Natalie Marcia Says:"Books are friends for while your on the potty."
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Monday, May 25, 2009
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.
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.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
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.
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.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
And if ya don't know...
This is how we rollIt has been a long time since I've truly updated this blog. If I were to attempt to document all the accomplishments of my super-baby-genius since then, I would fail miserably. So what follows is a random assortment of some things Natalie and I thought you should know...
Some of Natalie's most interesting phrases:
"Yankees Yuk, Grandpa Lee! and Go Red Sox, Grandpa Lee!" Just because it is obvious doesn't make it any less genius. Take note Grandpa Lee, lest you wind up on the wrong side of geniosity.
"Broccoli, broccoli, OOOOOOOOO Cookie Monster" Natalie announced this at the dinner table the other night while pawing through her broccoli. We're not quite sure what it meant but I believe she was trying some sort of wizardry on her Broccoli in hopes of turning it into a cookie. If she had succeeded, we could have sold her services to grumpy Broccoli eaters everywhere...alas, it failed.
"Mama Trash. Dada Trash": Either this was her first insult or she was trying to express that only Mama and Dada can touch the trash.
Some interesting developments:
Fear Factor: Natalie has developed a fear of certain stuffed animals. If we even discuss one of the offending beasts, she shakes and clings to the nearest adult. The problem is we never know which stuffed animal might illicit this response, so we'll innocently pull out a former favorite toy, only to watch her breakdown. Apparently these type of unexplained fears are normal for her age, so when she suddenly begins to stress about a certain stuffed friend we stick him in the office closet. I have yet to find a link between the stuffed animals she fears and those she doesn't, though I am beginning to expect those that frighten her are demonically possessed, which is why I haven't spent much time in my office lately.
ABC's: Natalie knows a good deal of her letters, and enjoys singing the ABC song. She cruises through A-B-C-D-E-F-G-H-I-J, inserts another B for K, and then belts out M,M,M,M...Q. Which is either an indication that she doesn't knows those letters, or enjoys eating Qs.
Sing-Along: Natalie loves to sing other songs as well. Her repertoire is wide and eclectic. For instance she can sing "Where is pinky?" and then immediately break into a verse of "Too Hot" (Don't ask how she learned this song). Sure she mumbles some words, skips others, and invents a bunch, but I dare you to find something cuter than a toddler learning to sing.
Potty Training: No she is not trained yet. Please don't ask me again.
That's all for now, I am going to go burn those demonically possessed stuffed animals.
Some of Natalie's most interesting phrases:
"Yankees Yuk, Grandpa Lee! and Go Red Sox, Grandpa Lee!" Just because it is obvious doesn't make it any less genius. Take note Grandpa Lee, lest you wind up on the wrong side of geniosity.
"Broccoli, broccoli, OOOOOOOOO Cookie Monster" Natalie announced this at the dinner table the other night while pawing through her broccoli. We're not quite sure what it meant but I believe she was trying some sort of wizardry on her Broccoli in hopes of turning it into a cookie. If she had succeeded, we could have sold her services to grumpy Broccoli eaters everywhere...alas, it failed.
"Mama Trash. Dada Trash": Either this was her first insult or she was trying to express that only Mama and Dada can touch the trash.
Some interesting developments:
Fear Factor: Natalie has developed a fear of certain stuffed animals. If we even discuss one of the offending beasts, she shakes and clings to the nearest adult. The problem is we never know which stuffed animal might illicit this response, so we'll innocently pull out a former favorite toy, only to watch her breakdown. Apparently these type of unexplained fears are normal for her age, so when she suddenly begins to stress about a certain stuffed friend we stick him in the office closet. I have yet to find a link between the stuffed animals she fears and those she doesn't, though I am beginning to expect those that frighten her are demonically possessed, which is why I haven't spent much time in my office lately.
ABC's: Natalie knows a good deal of her letters, and enjoys singing the ABC song. She cruises through A-B-C-D-E-F-G-H-I-J, inserts another B for K, and then belts out M,M,M,M...Q. Which is either an indication that she doesn't knows those letters, or enjoys eating Qs.
Sing-Along: Natalie loves to sing other songs as well. Her repertoire is wide and eclectic. For instance she can sing "Where is pinky?" and then immediately break into a verse of "Too Hot" (Don't ask how she learned this song). Sure she mumbles some words, skips others, and invents a bunch, but I dare you to find something cuter than a toddler learning to sing.
Potty Training: No she is not trained yet. Please don't ask me again.
That's all for now, I am going to go burn those demonically possessed stuffed animals.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Return of the Blog!
"Look, it's a bird, it's a plane...oh no...it's Daddy's stupid blog"Cue the dramatic announcer guy:
"This spring, just when you thought it was safe to surf the web, comes the return of the web's most poop-humor filled blog. Find out what happens when a father tries to potty train his little girl, discover just how demanding a two-year can be, and sing-along with the countless inane songs. This time they're will be no editing witch meens you may find a few mis stakes... but join as we embark on another epic or at least slightly entertaining journey."
"This spring, just when you thought it was safe to surf the web, comes the return of the web's most poop-humor filled blog. Find out what happens when a father tries to potty train his little girl, discover just how demanding a two-year can be, and sing-along with the countless inane songs. This time they're will be no editing witch meens you may find a few mis stakes... but join as we embark on another epic or at least slightly entertaining journey."
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Death of the Blog, Blog...
Alas, my blog is dyingPerhaps death isn't the right word. "Extended suspension", "Possible complete destruction", or "This blog is to continued entries as Sarah Palin is to continued political career" might be more fitting.
I'm currently working on a larger piece of fiction, leaving me little time to update the blog. I hope to bring the blog back to life, should I give up on this other writing project, finish it, or miraculously discover a 36 hour day.
Rest assured, Natalie is getting cuter and I am getting older and don't lose hope...if Sarah Palin can return in 2012...so can I...
Blog out.
I'm currently working on a larger piece of fiction, leaving me little time to update the blog. I hope to bring the blog back to life, should I give up on this other writing project, finish it, or miraculously discover a 36 hour day.
Rest assured, Natalie is getting cuter and I am getting older and don't lose hope...if Sarah Palin can return in 2012...so can I...
Blog out.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Burning the 8:30 Oil...
"You Sir, are old!"One of my best friends turns thirty this month, yet I feel like we're still in high school together (and Sara would say when my friend and I are together we act like it) but there is a larger part of me (and I am not talking about my expanding waistline) that feels really,
really
old.
For example, the Red Sox have once again made the playoffs but there was no way in hell I was staying up to watch the entire first game against the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim, who not only will lose the series to my beloved Red Sox, but also have a terribly long and stupid name. The game started at 10pm, which ten years ago would have been an optimal time to have my first Mountain Dew of the evening but which is currently an optimal time to have my first Tylenol PM.
How did this happen? I blame Natalie.
Before Natalie or B.N., which sounds disturbingly like B.M. so I won't use it again, I was still a night owl. I would stay up till midnight doing important things like writing poems, surfing the Internet, and watching South Park re-runs. Now if I'm up at midnight it is to put Natalie back to sleep before crumpling back into bed myself.
There are other signs that my age is catching up with me:
1. I ache for no apparent reason especially when it is cold.
2. I look forward to going to the grocery store.
3. I drink Green Tea.
4. I haven't played a video game in over six months.
5. I turned on the TV weeks ago and had no idea who was pitching for the Red Sox.
6. I think about my cholesterol more than once every year.
7. I have a retirement plan.
8. Cashiers card me at the grocery store but always have a smile that says, "I know you are over 21 but I have to do this anyway you old-fart."
It's disheartening. Luckily every time I start feeling especially old, I get to see the world through Natalie's adorable little eyes, as she discovers some new truth about the world like gravity, running is harder to do than walking, or that the Red Sox are awesome.
I'm going to get us both a couple Mountain Dews and hunker down in front of the TV for game two tonight, unless of course I pass out before it starts...
really
old.
For example, the Red Sox have once again made the playoffs but there was no way in hell I was staying up to watch the entire first game against the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim, who not only will lose the series to my beloved Red Sox, but also have a terribly long and stupid name. The game started at 10pm, which ten years ago would have been an optimal time to have my first Mountain Dew of the evening but which is currently an optimal time to have my first Tylenol PM.
How did this happen? I blame Natalie.
Before Natalie or B.N., which sounds disturbingly like B.M. so I won't use it again, I was still a night owl. I would stay up till midnight doing important things like writing poems, surfing the Internet, and watching South Park re-runs. Now if I'm up at midnight it is to put Natalie back to sleep before crumpling back into bed myself.
There are other signs that my age is catching up with me:
1. I ache for no apparent reason especially when it is cold.
2. I look forward to going to the grocery store.
3. I drink Green Tea.
4. I haven't played a video game in over six months.
5. I turned on the TV weeks ago and had no idea who was pitching for the Red Sox.
6. I think about my cholesterol more than once every year.
7. I have a retirement plan.
8. Cashiers card me at the grocery store but always have a smile that says, "I know you are over 21 but I have to do this anyway you old-fart."
It's disheartening. Luckily every time I start feeling especially old, I get to see the world through Natalie's adorable little eyes, as she discovers some new truth about the world like gravity, running is harder to do than walking, or that the Red Sox are awesome.
I'm going to get us both a couple Mountain Dews and hunker down in front of the TV for game two tonight, unless of course I pass out before it starts...
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