call because the washing machine is making a chugga-chugga-chugga noise, but he thinks all machines make those noises depending on what you put in the mach---

And the representative kindly cuts him off to ask what kind of machine he has, to which he responds, "I don't know!  I just said, my wife is the one with the problem."

Oh indeed, sir, I do believe your wife certainly lives with a problem.

You can't have my band name.

I know I'm not the only one who goes through life randomly thinking, "That would make a great band name!" when certain phrases appear.

In college, my friend James had a package of pita bread spontaneously fall off a shelf.  He then declared that the new band name on his list was "Suicidal Pitas".  We still laugh about it, even though it's probably only funny to us.

If you're on Facebook, you know how it now randomly posts older pictures in the top right corner.  On the hubby's page, it recently posted a picture of me with my nephew, TJ (my sister's son), from my bridal shower.

The hubby saw the picture quickly and got confused.  "Wait, isn't that the bridal shower? Why is Nate there? Wait, that's not Nate..."

Nate and his cousin TJ look enough alike that at certain angles, a quick glance at pictures of them at the same age can be confusing (Nate's not quite 5 months old yet while TJ is now two and a half years old).

This isn't surprising, though, because the genes in my family are really strong.  All the boys look similar as babies - blond hair, blue eyes, big round cheeks, cute button nose.  Nate bucks the trend a bit with his brown hair, though (which I adore - what's more handsome than a man with brown hair and blue eyes?).

But I realized, then, that there was one exception: the ears.  Nate has the hubby's ears (so much so that it was laughable in the beginning, they're that identical) and my sister's kids have the ears from her husband's family.

So our genes are strong, except for the ears.  Those, it seems, are recessive.

And that is my new band name: Recessive Ears.

 

Wordless Wednesday - more faces of Nate

My parents babysat for Nate while the hubby and I were at the wedding Friday.  That means lots of pictures!

(I loooove that smirk.)

Oh, hey, Smokey.

And then on Saturday, I went over there to do the weekly laundry (maybe the last time I do it there??)...

And with that biggest smile ever, I wish you a happy Wednesday. :)

My Little Butter Boy

One of Nate's favorite sounds to make is "Geeee!!"  He's made this happiness-indicating sound since he started making any sounds that weren't crying (so very early on).  The hubby and I always repeat it back to him when he says it, which makes him laugh and say it again.  (I love this.)

Every Friday I go to my parents' house to do laundry and, of course, take Nate with me.  This week my parents and I were marvelling at how big Nate got since it was the day after his four month pediatrician appointment.

At one point Nate exclaimed, "Geeee!" with joy and my mother laughs and says, "You know what ghee is, right?  Clarified butter?"

Oh. My. Goodness.  I did know that but I didn't think of it!  So all this time Nate's been asking for butter?  Did my womb have a Paula Deen channel?

For the record, he also gives huge smiles for the word "pierogi."  That's my little 1/4 Ukie boy.

I mean, look at these cheeks.  And those chubby feet.  And those thighs.

He is definitely helping himself to pierogi with extra butter when no one's looking.

Nearly Wordless Wednesday - My baby is Sean Penn

My dad loves to take pictures, lots and lots of pictures.  He did used to be a professional photographer, after all (weddings, proms, that kind of thing).  As kids, I think my brother, sister, and I did a fairly good job of putting up with all of the pictures he took.  Sure, there are tons where we're not smiling or clearly look annoyed because it's picture #847 of the day (and this is back when we used film), but we would always put up with "just a few more" and then "just a few more".

I'm worried about my son, though.  He seems to be less tolerant of all the photo-taking than I'd like him to be.

Nate: Here I am, enjoying tummy time on my activity mat. I love how strong I am!


Wait, how many pictures does Pop-Pop plan to take of me today?


That many?  Oh, you think so?
(Note the evil eyebrow arch.  It's worrisome.)

 

*Bam!*

I'm worried.  Quite worried.

To My Dear Apartment

Dear Home,

I know it's been a rough transition for you now that I've gone back to work after 15 (not) luxurious weeks of maternity leave in your arms.  I know you feel neglected.  I know the hubby doesn't show you the love in the ways that I do, but that's just his special way of helping you to grow.

You see, home, it's your time to mature a bit and start taking care of a few things yourself.  After all, the hubby and I won't be around forever and you'll need to know how to take care of yourself.  So I've made a short list of things I believe you are big enough (aw, so big!) to handle on your own:

1. I know I don't get to caress you with the Lemon Fresh Clorox Wipes as often as you'd like, so you should take it upon yourself to just wipe down those counters, table surface, and cabinet doors whenever you see a bit of spill, splash, or crumb.  You'll feel and smell great!

2. The vacuum.  I know it's loud, but it doesn't mean to be scary.  It just really want to chomp on all that dirt and all those crumbs and dust bunnies that try and hide under the sofas and coffee table and along the bookshelves.  You and he will make a great team as you show that dirt who's boss.

3. The bathroom.  I know, it's a delicate area, but it must be discussed.  It doesn't clean itself, after all.  And unlike all of the other rooms, it's unique in the amount of scrubbing it requires, but I know you can do it.  You're strong!  Just let that cleaner soak in and then give those bathtub rings a bit of elbow grease.  They'll be running scared from you down the drain in no time.  The floor will acquiesce to just a few sweeps of the Swiffer and your good old friend the Clorox Wipes can help you with all those other surfaces.  Trust in your friends.  They're there to help you.  (The toilet brush is right next to the toilet.  Be his friend, too.)

4. I know it wasn't your decision to bring a baby into the mix, but you did provide us with two bedrooms so you had to know that eventually one would become a child's room.  And children come with special cleaning requirements which necessitate close attention.  The diaper pail, for instance - please empty it when full.  And the bottles, please wash them whenever you get a free minute otherwise they build up and become a time-consuming enterprise (and heaven forbid we run out and have to listen to a screaming baby while we first clean and then prep a fresh bottle).  And the baby's laundry, if you could.  I know the little onesies and socks and burp clothes and bibs take forever to spray with stain remover and then more time to fold when they're dry, but if you could just get to that, that'd be fantastic.

It's really not so much to ask.  I managed it all while also taking care of the baby.  You don't even need to take care of the baby; I'm simply asking you to watch over yourself in the manner to which we have both become accustomed.  You don't need to cook dinner (although some help with the dishes would be much appreciated) and you don't need to care for the lawn or anything else external.  You don't need to answer the door; in fact, don't answer the door.  I'd hate for you to become distracted. 

But if you could also just pass the Swiffer duster around once every two weeks or so, that would be wonderful.  If you can manage just these few simple chores, I'd be eternally grateful (and so will your future spouse).

Sincerely with much love and support,

Your favorite tenant

 

This post is an entry for the Living Out Loud project.  This month’s theme was “You won't read this anywhere”.  If you’d like to take part in future projects, click here!

What verb do you shower?

The other day, someone I follow on Twitter said they were going to go "have a shower" which had that weird "Hm, that doesn't sound right to my ears" feeling, like the shower was equivalent to a sandwich (which I suppose is possible, depending on how many people you have in there, but that's a whole other blog post (and not mine)).  A friend of mine always says, "I'm going to get a shower" like her house came without one and she has to go purchase one daily.  I say, "I'm going to go take a shower" which obviously sounds fine to me but, now that I really think about it, sounds like I'm about to steal a shower from someone else's home, making me far worse than the friend who "gets" hers in a clearly more civilized, less forceful, brutal way.

Other times "I'm going to go hop in the shower" which must indicate a cheerier day than the ones in which I say I'm going "to go grab a shower" which kind of sounds like assault.

So how do you verb your shower? (Or bath. Don't want to be exclusionary here.)

Nearly Wordless Wednesday: my baby Burt Reynolds

Yesterday I posted a picture from Nate's three month professional photo session.  It's adorable, happy, and precious.

But there was also this one:

 

Tell me this one doesn't say, "Heyyyy ladies, wanna check out my crib?"  Tell me I'm not going to have to worry about his future dating life and I'll tell you that I ordered a print of this picture just so it can be the one that goes in his senior yearbook.

Oh, you again.

Dear PMS:

I hate to tell you, but I had actually forgotten about you.  After nine months of relating any mood swings to pregnancy hormones, I completely forgot that you used to visit once a month and throw my moods for a loop.

All things considered, you weren't ever all that terrible to me compared to how you are to some of my friends.  You don't bring me any cramps, headaches, or acne.  The only thing you've ever reliably brought me have been mood swings.

But let's talk about those for a minute.  I didn't miss them.  The one thing about pregnancy that I adored more than anything else was just how happy I felt so much of the time.  I was even kinder to the students at work, laughing instead of snarling when they couldn't figure out how to put paper in the printer.  It was the first time in my life I ever felt that content continuously.  (I can only imagine that it must be how my sister, always so bubbly, feels all the time.)

But this past week?  It was hard to recognize you at first, but then one day, after feeling oddly out of sorts and teary about something that wasn't such a big deal, it dawned on me that you had to be back after nearly a year's retreat.  But I suppose having you back is better than my first suspicion that I was beginning to go a bit crazy.

So, welcome back, I suppose.  But don't feel obligated to extend your stay.