You've done it again, Mr. Magee

We got back from a trip to a local farm/ice cream place yesterday afternoon, and Daniel was chattering on at the dinner table after H got home. He was talking about statues and flags and I realized he must still be thinking about our long weekend trip to Wellsboro, PA. There was a small park with lots of cool statues and fountains to look at and grassy areas to run on and tulips to see. Then he popped out with: John Magee, and I about fell off my chair.

The first time through the park we saw the monuments to soldiers, and the fountain with Winkin Blinkin and Nod as the centerpiece. We missed the bust statue, and went back to it on our next go-round to the park. To no one in particular I remember reading the name John Magee, and a small piece about his founding a railroad.

Apparently my kid is even more of a little sponge than I thought.

Well, if you insist...

Daniel is actually pretty up on the whole idea of "please" and "thank you." And he's even moved into using "you're welcome" without my really trying - just the osmosis of hearing me use it. What cracks me up is when he gets absorbed in something like Curious George, or driving many of his 8,459,876 cars around and we have an exchange that goes something like this:

Daniel: More MILK!

Me: Don't you mean, "More milk please?"

Daniel: OK.

Like the whole milk thing is totally my idea. Toddler psychology. Gotta love it.

Wordsmith

Daniel notices increasingly complex things, and strings together more and more complete sentences lately. I know I shouldn't be surprised, but it boggles my mind when I think of this precious little kid who used to just sit and eat (and let's be honest, pee and poop) and giggle while I whiled away the hours playing peek-a-boo with him.

Now I walk into his bedroom in the morning, and I get: Where's Dada? And upon first inspection of his new sneakers: These have lights? (No - couldn't find the light-up Cars sneakers - like his old ones - anywhere, dang-it!). We also had our first argument over lunch. Where before the question was just: Will he or won't he eat it? Yesterday he tried requesting cookies for lunch and was pretty upset when they weren't forthcoming. It's kinda fun to feel these explanations and responses more recognizably flowing between us... and he's finally sitting a (teensy) bit longer where reading books are concerned.

For us grownups, I'm always amused when lists come out like the list of banned words and phrases from Lake Superior State University. And on the addictive games front: Free Rice. A vocabulary game, for each word you get right 20 grains of rice are donated through the United Nations to help end world hunger. Give it a try!

Snot (a) Post

I haven't been able to pinpoint exactly when it happened, but Daniel has become aware of when his nose is full. This elicits much sympathy from Mama when he has a cold and is just feeling generally miserable.

Not so much when it is tantrum time and he proceeds to scream and cry himself snotty. He stops. He gets an odd look on his face, and swipes at it in a pique of fury yelling nose, Nose, NOSE!!!

Any tips on teaching a two year old how to blow his nose?

He also charmed the pants off me yesterday when during a diaper change he proceeded to start naming off body parts - not his own, but mine. Pats my arm - Mama arm. Reaches up - Mama eye. Makes hand motions until I lean closer, then pats my forehead - Mama bangs.

I almost fell over howling with laughter. Maybe it comes from us being all talk and no action about cutting his hair? We're always saying, Come here honey. Just let me cut your bangs a little bit...

Too Cute

Mommy: "AAh CHOO!!"

Baby (from the kitchen table): "Bess You!"

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From the Is It a Universal Kid Thing? Files:

Daniel has drunk from a cup with a straw ever since he gave up the boob au naturale and the very short-lived bottle. He has suddenly discovered blowing bubbles with his straws.

A new wrinkle: If you blow bubbles in one of those drink pouches like Capri Sun, and then stop, there is a fun fountain that results.

C is for Chatterbox

Since having Daniel, I've noticed my parents like to mention that I talked alot as a child. H wants to know what happened, as I am now known as a person who considers her words carefully before speaking. It sometimes must give me the appearance of being a bit shy, but it served me in good stead as an executive assistant at my former company in my former life.

Daniel's 18 month appointment was marked by the pediatrician suggesting that he might need to be evaluated for speech delay. No sooner did I panic, and begin making appointments than Daniel seemed to decide: "OK, time to talk."

He's been making up for lost time ever since. I'm not sure that I can even give an accurate count of words at this point, as his vocabulary has exploded. Mama, Dada, car, ga-ga (this has meant dog from day one, don't ask!), kitty, pig, cow, apple, milk, cookie, cracker, cheese, walk, shoes, bag, box... the list goes on.

Last night we sat in the rocking chair, for a little pre-bedtime cuddle as we usually do... he looked up at me clutching his blankie in one hand, and his "ga-ga" in the other and said, "Bed?" So I kissed him, put him in the crib and he promptly rolled over and was asleep in about 0.2 seconds. (Please don't be under the illusion that bedtime is this easy every night!).

It is an awesome, amazing and at times totally weird transition to go from being the caregiver and trying to figure them out: Is he hungry, tired, bored, need to be changed? To having them start to request things from you like "Milk?" And last night's "Bed?"

Wow.