Caleb-isms

(wanted to write this post last week, but between caring for a sick husband and losing a lot of free time to a new computer game I'm smitten with ((ahem)), it didn't happen. My apologies :)

We don't hear the pitter patter of little feet much in our house. More like the STOMP STOMP of size 9 boy's feet as they jump off his bed, the couch, the chair, and any other furniture that grants him altitude.

Visitors often jerk in alarm when they hear Caleb "taking his nap." His bedroom floor is all wood and reverberates like a drum, so even driving a Hot Wheels car off his little table sounds like a stampeding elephant. And he likes to drive all his cars off his table, at the same time. So it sounds more like a herd of elephants plowing over a marching band in the middle of a drum solo at a heavy metal rock concert. Every single afternoon.

"Oh! is he ok?" people ask when they hear a particularly loud CRASH. I cock my head and listen carefully for the sound of tears and little pleas of "Hee-op! Hee-op!" (read: Help! Help!) If I don't hear them, I smile at whoever is visiting and say,
"Oh yes, he's fine. This is normal for him."

Then they go home wondering what kind of mother I am.

Heh.

We call him our goofball. He calls us Mah-Mee and Dah-Dee. (sometimes he calls me Dah-Dee, too . . . still working on that one). And not a day goes by when Jason and I don't look at each other and ask just how we ended up with such a cute little boy.

A little boy who will scour the whole house for pillows, build them up into a enormous pile in our livingroom, and then dive bomb off the couch on top of them. "Dah-Dee! Dah-Dee! Pee-yow (pillow)! Mountain!"

A little boy who will hold my hand as I walk him to school, allow me to help him out of his jacket, then turns and says "Bye-bye, Mah-Mee!" (Because clearly, I am no longer needed).

A little boy who loves his cartoons, especially Pee-Pan (Pink Panther), Oso (which he says perfectly . . . gotta love Spanish, even if you don't love Oso!), Tain (which means Trains, which means Chuggington, a new show on Playhouse Disney), and Ah-May (Animaniacs . . . you should hear him try to pronounce THAT one ;).

As Caleb's vocabulary increases (and it certainly has), so does mine and Jay's. We must be much more creative now when we talk about certain food-related items, such as the Liquid Fruit Product (juice) and Fried Potatoes (fries). Carbonated Beverage stands in for soda (because there's nothing Caleb loves quite so much as soda . . . they sure learn young, don't they??) and Frozen Dairy Product means ice cream.

Whatever will we do when Caleb's old enough to understand those euphemisms?

We'll learn Russian. That's what.

We hear lots of words from our son these days, all spoken in that sweet little boy voice that cannot yet pronounce the letter "L".

He looks for his bear at naptime and cries "Found!" when he finds it. If it's good and lost, he wanders around saying "Where go? Where go?"

First thing in the morning, after racing out of his room, he climbs up on his barstool and says "Eat!" Then he grins at me shyly and whispers "Cereo, cereo" until I pour him some Honey Oh's! cereal. Hold the milk. (He prefers his cereal dry) And when he's finished that? "Mor-uh, Mor-uh!"

I think he could eat Honey Oh's! morning, noon, and night. I need to find a place that sells it in bulk.

At night, he asks for a "stor-ee" before bed. He likes to brush his "teef" all by himself. And when he successfully puts on his shoes (with a little help) he cries exuberantly: "Ah dih it! Ah dih it!"

Oh my. He melts my heart hourly.

He's more adorable now than the day he was born.

I didn't think that was possible.

And I've decided three is going to be a good year. :)