Tia says that Nem-nem just cried her own name. She thinks she said it because she felt sorry for herself, being alone on the floor and hungry and tired. Nem-nem broke into a crawl yesterday - she’s been scooting increasingly for a few weeks.
This morning I was at our main computer transferring stuff to set up my new writer’s validation toy, and I hear from behind me and to the left -
“Hiiiiii.”
- in a small but confident voice so mild and sweet it is disarming, and doubly so because as I turn to see the source of the sound, there is Nem-nem, sitting up on the bed with Tia’s assistance, smiling affectionately at me.
She will slay the young men when she is a young woman.
Mago did the same thing as an infant. He also did her greeting yell of sorts. I wish I remembered the sound now, but I’m glad I wrote down that he made it - at that entry he was a month and a half old. He was about 4 months old when I wrote down he’d said “Hiiii.” I’m still in denial of the little tiny baby not being around, and maybe I always will be, but how I enjoy his company now, and I’m sure that will continue. Nem-nem a.k.a. Nemmy a.k.a. Milkbarf a.k.a. McCuddles is about 5 months now. I also wrote down Mago saying “Hiiii” to mama and dada by their proper names at 1 year.
Mago woke up twice early in the morning to go to the bathroom and I put him back to bed both times, informing him it was still “sleepy time”. Shortly after Nem-nem’s greeting this morning, we heard Mago in his room through our monitor, revising one of these encounters:
“No, it’s night time.”
“No it isn’t, it’s morning time.”
“Oh, okay.”
Gotta have the happy ending.
Mago has this word he’s come up with, which he will use as an exclamation meaning nothing other than that “I am exclaiming this word.” He seems to have transformed it into a noun though, or we just never knew it was. .. seems like it might be used as a verb too, though I’m foggy on that.
This word is “Paamp!”
I was teaching him to pray at bed time one night, kneeling with him at the head of his bed:
Me: What do you want to say thank you for?
Mago: Thank you far PAamp.. .. and thank you for kaank.
Me: .. Thank you for silly words?
Mago: And thank you for baamp.
Now probably many weeks ago I took him for a morning walk, carrying him wrapped up in blankets (I don’t believe it was yet very cold - just starting to get cold). I told him some story I made up and don’t remember, and asked him if he wanted to tell me a story. He did, and at each turn of it I prompted him with “Then what?” -
Mago: Once there was a little Paamp. And there was a big lion. And the lion ate the little Paamp. And the Paamp died. And the lion hung him up on a tree. And the lion hung him up on a hanger.
I’d forgotten all about this for a week or so until at bed time one evening he spontaneously relayed exactly the same story, without variation, to Tia. This called for a line from this Love and Logic audiobook series that I’ve learned.
Me: I noticed you like to tell stories.
This audiobook said that kids will light up when you notice they like doing something, because it brings awareness to themselves that in fact they do like something, and gives them a place to consciously choose whether to pursue that. Mago did light up - his eyes grew wide and his face almost frantic with eagerness. He quickly retold and elaborated on the story, listing everything he could see in the closet in his room.
Mago: Once there was a little Paamp. And there was a big lion. And the lion ate the little Paamp. And the Paamp died. And the lion hung him up on a tree. And the lion hung him up on a hanger. And the lion hung him up on a clothes. And the lion hung him up on a shelf. And the lion hung him up on a box..
I don’t remember everywhere he went with it.
A few weeks ago he climbed up on the table while I was getting him dinner alone (Tia was probably getting Nem-nem to sleep). I asked him to get down; he ignored me. I headed into the room to take him off the table and set him on a chair for time out, and let him know it’s sad - don’t warn, just set the limit once and then take action, this audiobook says (I want to emphasize, if this isn’t obvious by now, that I find the advice of this audiobook very useful - I think it is a must read and can save so many headaches and needless pain for parents and kids - I’m only starting to learn it.) He knew when he saw me coming that I wasn’t going to let him push this limit (he’s not always so compliant - I’m still figuring out how to lovingly enforce limits), so he hastily got down. I let off - he’s going to comply - and I went back into the kitchen to keep fixing his meal. I think he asked me if he was in time out, and I think I replied no, but maybe I should put him in time out for not listening when I first asked him to get off the table. He came in to the room with a very conscious, deliberate scowl, looking up at me.
Mago: But you can’t put me in time out. Because I’m angry.
At this I just laughed - what else can I do? This is hilarious. I told him maybe he needs a time out anyway if he’s angry at me, but by this time he was laughing too, and very deliberately scowling at me even though he no longer felt any trace of the only trace of anger he had been mostly mocking up anyway (though I think some of it was genuine) - so I figured he didn’t need any time out at all.