Posts Tagged ‘Children’

I’m Still Hopeful Though, Son, So . . . There’s That

March 15, 2018

Okay . . . I lied on Monday when I said what I was about to say applied to nobody I was currently in contact with.  I didn’t do so purposefully, but not long after I had posted that I realized I had lied nevertheless . . . as soon as I looked at myself in the mirror.

Yeah . . .

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“Currently”

March 13, 2018

I want to say up front that what I’m about to say applies to nobody I am currently in contact with, but sometimes the only thing you can do is look at somebody and hope against hope that they don’t mess up their children too much.

But To Be Fair, I AM The Only One Who Can Do The Voice

October 21, 2013

An important milestone in any child’s development is when they are old enough to start playing “pretend.”  I knew this.

I never expected to be insulted by it though.

L., as I’ve mentioned before as recently as last Friday, loves Thomas & Friends, and recently he’s started to pretend that he’s Percy.  His mother has been cast in the role of Thomas (Percy’s best friend), and Lala is now Emily (a cute and friendly engine who is green like Percy).

And who do I get to be?

I get to be Diesel 10 (the villain).

Thanks, son, just . . . thanks.

This is about the alphabet joke, isn’t it?

This Is NOT A Good Sign

October 18, 2013

Today L. looked up at me in surprise when I asked, just to make the next fifteen minutes different from the prior, that he please not keep repeating the same lines from Thomas and the Magic Railroad over and over and over again.  Then he silently gathered up his toys and went to play in his room with the door shut for half an hour.

When your two-year-old decides to give you some space, it’s definitely time to rethink your mood.

Come To Think, I React The Same Way To Someone Telling ME To Smile Too

October 16, 2013

I should prelude this by explaining that whenever L. and I are watching videos on YouTube, I frequently end up telling him to “ignore the ad.”  Being two, he almost as frequently tells me to “ignore the ad,” but I had my doubts he really understood what he was saying.

Until yesterday.  (Yes, I should have known better.)

Lala had taken L. to the playground, you see, and was trying to get him to pose for a picture, and I’m told the exchange went something like this:

Lala:  “Hold still, I wanna take your picture.  Smiiiiile!”

L.:  (Walking on by without looking up.)  “Ignore the Lala.”

Communication Established (Part Three)

July 26, 2013

Now admittedly, this is less of a “joke” and more of a “proto-joke,” but it went something like this:

L.:  “Like a yellow?”

Us:  (Thinking this is one his standard vague toddler requests.) “A yellow what?”

L.:  “Like a red?”

Us:  “A red what?”

L:  “Like an orange?”

Us:  “An orange what?”

L:  *giggling*  “Like an orange!”

Us:  “Oh!  You want an orange!  I get it!”

So it’s not that funny, but to use a phrase that L. is fond of after he heard me say it:

“It’s a little funny!”  (And it’s definitely not a bad first attempt at a joke considering he’s two.)

Good job, son.

Communication Established (Part Two)

July 25, 2013

This shouldn’t have surprised me too much though.  It was only a few weeks back that L. had another little language breakthrough which won’t sound that impressive unless you’ve had long-term dealings with a screaming toddler:

Understand that L’s not a screamer . . . as a rule, but one of the exceptions to that rule is when he’s put into time-out.  From the commotion he makes you’d think there was something truly horrific in his room with him, but I assure you the most horrific thing in his room is his diaper pail.  For weeks I tried to no avail to get across to him that screaming only kept him in time-out longer, then one day when I asked him, “Are you done screaming yet?” he gulped and answered, “I’m done screaming,” and stopped screaming, thus ending the time-out.

It took him a few tries to really get the concept, as evidenced by the time he screamed over and over again that he was done screaming, but overall it was a major communications breakthrough for us.

Naturally, that meant his first attempt at a joke wasn’t too far behind.

Communication Established (Part One)

July 24, 2013

As I’ve mentioned before, L., being two, is at an awkward developmental stage when it comes to communication.  Put simply, sometimes we understand what the other is trying to say, and sometimes we don’t.

The other morning, for instance, it was time for him to get out of bed.  He knew this (thanks to an alarm clock which turns on a green light when it’s time) and I knew this, but unfortunately, I wasn’t available to get him since I was (figuratively) juggling an awkward situation that couldn’t be safely interrupted, and I was trying to explain this to him.

L.:    “It’s green!”

Me:  “I know it is.  I’ll be there soon.  Soon as I can.”

L.:    “It’s green!  Green means get out!”

Me:  “It sure does.  Soon but . . .”  (Wracking my brains for words I know are in his vocabulary.)  “Daddy’s stuck right now.”  (As soon as I said it, I thought, He’s not going to understand that, “stuck” is a funny play word to him.)

L.:    [Pause]  “Don’t be stuck, Daddy.” (A unique sentence that, to the best of my knowledge, he wasn’t just parroting from another source.)

Me:  [Pause]  “I’m working on it.” (While thinking, Okay, clearly I was wrong!)

An Artist In Training

June 21, 2013

I should preface this by explaining that L. is “passingly fond” of Thomas the Tank Engine, and by “passingly fond,” I mean he’s obsessed by everything about the show.  Long before I could identify the trains by sight, he was correcting me on their names, and recently his game with them has become “go find.”  Now this isn’t a problem when it’s “go find” a train he actually has, but sometimes he wants to “go find” a train he’s seen on the show, but that we don’t have.

So when I was out the other day and saw a train for sale that he didn’t have but has been trying to “find” for a while now (Spencer), I thought it would be fun to buy it for him, take it out of the package and place it on his bed, then wait a bit before asking if he wanted to “go find” Spencer.  To my satisfaction, he was predictably delighted that he had finally “found” Spencer.

This lasted all of three seconds.

Then he looked at me and asked “Go find Bill and Ben?”  (Two other trains he doesn’t have.)

Congrats, kiddo.  I think you just ran your first solo con.

(I’d feel worse about falling for this, but, honestly, some of the time I used to write this entry only came about because he went off again to “go find” Diesel 10.  I really should pick one of those up for you, kiddo, and I will.)

(Someday.)

“L. Is A GOOD Boy!”

April 18, 2013

As a brief intermission/observation at the end of a particularly frustrating day, I would just like to say here and now that my son, L., is a good boy.  No matter how bad my day has been, no matter what the future brings, I will never forget that.

This is in no small part because he has told me this fact a minimum of once a day for over a month now.