It is unending fun to observe the boys’ growing speaking skills and comprehension of the world around them. Yesterday Cal asked to see the “peacock” on the shelf, while pointing to my teapot. I’ve of course never noticed that those two words sound similar, but they sure do. In a minute’s time though, we worked on the differences between Mommy’s green teapot and the pretty blue peacock we saw at the farm the day before.
When Clark says “strawberry” it sounds like “diarrhea.” Hopefully that pronunciation will evolve soon, as it is not pleasant to be cutting up strawberries while he chants “diarrhea!” in the background. Both of them pronounce computer as “beer.” The other day Clark was using “potty” and “buddy” interchangeably. Brian called him “buddy” and he said, “Potty. Sign potty,” and did the sign for potty. They called candles “little fires” for quite awhile. And Cal called Alex’s pacifier a “fire fire” for a few days. He still calls Baby Alex “Baby Akis” and asks every night if she will be here when he wakes up in the morning.
Once Clark thought the container of spackle I was using to patch the walls was yogurt. Fortunately he did not act on that. I have a small tin of lotion that they always call “salmon” because I feed them canned salmon sometimes. At the farm the other day there was a big puddle in a field. Cal pointed to it excitedly and said, “ocean!” In an awkward situation (namely an unfamiliar person talking to him) he will point and comment on the nearest lighting fixture with “light!” or on our vacuum cleaner and its color, “makah meaner blue” both in very serious tones as if these are somber, important truths of the universe.
I’m working on clarifying for them the meaning of the word handsome (“hassom”). Cal called his sweater a “hassom red sweater” yesterday and then promptly assigned the same word to his scuffed-up, muddy shoes. When I put on a hat they both say, “Mommy hassom.” We’ve worked on the fact that you call boys handsome and girls pretty but it hasn’t quite hit home with them. So far they call brightly-colored things pretty. Here they are being handsome in my headbands.
Yesterday when we were outside our building Clark kept insisting that the dead brown grass was hay. I told him it was grass that would soon turn green, but he seemed skeptical. I still have not figured out why he calls things “mouse.” There seems to be no consistent reason behind it. He was calling each street light a mouse the other day, but he also says “mouse” when he points at trees, holes anywhere (which makes sense), bark on the ground…maybe I will soon figure out what is similar about those things.
For now I am just enjoying all the creativity and wonder that they boys approach the world with every day. It kind of makes me want to make up my own words.