Wednesday, April 23, 2014

Prius

And there was in the days of R. Dudlius a most curious practice by those who dwelled in the inhabited world. Each man had to himself a carriage made of iron and animated by a magicke most subtill, and they called these carriages "automobiles." These carriages were drawn by no horse and consumed no food, yet they drave as fast as meteors and roared a terrible sound. Of their magicke it is impossible to speak or understand, save only the sorcerers which are called "mechanicks." These iron carriages were wont to belch smoke and make noxious smell, and wheresoever they went was laid down black asphalt over the sweet grass, and many towers of stone and brick. The dwellers of the world in those days knew not the scents of meadows or dirt footpaths, nor had their fathers or grandfathers ever known them. Their learning was most quaynte, for of numbers and some magicke there were endless bookes, but of letters there was little knowledge. When James Bear, the son of R. Dudlius, beheld the iron carriages he loved them in his hearte and yearned to wash them, each one.

It happened that R. Dudlius and his wife drove two carriages. The first was traitorous and ever devysed evils against R. Dudlius. In time R. Dudlius waxed wroth and sold the faithless carriage. R. Dudlius bought for his wife a blacke carriage which shone as a polished stone, and it's name was Corolla. His other was called Neon, as was the name of the swift black ships of the Achaians. This carriage was ever faithful to the service of R. Dudlius, until a daemon troubled its bowels and no magicke could mend its sickness.

When his carriage had died R. Dudlius took up strong lament, for all of his gold and every precious thing had been lost to buy the shining carriage of his wife. Yet his brother Calvus the priest did give ear to his lamente, and he made present of his own carriage for R. Dudlius using in great brotherly kyndness.

The carriage of Calvus ran by a more powerful magicke than any yet seen, for all swich are locked and drawn and given fyre by keys, yet there was no key unto his. It's name was Prius, which in the tongue of our men means "earlier." When R. Dudlius drave the Prius it made no sound, nor did it pour forth black smoke. The feet of R. Dudlius grew dumb upon their pedals, for there was no lever by which R. Dudlius should shift the engynes, nor were his hands able to govern the carriage as was his wont. Yet this Prius seemed pleasant to him for driving, and it was exceeding swift and silent. It did not burn precious oils as is the habit of other carriages, and a sorcerous eye aspeckted hindwards by which R. Dudlius might see behind him.

R. Dudlius gave much thanksgiving and many fine gifts to Calvus the priest, and to his wife and to his infant son, who Calvus son of Thomas Richardes had christened "Silas." Of R. Dudlius' son, James the Bear, there were woeful tidings. On the great feast of Easter R. Dudlius and his wife had labored hard to blow the trumpet in the Great King's name at many churches. James the Bear grew weary with pilgrimage, and then became addled with sweet candies and cakes. He rose early in the morning and searched for hollow eggs with much sweetness inside. The son of R. Dudlius ate gluttonously and became gorged on his sweets, and then his limbs were set trembling and madness seized his mind. For a day and a night he was changed from boy to beast, and terrible were his shrieks. The wife of R. Dudlius grew stern, and when the madness passed she declared with a heavy oath that such sweets were unlawful. And thus passed the feast of Easter for R. Dudlius and his house.

Monday, April 21, 2014

Potty Training

When J texted me that James had successfully gone on the potty, my first instinct was to text back "Great, don't put it on facebook." On the one hand, I know very well how overjoyed a parent must be that their child has learned to use the potty and has now begun the journey out of diapers and diaper-changing. On the other hand, the disgusting details of each successful potty trip are updates I don't need to know. Especially when I'm eating.

When I came home that night I clapped and hollered for James and asked him if he wanted to go again. ("No.") We'd been trying to bribe him with cookies for months, and he flatly denied every attempt to get him onto the pot voluntarily. I'm not sure what changed for him this time, but he proudly announced to me that he got "two cookies" (actually three animal crackers) when he related the events of the evening. 

The next day I was home with him, and I attempted all morning to get him onto the potty again. No luck. At J's suggestion I bought a bag of skittles at Wegmans, since they are much smaller than chocolate chip cookies and they are James' favorite candy. (And, though this was in no way related to her suggestion, J's favorite candy.) I showed them to James when I got home and I told me "Oh, I want THOSE cookies!"

I had him on my own that afternoon, and to my great excitement he finally said he'd like to sit on the potty again when I asked him for the four hundredth time. He hopped up, paused for a second, and then said "I wanna cookie." I peered into the basin to inspect the results, and couldn't see any sign he'd done anything. 

"Sorry James, you need to put some pee in the potty if you want a cookie."

No luck. He began fussing at me and begging for the iPad, and when I finally took him off the potty ten minutes later he was downright cross. It was just about suppertime, so I dumped the grumpy bear in his high chair and made him a peanut butter and jelly. He sat with one elbow up resting his head on his hand half-eating and half-smearing his sandwich all over his face. By this point I really needed to go to the bathroom, so I left the grouch alone in the kitchen.

When I entered the bathroom, I saw what I'd missed earlier. He did go to the potty.

I walked back out, and he looked up at me glumly. I knelt down and said in a soft voice "James, you did go to the potty, didn't you?" He nodded. "And Daddy didn't believe you. James, I looked but I didn't see it. Will you forgive Daddy?"

He stared back at me for a second and then his eyes started to well and his whole face scrunched up. He threw the peanut butter and jelly sandwich down and reached out, crying and begging "Daddy, Daddy, hold you! Daddy hold you!"

"Oh James, I'm so sorry. You did such a good job going on the potty, and I didn't even see it!"

"Daddy, I want GOOkie! Please gookie, Daddy." He wiped his peanut butter mouth and his runny nose on my shoulder while I retrieved the bag of skittles. 

I set him back down and pulled out four skittles. Still trembling, he looked up.

"No, I want TWO cookies."

I put down one more skittle. 

"Is that two, James?"

"Okay."

He went again (at his own asking) once more that night, and immediately asked for "cookies" again. When J pulled him out of the bath and wrapped him in a towel before bed, he looked at her, tensed for a moment, and then declared to her "I want cookie." I don't think very much of it got through the towel, but she did get a little wet.

That night we put him into bed as proud as any two parents could be. And he lay in the dark with deep fish overhead, snuggling George and Steven and looking up at his picture of "three tractors." There are actually six. He counts them 1, 2, 1, 2, 1, 3!

Maybe after potty-training we'll work on counting.

Tuesday, April 8, 2014

The Lexicon

It's been lovely to hold newborn babies again. Silas and Abby are both super cute, and their parents are justifiably glowing. James, who often looks small compared to my 4th grade trumpet students, suddenly looks enormous while standing next to the new cousins. He also feels very heavy. I remember when he was little and helpless like them, and I even remember some of the quirks that made him uniquely James. But already he's walking and talking, and no longer a little baby. Soon he'll be able to pronounce his "r"s and "l"s...which is why I am writing down his lexicon for posterity.

AH DO
(emphasis on DO) This sometimes means "I do" but can also mean "yes." For example, when we read in Curious George and the Birthday Surprise "There were hats, games, decorations, and a cake. George wondered if the surprise was a party. Was it a party?" James will respond with an enthusiastic "Ah DO!"

HA DADDY
Apparently he is from the South. I get this greeting mostly when I come home from work, but occasionally it's the first thing he says in the morning when I go to get him up from his crib.

OH
Not just oh, but "OH!" with the circumflex accent. Again, this is mostly a roundabout way of saying yes. You'll be asking him whether he wants green car (no) or red car (no) or white car (OH!) and he takes up a full minor third swooping up and down.

oKAY
This is from Alexa, and another way of saying "yes." The o is barely present, just a soft launching point for a very enthusiastic KAY!

WHAT THAT BE?
His very elegant way of asking what something is. This is also how he determines where we left the car. "Mommy, where car be?" He can't say this unless he makes a questioning gesture with both hands at the same time.

WHAT IS (x) DOING?
This started out mostly as What is Mommy doing? or What is Daddy doing? Now he asks about all kinds people, things, and abstract ideas. It sort of became his version of the passive aggressive toddler "why" tactic for a while. For example, we'd put Wii sports on with O&K, and he'd ask "What is archery doing?"

SPISH SPISH
Spish-spish is car wash. More specifically it's the first and last of five car-washing noises, according to Curious George and the Car Wash. But mostly it's the car wash down the hill from us. The meaning of life is to visit spish-spish. "Daddy, I wanna go spish-spish. What is spish-spish doing?"

I WANT SPISH SPISH UP
We are fascinated by automatic garage doors. O&K have one, and there is one on each entrance to car wash. At O&Ks he will stand in the garage, point at the open door, and repeat endlessly "I want dat down. I want dat down. I want dat down." When we finally get our shoes off and set down whatever we're carrying, someone will attempt to mollify him by hitting the door button. He will watch in rapt silence, and as soon as the door is all the way down he immediately starts in on a chorus of "I want dat up. I want dat up." We've accepted it as a fact of life that whenever we drive out of our apartment he will watch out the backseat window to see whether the car wash exit door is open or closed, and then immediately plead for the opposite.

MOMMY'S CAR/DADDY'S CAR/NEW CAR
Mommy's car (the PT Cruiser) is no longer with us, replaced by a 2009 Toyota Corolla. But the Cruiser is not forgotten to James. He regularly asks to ride in it, and to take it through the car wash. We are awfully fond of new car--he's been including it in night time prayers ever since we bought it--but if he's put in his car seat in New Car, he immediately asks to ride in Daddy's Car.

OO-AH/DEE-DEE/NOTHER ONE DEE-DEE
One of our babysitters greeted Julie on the front porch the other day asking her whether she knew what an "oo-ah-dee-dee" was. (Another babysitter also told her that she couldn't figure out what "pish-pish" meant.) Oo-Ah is his stuffed Curious George, and Dee-Dee is the much beloved Steven Bear. He is perfectly capable of pronouncing both real names, but I think that Oo-Ah will only be George when we're reading about him. He does have a back up Steven Bear in considerably whiter condition who is called 'Nother One Dee-Dee. (Other Steven.)

WOOF-WOOF/MOW-MOW
Dogs and cats, of course. Since we love the Curious George TV series so much we've gotten to calling all black terriers Sharie (Charki) all weiner-looking dogs Hunny (Hundley) and any gray kittens Noogie. (Gnocchi.) For a while we thought that Grandma Davis would also be called Mow-Mow, but he's gotten better at saying Grandma.

GOOKIE
Strong accent on the first part of the word. We know we get gookies whenever we go to Wegmans, and whenever cookies are even mentioned James immediately exclaims that he wants a Gookie TOO! It didn't take him long to figure out that this phrase can be improved by reordering the words and saying "I want TWO Gookies!"

WIFE
James always asks for his wife in the morning. Not his spouse, of course, but a bowl of Life cereal. (Sometimes this comes out as "yife.") Even when he is actually in the mood for shredded wheat, he asks for wife first.

WAWER/WADUH
He's been getting much closer to the actual pronunciation of water, but prefers in all instances to drink juice. Still, even waduh is preferable to having milk in one's sippy cup. (For a long time just pronounced "mmm")

YEKYA
Sweet Alexa Hamway, his lady fair. James is always ready to play Yekya. On extra special days he gets to visit "Yekya's house" (And play TOYS) It's always interesting to see "whose" house he considers it to be. Hilltop, for example, is Aunt Kyee's house. My parents' place is Nama's house, and Julie's childhood home is Grandma's house. James' room, however is "me-yoom"

YOU
This is James. If James wants to be held he asks "Daddy hold YOU." And if you correct him and say "me," he will tell correct you back and say "no, YOU." It can be kind of confusing. I recently gave him the red engine number 5, who is also named James. This train is only referred to as "You."

DO ADAIN
Do again. Usually accompanied by vigorous chest rubbing, recalling the sign for "please" he used to make when he was little, and sometimes further specification about what he'd like to repeat. ("Do adain SPISH-SPISH.")

REED OOH-AH/REE-AH
This means that James would like you to read him a Curious George book out loud. Since this happens about 40-50 times a day (not exaggerating) he will often shorten "reed ooh-ah" to "ree-ah, ree-ah!"

DEEP FISH
Still not sure what this one means or where it came from, but he has a projector feature on his noise machine that shows an image of colorful fish on the ceiling at bedtime. Even when it's already on he'll ask for "deep fish" once we finish prayers. I don't know what he thinks about them, but it's a sweet final request before he goes down for the night.