She Says

I'm a princess...no, seriously, I am...

I promise a first day of school blog in the coming days but until then a few from the, "Did she really just say that? department"

1. While outside swinging this evening, I discussed the day with Natalie:

Me: So did you have circle time at school today Natalie?

Natalie: Yes we did!

Me: What did you talk about at circle time?

Natalie: The weather.

Me: Oh, that's nice, anything else?

Natalie: (pause to think deeply about the question).. Other serious things...

I'm not sure if I should inform other parents that their children are sitting around at circle-time talking about weather, what little Joey had for dinner last night, and "other serious things".

2. Before dinner Natalie told Sara that her tushy was hurting. This generally means that she has some dry skin on her cheeks, so Sara dutifully applied a little Aquaphor, after which Natalie remarked:

"Mama, I like how you did that."

Sara was gratified to know that she is able to apply lotion to a dry tushy in a satisfactory manner.

3. At dinner this evening we were enjoying a lovely meal (I am the chef and I say it was lovely) when Natalie began to explain what her doll, which she now is calling "Baby Roo" after watching Piglet's Big Movie on Friday had for HER dinner, which had apparently occurred earlier that evening. Natalie proceeded to list everything we had eaten the previous three nights (from Sushi to re-fried beans) at which point Sara exclaimed "Wow, Baby Roo, is a big eater!" and Natalie responded:

"Yeah, and last but not least she had some salt and pepper to go on her lovely meal."

Sara and I promptly burst out laughing and Natalie joined in, having no idea why we were giggling.

Natalie always has a way of spicing up our evenings.

She Says

Getting ready to clear the room...

Recent conversation with Natalie:

Loud thbbbbbttttt noise

Natalie: Oh, excuse me!
Me: You are excused (resisting desire to smile)
Natalie: Dada, I tooted!
Me: Um, yes, you did. (barely holding in a chuckle)
Natalie: Do you know why I tooted?
Me: No, Natalie, why? (rapt with anticipation)
Natalie: Because something was tickling my tushy!
Me: I see... (excusing myself while I go to the next room and burst out laughing)

A Recipe for Soup

mmm, mmmm,..yehck!

Last night, while in the bath, Natalie asked Sara to tell a story. This is a favorite recent activity; having mommy or daddy make up a story, usually centered on our heroine who calls herself Emily, her friend Little Bear, and Lucy, her doll. Anyone who has read the Little Bear books will immediately recognize the cast...

Anyway, the main thrust of this particular vignette was that our heroes needed to make a soup. The reasons why they needed to make said soup were vague but a good storyteller lets the reader fill in unimportant plot details like motive...

So for those of you looking for a lovely Autumnal recipe I suggest "Emily's, Little Bear's and Lucy's Acorn Soup"

Add to large pot (which you shall never use again):

The ingredients are Natalie's, the notes are mine...

- 3 Spoonfuls of Mayonnaise (one may substitute Vegannaise if one is a hippie like Mama)
- 2 Cookies (preferably Chocolate Chip or Sugar but any cookie will do in a pinch)
- 3 cups Flour
- "A lot of Acorns" (Natalie explained "a lot" means 10)
- Chocolate, 1 Bar

Then Cook "A lot" and if your house isn't on fire or the neighbors haven't shown up to ask about the smell, enjoy...

She Says

Natalie poses on her "big-girl" bed.

Natalie has a little Sesame Street book called "Be Polite" and, as you may have gleamed from the previous blog post, Natalie enjoys reading books on the potty. So today while she climbed onto her potty-seat she asked very brightly, in her two-year-old broken syntax way, "Dada, Can I Be Polite, pleeeeaaase?!"

I smiled and got the book.

She Says

Natalie Marcia Says:

"Books are friends for while your on the potty."

Trouble Brewing

"I just love getting Dada in trouble!"

As has been previously discussed at length, my daughter is a super-baby genius, or perhaps now she would be better described as a super-toddler-genius, which in super-genius terms is a whole new level of geniuosity. She inhales words for breakfast, digests meaning for lunch, and then by dinner is ready to have a lengthy discussion about what she learned that day. This discussion usually involves her singing loudly at the table while we eat.

Her hunger for knowledge is unquenchable, and so, rather than let her exert extra energy in negative ways, like by chasing the cat, or making a mess, or plotting to overthrow the world, I divert her curiosity into learning new words, phrases, and long Wordsworth poems.

To be sure it is an exhausting and heroic task, one that often involves repeating new words 2,320 times before Natalie is satisfied that she can pronounce it properly, and which turns my brain into a lumpy mush by the time Sara returns home from work.

I generally enjoy this noble and necessary job of protecting humanity from a potentially lethal super-toddler genius but there are times when my efforts to teach Natalie about her surroundings backfire.

Witness a week or so ago.

Natalie and I were busy shopping for a small gathering at our house over Memorial day weekend. We busied ourselves with procuring all the necessary list items, Natalie gleefully chirping out directions for what I should buy from the shopping cart. Luckily for our guests I managed to sneak in something other than goldfish crackers, cheese, and cheerios.

Natalie remarked upon all the various vegetables and fruits we bought and yelled "Hiii!" to anyone who passed. There were innumerable, "Hiii, Ladies" and "Hiii, Mans" and most of the time she correctly guessed the person's gender...

We began to checkout, and I placed our veritable cornucopia of food on the belt and waited for, as Natalie would call her, the "Checkout lady." However, at this precise moment Natalie was not at all concerned with the "Checkout lady", no something much more interesting beckoned her eye from the conveyor belt.

Of all the many things that sat on the rubbery surface, of all the things she could have remarked upon, she began, quite near the top of her lungs,

"BEEEEEER, That's BEEEEEER" pointing to a case of brew.

"Yes, Natalie." I said rather sheepishly. But she continued...

"BEEEEEER, BEEEEER, that's Dada's BEEEER."

At this point I blushed and tried to point out a much more interesting and less embarrassing box of Cheerios. She wanted nothing to do with it.

"BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEER! Dada drinks BEEEEEEER." The checkout lady was laughing, the woman behind me chuckled, "I guess she knows what that is!", but I knew somewhere a child-services worker was lurking, or at least taking notes.

I hustled Natalie to the car, sped home, unpacked the groceries and while Natalie played in her pretend kitchen, cracked open a cold one.

"BEEEEEER" I said. "That's BEEEEEER."

Hey, I deserved it.




Editors Note: If any child-services workers are reading this blog, please know I didn't actually drink a beer until my wife got home...then I had five.

Impersonationable

Natalie does her best "Dada" impression.

When I was young I would set up a tape recorder and practice mimicking various voices and characters...what you didn't? Before you judge me, I lived in NH, where there was nothing to do for miles but read books (totally uninterested in reading for pleasure at the time) or push cows (interested but rather terrified).

I thought impressions might be my path to fame and fortune. I could be the next Dana Carvey or Rich Little or at least get people to laugh. I gave it up when I realized high-school girls were not particularly impressed by a guy who could do a great pirate impression.

Who knew?

Recently, however, my vocal manipulations have been in high demand by a cuter and wiser little girl. When Natalie was little (littler I suppose) I often read her books and used different voices for the various characters. She enjoyed it, smiling when I took on the voice of a big grumpy troll or when I decided a particular character should speak with a British accent. Now that she's a more sophisticated communicator, she not only enjoys my little voice tricks but demands them.

Recent conversations have gone like this:

"Dada Cookie Monster."

I ignore her and continue to wash dishes (what else would I be doing)

"Dada Cookie Monster? DADA COOKIE MONSTER!!!"

"Oh, me like cookie" (in my best cookie monster voice)

"Dada Grover. DADA GROVER!"

"Hello Natalie" (As Grover)

"Dada, Grandpa Al."

And here's where my talent runs out. I apologize to my plaintive princess that I can't do a "Grandpa Al" impression. But this is my little daughter, so I've been working on my Grandpa Al, Momma, and Barack Obama impressions (yes Natalie recognizes our president on TV and shouts OBAMA! every time she sees him, recently declaring "Silly Obama", with which her fiscally conservative mother agreed.)

All these voices have me a little turned around so don't be surprised if the next time you see me I'm in the middle of a identity crisis and greet you in a cookie monster voice or shake your hand and say nothing but "ARGHHH! Matey!"


Random notes:

1. Recently Natalie declared that "Sometimes people eat turtles" and then "Sometime turtles eat people." Since she is never wrong, be careful with all future turtle relations.

2. Natalie told me a few days ago "Grandpa Lee Yuk", "Gram Yuk". At first I was worried she was claiming that her grandfather and great-grandmother were both yucky but I soon realized she was explaining that they were both from New York...

3. Natalie loves to sing the wheels on the bus, or rather she loves for me to sing it while she declares what is on the bus. She refuses to stick to the general script of wipers, wheels, and bus implements and focuses mainly on animals and people she knows. I am forced to decide what the Grandpa Lee, Aunt Bryn, and Cookie Monster on the bus say. So if you want a say in what YOU say, let me know.