Kids Say the Darndest Things

Emmy is a talker, with a vocabulary that seems to be growing by leaps and bounds every day. For the most part, she is totally easy to understand. But recently I’ve been noticing and appreciating “Emmyisms” – words that are uniquely (and repeatedly) mispronounced in a way that is hugely endearing.

I figure that over the next few years, these words will fade away as Em becomes aware of their correctly spoken origins, so I should probably write them down. That way, when Em is cramming new words into her head in preparation for the SATs, many moons from now, we’ll be able to take a break from studying and look back on this list for a good laugh.

When I was a kid, I won all of my adult relatives over with my mispronunciation of “ketchup” (which was, and still is, my favorite food in the whole wide world). I called it “keppitch” which, I agree now, is a MUCH cuter word than ketchup (hey Heinz CEO, I am willing to license the word “keppitch” to you, for mere millions). Even when I learned to call my favorite food by its true name, my grandparents would continue to call it “keppitch” in my presence, as a kind of eternal running joke.

And I still remember how my younger sister (who will soon be turning 30) called nightmares “NIGHT MIRRORS,” when she was a toddler. “NIGHT MIRRORS” is just a wonderful way of describing dreams, isn’t it?

Will I continue to replace actual words with their Emmyisms for years to come? I have to say, I am half-tempted to continue to call penguins “pengos,” as my daughter does, because it just sounds so much sweeter.

A little list of Emmyisms:

PENGO = penguin

GUBRELLA = umbrella

CHICKY SAMMICH = turkey sandwich

LELLO = yellow

JAMILLA = Vanilla. To her credit, for a while I was working and carpooling with a woman named Jamella, and we used to talk about our friend Jamella a lot. But it still sounds funny when she says she wants Jamilla ice cream.

FRIGERERR = refrigerator

LASSHOLE = lasso (yes, this one makes me particularly happy. Em was drawing one day, and I said, ‘Em, what’s that you are drawing?’ and she said ‘I drawing a LASSHOLE.’ And after projectile spitting my juice clear across the room, I asked her again what she had drawn. ‘A LASSHOLE! To catch!’ she said, making round movements with her hands. Aaaaah. Ha ha. Got it. A lasso.)

Oh yes, and there is the way she sings “Baa, Baa Black Sheep,” that always has me in a fit of giggles. It goes a little something like this:

Baa baa black sheep

Have you any wool?

Yes sir, yes sir, three bags full,

One for my massser, one for my LAME,

And one for the little boy who lives down the LAME.

I’m sure there are SO MANY more words than just these, but I’m sleep deprived and my capacity to remember is totally shot. I think I will keep a running list somewhere on my blog, so I can add to it as I encounter more Emmyisms.

How about you, or your kids? Did you famously mispronounce certain words as a kid, or does your child re-name objects with much more adorable names? If so, please share!

Spring Fling

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

This winter was soooo very long, or at least seemed that way to me. Maybe it seemed long because I had Oren (or Baby Orange, as we like to call him) back in December, and have pretty much been a total recluse for the past four months. I’m not big on driving a tiny little infant around on icy roads, for obvious reasons. And the media made it seem like this winter’s flu season was the worst flu season EVER, and that if you went to the grocery store you were definitely going to get the flu and die from it, so that kind of killed my enthusiasm for socializing.

Or maybe the winter seemed long because I was anxiously awaiting Season 3 of Game of Thrones, which only began this past week.

Regardless, there were many mornings in March where I woke up thinking spring was just around the corner – the sun was shining, the birds were chirping, the grass seemed to be yawning and stretching, waking up from a long sleep (the grass on everybody else’s yard, that is. The grass on our lawn still looked like it was deeply depressed. Our grass is the Eeyore of all the neighborhood grasses).

But just as I would get my hopes up, and start thinking about maybe storing my bulky sweaters and puffy winter jackets, the local weatherman would put the kibosh on my dreams, telling me that I needed to prepare for the arrival of yet another 6 inches of snow the very next day. And then the snow would come, and Albany looked like yet another winter wonderland (the snowglobe look is so romantic and beautiful in DECEMBER, but I tell you, it wears thin after five months), and I would cry silently into my mismatched scarf and mittens.

But now, with the ten day forecast showing no signs of surprise storms, I think it might finally be safe to start thinking “spring”.

Yesterday, I took Em and O to the playground after picking Emmy up from daycare. Despite the fact that the playground was PACKED with people, and despite the fact that their WAS a strong wind that made me sort of worry about the kids being too lightly dressed, we had lots of fun. Em was all sunshine and happiness on the swing, watching out for planes flying overhead, and throwing her head back in laughter as I tried snatching her shoes off her feet each time she swung forward. We also kicked and threw Em’s bouncy ball around the field for quite a bit of time, visited with the ducks and fishies, and played in the sandbox (I know, I know. The sandbox has cat and skunk pee in it, and is just a total germy nightmare. But I DO wash Em’s hands off after she plays in it, and I try to encourage her not to EAT the sand).

It was wonderful, getting to breathe in lots of fresh air, feeling the sunshine on our faces, seeing all the other folks out walking their dogs and biking and chasing other kiddos around. I felt like a whole new person, saw my daughter totally ecstatic and “in her element,” and gave my son his first real dose of life outside our house. I vowed to myself that I would do my best to take the kids to a playground or engage in another outdoor activity on all the future good-weather days. Because , after all, we DO live in Upstate New York, which means next year’s winter is only about 3 months away.  

The Tricky, Tenacious Twos

Terrible is a very strong word. Therefore, I hesitate to use the word “terrible twos” to describe my daughter, even on her worst days.

Tricky, though? Oh, yes.

And tenacious? Yes, and yes.

Em is two and a half now. Yippee (exclaimed with a very sarcastic undertone).

For those of you who have not yet experienced parenting a two-and-a-half year old, and for those of you who do not remember what your kids were like when they were two and a half, and for those of you who have miracle toddlers who behave beautifully all the time, let me share the joy of this stage.

First of all, Em has about 18 teeth simultaneously pushing their way into her mouth. Not pleasant. To help take the edge off her pain, Em chews on her fingers. She also likes chewing on people (which is even less pleasant than watching her sticking her whole fist in her mouth). C and I have yet to introduce Emmy to the whole Twilight saga, so I don’t know why she thinks acting like a vampire is cool.

I looked up “muzzle for kids” on Amazon.com. Unfortunately, they only offer the Hannibal Lecter style of human muzzle, not a Dora the Explorer or princess-themed muzzle that Em would actually ENJOY wearing. Do you think Disney and Nick Jr. would license their characters for use on child muzzles?

I jest, of course. I would never put my child in a muzzle. It’s hard enough getting her to agree to put on a shirt.

Another issue we are currently running into is Em’s inconsistent sleep schedule. On daycare days, Em takes two hour naps from 1 p.m. to 3 p.m. This would be a GOOD THING, of course, if it meant she was also able to go to sleep at a decent hour in the evenings following daycare days. Instead, she becomes super wired from her afternoon siesta, and stays bright-eyed and bushy tailed until about 10 p.m. I am pretty sure 10 p.m. is not a recommended bedtime for tiny tots. I have tried to convince her teachers to cut her nap short, but apparently my request is problematic, for whatever frustrating reason.

On the days that Em is NOT in daycare, she doesn’t nap at all. This is a GOOD thing, in that she is in bed and asleep without any issue by 6:30 p.m. But it is also a NOT-SO GOOD thing, in that the last few hours of her non-nap days are spent with her in a state of near-catatonia. She stares into space, mumbles incoherently, and walks like a drunk. Not so cute on a two and a half year old.

There is no middle ground. There is no day when she takes a quick but much needed EARLY nap. She is either Zombie toddler or Night Owl toddler. Yayyy.

Other issues?

She seems to be making up for her rather small stature by trying to control everything around her. In other words, Emmy is turning into Napoleon. She often barks orders at us like we are her minions (of course, we try our best to remind her to ASK us to do things with her or for her, rather than TELLING us to do things). One of the most often heard phrases around our house is “Talk like a ROBOT!” or “Talk like a MONSTER!” or “Talk like MAP!” (which means we should talk like the map in Dora the Explorer). Yesterday, while we were doing our grocery shopping, Em wanted me to talk like Thomas the Train the ENTIRE time we were at the store. Apparently, she doesn’t like it when we talk like PARENTS. Because parents are super boring, compared to monsters and robots and… maps? I LIVE for the day when she outgrows this phase.

Emmy also pretends she is stuck, like, ALL the time. She’ll walk into any given room, get down on the floor, throw one leg up in the air, and scream “I’m STUCK! I’m STUCK! I need help!” Or she’ll crawl under a table and get herself stuck, specifically so she can TELL us she’s stuck.

I actually remember going through this phase myself as a kid. I remember wedging my body between a sofa and a wall, and screaming for my mother to come and help me. My mom just came over to me and told me that I had gotten myself stuck, so I could get myself UN-stuck. After panicking for a few minutes, realizing that I had to rely on my own ingenuity to figure out an escape route, I finally managed to wiggle myself free. I think it was a useful lesson. Therefore, unless Emmy truly seems STUCK, I tell her she needs to figure out how to un-stick herself.

Emmy is also scared of going into rooms by herself.

She also needs her sandwich to be made a very SPECIFIC way.

She also throws fits when we don’t let her have bandaids (she doesn’t NEED bandaids, mind you. She just wants to put bandaids all over her body on imaginary boo boos).

I’m no dummy. I know that all of this behavior is just Emmy being a two and a half year old who is growing increasingly aware of this big world, and is therefore anxious and acting out. Emmy needs love and attention, as well as guidance and rules, to help her get through this phase. It’s our responsibility and our JOB, as parents, to give her those things. Right now it is just a very EXHAUSTING job that requires a heck of a lot of patience.

But I’d like to end on a positive note (because that is just who I am). For as many headaches as Em provides in any given 24 hour period, she also provides many laughs, many hugs, and many “awwwww” moments. She floors me with her intelligence, her humor, and her heart. She’s as terrific as she is tricky, and she’s as tremendous as she is tenacious.