Last month a terrible intestinal bug that hit everyone in the house except me (hope I haven't jinxed myself, I know I'm due. But moms aren't allowed to get sick, right?). For O, it manifested in a day of vomiting. Sometime in the afternoon, after he had begged for something to drink, I gave him some water, hoping he could keep it down. Of course, he could not.
"Mommy, all that water is making my tummy explode!"
That same day, we had a dead tree cut down in our side yard. It was an impressive display of ropes and chainsaws, but was pretty upsetting to O, and just the sight of the resulting firewood would make him a little sad in the weeks after. "I want them not to cut our tree down."
One day recently, he added: "Mom, the day those men came and took our tree down, that was a bad day." I reassured him that it was okay, we told the men they could cut it down, and that we had been worried the tree might fall on our house or on our neighbors'.
"No, Mom. That was a bad day because that day I was shooting fire out of my mouth."
This is funny in its own right, but is also revealing about a story that O. has consistently told me about a dream he has that when he was a baby he was a dragon that could shoot fire. It's fascinating to me that this could be his way of explaining to me a traumatic memory of his first experience vomiting, which occurred when he was around 18 months old.
Other interesting conversations:
"Do you remember when we were adventuring when the dinosaurs were alive? And the sharp tooth thought you were a rock, and he jumped so high over you? But you weren't a rock. You were a mom. But that was a long time ago."
"I had a dream about my friends and we were in a big string thing. And Spiderman came and we told him we didn't need saved. And there were no holes in the net. So why did he try to save us?"
"Okay. If the lights are on, it's a show. But if you turn them off, it's a movie."
"I like apples without skin on them. That's just how God made me."
N., for her part, has developed into a little bit of a talker.
Among her current favorite words:
- Nye Nye (night night): This one is almost always accompanied by a request for a kiss. She runs to O., bends down right in front of his face and opens her mouth wide until he deigns to turn to her and share a peck.
- Bye bye
- Uh Oh: spoken when ANYTHING is dropped on the ground, signaling the dog to come running.
- Coat: She often goes to the closet and demands to have her red coat on by saying this repeatedly.
- Up: complete with outstretched arms
- All Done: usually to gain release from her booster, now that she refuses to stay seated in her high chair.
- Baby: this is a new one, but now she has an all purpose name for the growing family of dolls that can be found in alarming poses all over the floor.
- Cuckoo: I have no idea what this word means, but she says it all the time. I try not to take it personally.
Animal mania has been passed from first to second born, as a good portion of N's vocabulary is devoted to animal noises. My favorites continue to be those for "horse" (a good spitty raspberry sound), "cat" (a crinkling of the nose as if to hiss ), and "pig" (La La La. As in: "Cows go Moo, Sheep go Baa, Three Singing Pigs Go La La La" for you Sandra Boynton fans).
Although her own words are few, it's clear she understands almost everything that is said in her presence. If you even mention the word "pajamas," she heads for the stairs. At least she's eager for bedtime, even if she STILL doesn't stay asleep all night. Ask if she is stinky, she points to her pants, or goes to the basket where we keep the diapering supplies. At any mention of the car or outside, she appears at your side with a pair of shoes.
It's a dreary month, January. But at least there's plenty to talk about.