Thursday, June 26, 2008
Seven words you do NOT want to hear while driving down the interstate in your new minivan...
Mommy, I got bean in my nose!
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Cock-a-Doodle-Doo!
As many of you know, Cate is a very verbal two-year-old. Although so far this has been a source of joy and entertainment we sense that the day of embarrassing comments in the grocery store is on the horizon.
Today we had a sneak preview of what is in store for us.
The scene: Chris, Erin, Cate & Ben walk into church. Other parishoners are sitting quietly in their seats, waiting for the service to begin.
Cate bounds into the sanctuary ahead of us, stops dead in her tracks, looks around and, in her outside voice, says, "WHERE JESUS?"
Chris and I exchange glances, trying not to smile. We look for an open pew and shepherd Cate inside. We sit down. Cate looks up and says, "WHERE JESUS MOMMY?"
Being completely unprepared to have this particular discussion at this particular point in time with a two-year-old I whisper an explanation, "Well, uh, Jesus isn't really here. Well, he's here--I mean--Jesus is everywhere...but..."
By this point Cate has completely forgotten Jesus and is onto a new topic of conversation. The next 15 minutes pass as follows:
C (staring at the gray-haired woman sitting behind us): WHAT THAT GRANDMA DOING?
Me: (in a whisper): Praying. We need to use a quiet voice.
C: NO. WHAT THAT BOY WEARING?
Me: Cate, you can talk to Mommy and Daddy but you need to whisper because we're in church.
C: NO. WHY THAT GIRL GOT A PINK DRESS? WHAT ON THAT WINDOW? WHAT THAT LITTLE GIRL READING? WHERE MY CHEERIOS? I GOT AN M&M IN THERE? I DO! IT A GREEN M&M. WHERE BEN TOY? BEN NO WANT TOY. BEN WANT BOTTLE. BEN HUNGRY. I TAKE MY BOOTS OFF. I NEED HELP TAKE MY BOOTS OFF. I GOT MY BOOTS OFF! LOOK, MOMMY! I GOT LITTLE TINY TOES.
I am a firm believer in the adage that behavior that is reinforced gets repeated. Anyone who has interacted with a toddler for more than five minutes knows that laughing or smiling at a behavior will guarantee that you will see said behavior again.
And again.
And again.
The people sitting around us were openly smirking at Cate's running commentary while I calmly, without so much as a twitch in facial muscles reminded Cate of the importance of being quiet in chruch and suggested that we look at a book. Books are, after all, a quiet activity and I hoped this would, at the very least, get us through the sermon.
This was a slight miscalculation on my part.
Among other things this particular book featured farm animals. Cate glanced at the first page and said, "COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO."
Very, very loudly.
(Dear reader, I must say that I never expected to be the parent of the child making animal noises in church and was, therefore, quite unprepared for this moment).
Cate, sensing her moment to shine, continued, "COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO! COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO!"
I tried to suppress a giggle but it was too late. Chris smiled. Cate saw us smile and it was all over.
She gleefully chanted, "COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO! COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO!" all the way to the cry room.
Today we had a sneak preview of what is in store for us.
The scene: Chris, Erin, Cate & Ben walk into church. Other parishoners are sitting quietly in their seats, waiting for the service to begin.
Cate bounds into the sanctuary ahead of us, stops dead in her tracks, looks around and, in her outside voice, says, "WHERE JESUS?"
Chris and I exchange glances, trying not to smile. We look for an open pew and shepherd Cate inside. We sit down. Cate looks up and says, "WHERE JESUS MOMMY?"
Being completely unprepared to have this particular discussion at this particular point in time with a two-year-old I whisper an explanation, "Well, uh, Jesus isn't really here. Well, he's here--I mean--Jesus is everywhere...but..."
By this point Cate has completely forgotten Jesus and is onto a new topic of conversation. The next 15 minutes pass as follows:
C (staring at the gray-haired woman sitting behind us): WHAT THAT GRANDMA DOING?
Me: (in a whisper): Praying. We need to use a quiet voice.
C: NO. WHAT THAT BOY WEARING?
Me: Cate, you can talk to Mommy and Daddy but you need to whisper because we're in church.
C: NO. WHY THAT GIRL GOT A PINK DRESS? WHAT ON THAT WINDOW? WHAT THAT LITTLE GIRL READING? WHERE MY CHEERIOS? I GOT AN M&M IN THERE? I DO! IT A GREEN M&M. WHERE BEN TOY? BEN NO WANT TOY. BEN WANT BOTTLE. BEN HUNGRY. I TAKE MY BOOTS OFF. I NEED HELP TAKE MY BOOTS OFF. I GOT MY BOOTS OFF! LOOK, MOMMY! I GOT LITTLE TINY TOES.
I am a firm believer in the adage that behavior that is reinforced gets repeated. Anyone who has interacted with a toddler for more than five minutes knows that laughing or smiling at a behavior will guarantee that you will see said behavior again.
And again.
And again.
The people sitting around us were openly smirking at Cate's running commentary while I calmly, without so much as a twitch in facial muscles reminded Cate of the importance of being quiet in chruch and suggested that we look at a book. Books are, after all, a quiet activity and I hoped this would, at the very least, get us through the sermon.
This was a slight miscalculation on my part.
Among other things this particular book featured farm animals. Cate glanced at the first page and said, "COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO."
Very, very loudly.
(Dear reader, I must say that I never expected to be the parent of the child making animal noises in church and was, therefore, quite unprepared for this moment).
Cate, sensing her moment to shine, continued, "COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO! COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO!"
I tried to suppress a giggle but it was too late. Chris smiled. Cate saw us smile and it was all over.
She gleefully chanted, "COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO! COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO!" all the way to the cry room.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Monday, June 9, 2008
Sunday, June 1, 2008
Nicknames
Naming a child is an awesome responsibility (especially with a last name like ours).
We, of course, tried out every permutation of the names we considered to see whether they had the potential to cause our child to get teased in the lunchroom or beat up on the playground. Once we thought we'd found an acceptable name we put it to further test---with our brothers.
In two short years Cate has accumulated a number of nicknames: KitCat, Sweet Pea, Honey Bunny, Bug, Little Boo, Charlie Brown, Peanut. Although Ben shares some of these more generic terms of endearment (e.g., Peanut, Bug) he’s acquired quite a few of his own: Ben-Jammin’, Jammy, Jammy Jammerson, Little Buddy, Little Guy.
In recent weeks, Cate has bestowed a new nickname on Ben, one that we never anticipated: Benj-a-Mini. As in, “Good morning Benj-a-Mini” or “Where my Benj-a-Mini?” or “I love my Benj-a-Mini.” Although it makes him sound a little like a kitchen appliance (“Get the new Benj-a-Mini! It slices, it dices, it even purees!”) it somehow suits him quite nicely.
We, of course, tried out every permutation of the names we considered to see whether they had the potential to cause our child to get teased in the lunchroom or beat up on the playground. Once we thought we'd found an acceptable name we put it to further test---with our brothers.
In two short years Cate has accumulated a number of nicknames: KitCat, Sweet Pea, Honey Bunny, Bug, Little Boo, Charlie Brown, Peanut. Although Ben shares some of these more generic terms of endearment (e.g., Peanut, Bug) he’s acquired quite a few of his own: Ben-Jammin’, Jammy, Jammy Jammerson, Little Buddy, Little Guy.
In recent weeks, Cate has bestowed a new nickname on Ben, one that we never anticipated: Benj-a-Mini. As in, “Good morning Benj-a-Mini” or “Where my Benj-a-Mini?” or “I love my Benj-a-Mini.” Although it makes him sound a little like a kitchen appliance (“Get the new Benj-a-Mini! It slices, it dices, it even purees!”) it somehow suits him quite nicely.
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