The little guy is now 3 years old, and I feel inspired again to start blogging, to catch the silly things he says.  Older son is so much older that he’s almost rational, most of the time.

So, here is a post, in the weird English tradition of my prior blogging.  Sam (little guy) is at the stage of speaking and understanding extremely well.  Except that once in a while you realize that his version of English is sort of a version from a parallel universe, just slightly different.

One example is that in Sam’s English there is a word, “wrap-around thing.”  The first wrap-around thing was the white belt Gus (older brother) earned in a short tae kwan do course that he took.  In fact, that belt was pretty much what I thought a “wrap-around thing” was, for a few weeks.  I tried to explain that it was a belt, and to refer to it as a belt, but when you’re interested in it mostly for its ability to wrap around stuffed animals and whatnot (say, if you were pretending to truss a crocodile) it’s much more logical to call it the wrap-around thing.

Then, a few weeks ago, I realized that he was using the same phrase, wrap-around thing, to refer to other rope-type things.  For instance, I am trying to turn some old fabric into a rag rug, one step of which requires cutting the fabric into strips.  Those long strips are also “wrap-around things.”

So, then, a couple of days ago, when I was unpackaging something, I actually don’t remember what, it was some kind of grocery item, there was a piece of string.  I almost threw it into the recycling, when suddenly I had the thought, “hey, this is a great wrap-around thing.”

So, not only do preschoolers have their own languages, their languages affect those around them.  If you pay attention to them.

Happy Fourth of July weekend!  I am going to try again for the “new post on Friday” promise, at least for a few weeks.  So I hope you’ll stay tuned.

The other thing Piper started doing is reading books to Enrico, which he loves.  If these two are as close as adults as they are now, Scott and I will have done our jobs.

He has also turned into a typical two-year-old.  The other day, when he asked Scott for more cereal, Scott said, “finish what you have and I’ll give you more.”  He got so angry that the grabbed his bowl of cereal (with milk) and threw it at Scott.  Two things about that.  First, if you say “no throwing,” “no hitting,” or “no [fill in the blank],” even in a non-stern voice, he will cry as if his favorite toy was taken away — so he can dish it out, but he cannot take it.  Second, when Piper says, “finish what you have and I’ll give you more,” he smiles and says, “Ok, Pupoo.”

And like a typical two-year-old, he swings to the other extreme.  He can be so warm, wonderful and cuddly.  He loves kissing, hugging and laughing.  He runs toward one of us, throws his arms around our legs and yells, “Huggie”!

Finally, about a month ago, he started singing.  The first song I heard him sing was “Happy Birthday.”  Now he tried to sing the ABC song, Row the boat and Old McDonald.  Also about a month ago, he started counting.  He counts to 10, but consistently skips 5 and 8.

All in all, I (1) cannot believe what a gift this child is and that I get to keep him and raise him, and (2) dread the day when he leaves me.

1.  This morning, she read a book to Enrico for the first time.  It was “Llama llama red pajama.”

2.  Yesterday, she told me that she has a son named Rikie, a dad named Rike, big Rike, and a husband named Tyler (which also just happens to be the name of one of her classmates).  She was going to grandma’s wedding and she wishes she could bring Rikie with her, but he is sick and Tyler has to stay home with him.

3.  A couple of days ago, her friend showed her how to play ping-pong, and 10 minutes later she was telling Scott in a really condescending tone, “Daddy, you cannot wait for the ball to come to you.  You have to go where the ball is.”

4.  When Enrico destroyed her friend’s block structure, she told her friend, “It’s ok, he’s just a baby, he doesn’t know any better.”

5.  She LOVES her little brother and wants to hug him, kiss him and take care of him all the time.  When I asked her to take care of Enrico one morning while I take a shower, Piper said, “Do you want me to feed him?”

I will try to keep posting new things as I remember them about Piper.

(Holding his “lovey,” which is a stuffed animal dog)  ”Mommy, what is doggy’s name?”

“I don’t know honey, that’s a good question.  Did you give him a name?”

“Yes.”

“You did?  That’s wonderful! What is doggy’s name?”

(Very excited and happy.)  ”His name is doggy!”

“Oh.”

“Mommy!”

“Yes.”

“What is doggy’s name?”

(In the car on the way home from day care after work.)  ”Mommy, can I have a Starburst?”

“No.  Maybe after dinner, if you eat your dinner.”

(Shrieks.)  ”Mommy, I hate your car!  This is a bad car!”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.  Why do you hate my car?”

“Because I hate your car!”

“Oh.  But why?”

“This is a bad car!”

“Why?”

“Because this is a bad car.”

Sigh.

And then my older one is six, which means that he’s much more philosophical than he was just a year ago.  Heck, six months ago.  I will transcribe some of this evening’s conversation, to try to illustrate:

(Background information:  we just found a new apartment, where we’ll move in April.)

A few minutes after dinner:

“Mom, what is a landlord?”

“If you rent your apartment, like this one, or our new one, it’s the person who is in charge.  The person you pay the rent to, and who has to fix it if something is wrong.”

“Oh.”

About ten minutes later:

“Mom, where did people live if they never had a house before?  The first time?”

“Well, do you mean homeless people?”

“No, wait. I mean, like, before there were any houses, how did people know where to live?”

“Like in the caveman days?”

“No, like now, but before there were houses.”

“There were houses even in the caveman days.  People always made houses out of what was available.  Caves, trees.”

“Oh.”  (pause, furrows brow)

“Do you mean, what happened before there were all these houses, how do we know that people have their houses in different places?  Like why we can stay here, someone else over there?”

“Yeah, like that.”

“Well, that is a good question.  People decided to make it that way.  I pay money, and then the rules say that we can use this place and nobody else can come in here unless we say so.”

“Oh, okay.”

“That is why some people are homeless.  They don’t have any money to pay for a place to live.  We are lucky because we could always go live with Bapa or something, but imagine if you didn’t have any family.”

“Yeah, that would be sad.”

About ten minutes later:

(Sad face, sigh)

“What’s wrong, Gus?”

“I’m just feeling sad.  For the people in Haiti and”

“And the homeless people?”

“Yeah, the ones in Haiti.”

(And about ten minutes later, playing with the couch cushions, along with his brother.)

(Brother) “Gus, give me that pillow.”

Gus:  ”No, I am using it.”

“Give me that pillow!  I need it!  It will hide me.”

“No, Sam, you have all the other pillows.”

“It’s not fa-yeeerr!  Give me that pillow, I want that pillow!”

“No, Sam, I am using it.”

“It’s not fair! It’s not fair!  It’s not fa-yeeerr!”

(Gus, half asleep.) “Life is not fair, Sam.  You can’t have everything you want.”

The dictator didn’t like to hear that.

Scott: “Enrico, do you want daddy to help you?”

Enrico: “No daddy.”

Then I piped in: “Enrico, do you want to see Miss Alejandra?”

Enrico: “Jandra!”

Me: “Then let daddy help you put on your sock, otherwise, we’ll be late.”

Enrico handed the sock over to Scott and let him put it on.  This was the first real conversation we had with our baby!

In December, we were in New York for three weeks, where both Scott and I were logging 14-hour work days.  Our kids were at daycare, and when they weren’t, they were pretty much watching TV the whole time.  One morning, when Enrico (18 months at the time) woke up, he said to me, “Gaba,” demanding his then-favorite show, Yo Gaba Gaba.  I, feeling bad about the amount of TV he’d been watching, said, “maybe later, baby.”  He looked at me with his huge blue eyes and then said in that adorable baby voice, “now”!

In a normal non-crazy world, I would have cut him loose form TV.  At that time, however, all I could do was put on Yo Gaba Gaba because I had some work to do, and as it turns out, daycare is not open on weekends.

When the doctor came in, I told him that I was concerned that Piper was a lot more advanced at 18 months than Enrico.  In response, the doctor said, “so, he’ll be a pediatrician,” and I said, “I’ll take it.”  All in all, a good visit.  I think we’ll stay with this doctor.