Living naturally, most of the time.

How much more annoying could we sound?

At first it was kind of cute, my son inserting “actually” into his sentences. And then he started doing it all the time. It has been one of the first verbal habits I’ve started to find pretty annoying, actually. Damn, there it is. At first I thought it was annoying because he was using it inconsistently — accurately at times, and, at others, just as a placeholder. And then, as I’m sure anyone else might have already figured out, I realized he’s just parroting his mama who does it apparently all the time. And so to my parents, my siblings, even my mother-in-law, I discovered this past weekend. What is it with all of us, trying to differentiate some of what we’re saying from all the worthless fluff we’re usually blabbing about? Bookmark on DeliciousDigg this postRecommend on Facebookshare via RedditShare with StumblersTweet about itSubscribe to the comments on this...

"Let me focus"

After I washed my son’s boo-boo and rubbed some tea tree oil on the wound, I offered a zebra bandaid, which was not acceptable to His Highness. He wanted a red one and insisted on getting it out himself. I tried to help him open it, but he brushed me away with a most serious request: “Let me focus.” There’s that audio mirror again! Bookmark on DeliciousDigg this postRecommend on Facebookshare via RedditShare with StumblersTweet about itSubscribe to the comments on this...

Baby wants to join a Yahoo group

“Yahoo group!” I could not believe my ears. But then he said it again; my tiny little three-year-old shouted exuberantly and unmistakably, “Yahoo group!” The follow-up question: “Is that for your meeting?” My son asks before he goes to bed if I have to go to a meeting. I either say yes or that I’m “working in the basement.” He knows my life outside the home (or outside of its focus on him) as having a lot to do with the computer. He’s seen me do a lot of printing flyers for the moms group I lead, printing info for my tutoring clients, printing pieces to read for my writing group. I’m not sure if he has put it together that my talk about my work and just my life in general is also connected to this light-box I’m sitting at right now. But I have probably spent a huge amount of time while he’s been in my vicinity posting or reading on Yahoo groups. I am on a ton of Yahoo groups. Some are just social — easier to follow the thread of where playgroup is if you can go to archives or just get the digest. A lot are health-related or about food coops or farm shares. Some are local and/or organizational. The newest ones are about freelancing and writing/editing. And one is about the band my husband is playing in with my playgroup friend and two playgroup husbands. I have a love/hate relationship with these groups. I go to “web only” and then feel left out when I forget to go read the postings. Sometimes I start to feel like the people on the lists need to get a life and stop all their inter-chatter. But then I find out about another group I just have to join. And when one blogging group went to Big Tent, I both rejoiced at the disappearance of irrelevant emails and also mourned the need to actually remember to go to a website in order to get any news. This is how I found myself with the lovely number of 11111 unread messages in my In Box the other day. So it could have been from any number of conversations or references I mad that my son picked up this phrase. He seems to like it. I guess it’s fun to say. “Yahoo group Yahoo group Yahoo group!” I wonder how long it will be before my husband and son and I have one to discuss meals and practice schedules....

Hearing yourself in your kid’s talk

After sharing some sushi with his friend today at Whole Foods, my son said, “If you could save one for my daddy, well, that would be great.” Other favorites me-isms include, “Well, I’m just looking for something” while standing in front of the fridge and “Where is the…” (about anything) followed without skipping a beat by “Oh, there it is” (right in front of him). So cute I might just cringe off a tooth. Bookmark on DeliciousDigg this postRecommend on Facebookshare via RedditShare with StumblersTweet about itSubscribe to the comments on this...

Little Mouth Speaks – a lot! A letter to my loquacious toddler

Today was the first day I’d had any childcare in two weeks. There was snow, then a fever, then my boy’s dad got sick and needed tending. Today’s four hours of babysitting went fast, but when they were over, I had a supremely lovely time with my son. It was a chilly rainy day, and I decided I was just not going to leave the house. E had had a mini outdoor excursion with the sitter and the other little girl who came over, so we just hung out. After spending a week nursing him like he was a newborn and hearing “can you hold me?” and “can I nurse” in that weak voice punctuated by a cough, it was great to have my buddy back. I have a journal I’m developing to help me record developments and special events month to month, but I don’t often sit down and just write to my kid. A friend gave me The Mommy Journal, and I almost picked it up tonight, then thought about writing his “birthday letter” a month early (I did one at one year and think I never did year two – yikes!) but somehow I feel right now like I can get so much more down through a keypad. So here’s part of the letter I’d like to write to my son today. Dear E, I write a lot about you, my dear boy, some for blogs, some for essays that will probably never make it into print, some for poems and essays that have. If something happened to me, you’d have a lot of insight into my mind. But every once in a while I realize that it would be wise to tell you to your face and to write directly to you simply how I feel about you in a way that is not skewed to the side of frustration or mommy-self-exploration. So this is the long version of my looking into your eyes and saying, “You are so much fun.” In fact, you are a rock star. Your dad and I cannot believe the things that come out of your mouth, except that I keep hearing myself or him or some cosmic combo of what we’d say if we turned into one person. This morning, your dad left late for work because he was still a little sick, and he was still here when W got here to watch you and S for the morning. You were telling W about the valentine that D...

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