Elise-isms

At the Botanical Garden,
outshining the flowers.

It must be remarkably fun to be a 2-year-old. The line between real and imaginary is constantly blurred, so that not only are you a purple baby kitten, but wishes really do come true, because, poof, as soon as you wish on a dandelion seed and let it float away, an imaginary green stuffed bear appears in your hands, out of thin air! Wow! If only we could all be 2!

And the things Elise says or talks about usually reflect exactly what's going on in her mind, whether that's, "I changed our old house into a purple hotel!" or "When I close my eyes, I see purple!" It's a combination of a massive vocabulary with a minimal filter, and it's hilarious (and usually purple).

Elise's new big-girl bed! She wanted
to be sucking her thumb in the picture
since that's how she sleeps.

The ice-cream flavors she comes up with, for example, would put even Willy Wonka to shame. "Chocolate vanilla marshmallow M&M chocolate ice cream with purple sprinkles and chocolate chips and peanut butter to keep the chocolate chips on." Yes, please, says the pregnant mommy.

And then there are the random revelations along the lines of: "I do not like sticky milk. I do not like sticky Cheerios. Write that down, Mommy," and, "I have a great idea! Let's have a boy party!" (presumably for Daddy), and, "When I clean house, my pups lick the house clean!"

We have intriguing questions: "Why do people color?" or,
Elise: "What if an elephant picks me up by my shirt?"
Me: "What would you do?"
Elise: "Just hang there."

Kalina's new big-girl bed!

Elise loves to be a baby kitten--a purple one, of course. As she's naturally happy and curious, this suits her. Plus, it can be remarkably convenient at times. For one, it gets her extra cuddling--who can refuse to pick up a baby kitten nuzzling their knee? Even Kalina can't. Plus, if there's a question she doesn't want to answer, she can respond with a simple, "Meow." And then there are the side perks: "I have a rainbow tail! I painted it rainbow!" Wouldn't we all like a rainbow tail? When she's in kitten mode, she refers to herself in third person: "It wants its pink bear," which sounds a little strange coming from a 2-year-old, but can work in my favor, too. She's more likely to cooperate if I address my request to a baby kitten ("Does the baby kitten want to wear its purple shirt?"), and especially if her big sister dangles imaginary catnip in front of her as motivation.

And if you've been in Elise's vicinity lately, you've undoubtedly heard the big news: "We're having a girl baby, and we went to a seal show!" They are both true, and entirely unrelated. But she tells everyone.

Renee came to visit!

But my favorite has to be the random insights Elise has had on first waking up in the morning. Since she's started to sleep in, sometimes I wake her up--and the very first words out of her mouth have me smiling all day ("I want to eat at a restaurant, and I will be a helper and help carry the food," and, "My feet need a drink!" and of course, "I dreamed about making purple marshmallows. I know how to make them. You need purple food coloring. You can get it at a purple grocery store. I have a purple grocery store! They have purple carts.") What in the world was she dreaming of? Sometimes I greet her in the middle of morning playtime with her stuffed animals: "We were just making a lemon meringue pie and a juice pie!"

We made porcupines! And more
porcupines! And food for the
porcupines! And then we had to
squish them, but they'll be back
again someday (like Frosty) 

I could go on--and often, so could Elise. Let's hope she does, because the world really could use more purple, couldn't it?

A word with Elise

Elise caught a fish!

What's going on in Elise's mind? The past few months have revealed such treasures as: "Purple purple purple," and "Look hop-hop" ("Look at the bunny!") and much more. I love knowing what's passing through my kids' minds--and usually they're eager to share, sometimes too willing, in the case of dark thoughts against their sister, for instance.

And I'm happy to say that, only a few months after the childhood development expert thought Elise should be stringing two words together, she has finally begun doing just that--and more! In fact, I imagine the little tyke would be well on her way to becoming a chatterbox if she didn't have an older sister who dominates Mommy's mind and mouth by demanding answers for, "What do helicopters do that's different from airplanes?" and "What do kittens need?" (Yes, we still occasionally brainstorm kittens' needs, and attempt to meet every single one.).

The cousins visited! And
went to the zoo with us!

But what does a nearly 2-year-old have to talk about? Purple, needing a drink, wanting to go outside, not wanting to wear shoes outside, putting Bear down for a nap, missing Daddy at work, and, of course, MOMMY (I'm flattered!).

Not only that, but the toddler demands to be taken seriously. Gone are the days when I can chalk "I want that purple lollipop" (or something similar) up to baby babble. Now, I must answer each request, even if it just about kills both of us ("No, you may not have the purple lollipop right now, let's go do a puzzle." "Waaaahhhh!"--Elise still sometimes resorts to "baby talk!").

And then there are the times when she demands to not be taken seriously. For instance, Elise's first joke, which gets repeated mercilessly and has even been taken up by her big sister at times:
Elise (pointing at Mommy and grinning): Daddy!
And we all laugh uproariously, Mommy and Daddy because we think Elise is cute and are glad she's not screaming, Kalina because she's young enough to actually think the joke is funny, and Elise because she's making all of us laugh, plus she doesn't yet possess any stigma  against laughing at her own jokes.

Purple, purple everywhere.

Elise's enunciation, as one would expect, still leaves a bit to be desired. It'd be particularly helpful if she could distinguish between "purple" and "potty" a little better. However, I give her extra credit every time she queries, mournfully, "Where did the Bear go?" (Which sounds like, "Wheah di da Bah go?") This is the most advanced sentence she uses, but she can apply it to all kinds of situations (cup, Kalina, cat, Mommy, etc.). Elise is also happy to add new words and phrases to her collection, and seems to be gaining rapidly. For instance, she can now use two adjectives in a row to describe a noun.

Perhaps best of all, Elise's growing ability to communicate has been embraced by her big sister, who, when she's in a good mood, will happily do her best to accommodate all requests, even the unreasonable ones (unless, of course, Elise is asking for the toy Kalina is currently playing with), and even advocate on her behalf.
Kalina: Mommy, Elise wants more animal crackers.
Me: She finished hers. Snacktime's over, let's go play.
Kalina: Elise, are you still hungry?
Elise: Eh! (Yes)
Kalina: Oh. What would you like to eat?
Elise: An cra. (Animal crackers)
Kalina: Mommy, Elise says she's still hungry. She'd like more animal crackers.
Me: She had lots of animal crackers, plus lots of other food. She's fine. Let's go play!
Kalina: Elise, do you really, really want more animal crackers?
Elise: Ri, ri an cra (Really really animal crackers)
Kalina: But Mommy, she really, really wants them!
Me: She'll be fine. Doesn't Lamby need a hug or something?
Elise: Waaaahhhh!

It'd be cute if it weren't counter-productive (note that Elise was perfectly content before Kalina put the idea in her mind). They do have real conversations, however, usually led by Kalina and centered on animals.

But don't let Elise's new talents fool you--she's certainly not above tantruming as an attempt to get her way. That's right--this relatively new (for us) and intense form of communication has recently come into play. I will say that I've seen far more impressive displays of emotion from other kids, but it's really fine with me if Elise doesn't excel in the screaming-fit department. And she has plenty of time (and opportunities) to practice.

When there's nothing else to say, Elise sings, which is another of my very favorite milestones. Our favorite: "Hah hah hah haah haaah haaaah." This is her version of "Happy Birthday," and she can get through the whole song, in tune, this way. Often, she'll throw in a "Mommy" or "Daddy" or "Kalina" ("Hah hah Mommmy hah hah haaaah,"), depending on the particular occasion, or how she's feeling at the time.

Now, the only challenge is to let Elise get a word in edgewise. Somehow, I think she'll find a way.

Storytime



This seriers of pictures will focus on the
fun we've been having settling in. This
first one was taken at Matt's department
picnic, held at the spectacular Purina
Farms. We loved it!



There's nothing more natural than parental pride. We can't help but grin and find ways to slip it into conversations with other parents (or even with our cat) when our child walks and talks, counts to 10 or jumps in a swimming pool.

But I have to say, despite having an early walker and an early talker, respectively, there's not much I've been prouder of in either of my girls' histories so far than their old and new loves of stories. One's enjoyment of reading has morphed into a highly entertaining enjoyment of storytelling, and the other's has become the ability to differentiate between a bunny in one book and a bear in the next--read upside down, no less.

Elise, who only rarely stops squirming long enough to even hear a story, loves thumbing through her board books, exclaiming about the soft-looking animals within and nuzzling them on occasion.

Elise has been waiting her whole life to pet
a bunny. So honored to be with her the
first time.

The storyline Elise likes best is in her bunny book which asks, in the end, "Do you ever wish you could hold a bunny?" (page turn) "Of course you can!" She always cracks up and smiles. I think she wants to hold a bunny, and probably bury her face in it.

Among her favorites is also a certain book with a cow picture in it. The storyline in this one invites the reader to "moo," just like a cow. Elise enjoyed this so much that she sponaneously leads Kalina and I in a chorus of moos every so often.

The baby also shows a fascination for library books that's less than wholesome. After all, what 11 1/2-month-old can resist the crinkly dust jackets and fresh, unfolded pages? Not mine. Let's hope she soon learns to devour books a little more figureatively and a little less literally soon.

Kalina pet the bunny, too. The white
fuzzball is a very soft chicken walking
around.

And since the baby is only 11 1/2 months old, the rest of this post will be about Kalina and some of the cute things she says (don't worry, a certain baby with a birthday coming up will be the star of the show soon enough).

We've all known for some time that Kalina has come up with her share of elaborate schemes for her animals. But did you know that she now labels each of them "stories?" For instance:

Kalina: The next story will be about White kitten's new baby!

Mommy: Sounds like a great story! I'd love to hear it!

Kalina: White kitten has a new baby!

Mommy: That's great! What's the baby's name?

Kalina: The story is just starting.

Mommy: Oh. Well, where did White kitten get the new baby?

Kalina: The story is just starting, Mommy.



Mooo!



I guess we hadn't gotten to the good part yet. Or maybe she's still working on character development.

And then there's Kalina's unquenchable, irrisistable, unstoppable need to anthropomorphize anything and everything. We have a mommy, a daddy and a baby rubber spatula. When Kalina puts away the silverware from the dishwasher, the spoon gives the forks baths and puts them down for bed. Trash jumps into the garbage can for a party. Marbles become inseparable friends. Her pinky finger (Pinky) has a baby named Fan, whose birthday we often celebrate. 

Mooo!

And, last night, as Kalina watched me dredge chicken tenders in flour, then egg, then seasoned bread crumbs, she had her own take on the system. "The egg is the bath!" the girl exclaimed. "And this is where they get dried off," she noted, pointing to the bread crumbs. "And the flour is where they take off their clothes!" The cutting board, where I carefully laid each dredged chicken tender, became the bed. The first four tenders represented our little family ("And Mommy will eat the mommy one, Daddy will eat the daddy one, Elise will eat the Elise one, and Kalina will eat the Kalina one!"). The rest were our guests. "And then we'll eat the guests!" So I guess you could say we had a lot of guests for dinner last night.

It's a good thing she has fun with all these personalities around her, because it seems that this is a mode the girl can't turn off.

At the World Bird Sanctuary within 15
minuts of our house. I didn't expect
Kalina to want to be an eagle, but
after some deliberation, she decided
that she did.

We enjoy watching Kalina play like this, but I admit we're often at a loss for words when she asks us to "talk to the triangle" or rubber band or watermelon, or whatever. Fortunately, she usually feeds us our lines

And finally, the story of Kalina's first movie, Winnie the Pooh:

Taking Kalina to see a movie in the theater was never on my radar until I heard that Winnie the Pooh, in the original style, would be there too. And that it was short, and sweet. I debated the idea in my head for a while, until I'd convinced myself that it really would be the perfect activity for a Mommy and Kalina Date , and that Kalina would be drawn in by the talking animals, and that we could always leave if we needed to. I also noted that it's good for Kalina to face new experiences, but really I just thought it'd be fun to go to a movie with my oldest. Kalina readily agreed, excited to see a "big TV show about a bear, donkey, piglet" and all the rest.

At the elk and bison preserve next to the
bird sanctuary. Note the elk on the hills
Note the giant elk's head in the ravine.
Note that Elise and I headed for the car
when she started to get loud.

Meanwhile, Kalina had been highly involved in drawing up her own random stories about bears seeking honey, friends falling into holes, animals carrying balloons and more.

On the way, I told Kalina what to expect at the theater. I detailed how we'd buy a ticket, find a comfy seat, wait for the movie to start, and sit quietly to watch it (but if she needed anything, she could definitely let me know, as I'd be right beside her). I told her it might be a bit loud. I didn't want to tell her too much, lest she become intimidated and decide we should turn around and just go back home (which she almost did). I didn't want to tell her too little, lest she be caught too much by surprise and want to go back home. It's a fine line we walk, sometimes.

I cajoled the somewhat nervous 3-year-old out of the car before she could protest, and without even digging into the yogurt raisins I'd tucked into my purse so we could snack movie-style. We bought tickets, happily learning that it would only cost us a grand total of $3 to enjoy the show.

It was easy to find seats, but a little more difficult for Kalina's 32-ish pounds to sit in one. It kept folding upwards on her. Having refused a booster seat and my lap, she eventually settled back in a fairly comfortable position and managed to keep the front part from popping up.

Until the movie began, anyway. After two short commercials and one short preview, during which I tensed up at every possibility of seeing something even a bit scary (there was nothing too worrisome), the girl scooted up to the front of her seat and sat there for the entire movie, entranced, until near the end when she stood.

And what was the movie like? A bear sought honey. Friends fell into a hole. And animals carried around a balloon. They all sang and danced and did funny things. It couldn't have been more perfect. I spent the whole thing looking back and forth between the movie and my girl, to see her reaction. She stared, she smiled, she laughed, and she did not cry. We sat through every single one of the credits.

It turned out, too, that there was the exact right number of kids in the theater. They helped us all know when, exactly, to laugh--although at one point Kalina did become that one person who laughs when no one else does. I thought it was cute, even if no one else did.

Although Kalina was a tiny bit confused on the plot when I quizzed her later (what part did you like best?), she thoroughly enjoyed the overall storyline, possibly since she practically wrote it herself ahead of time, as well as the characters. Her favorites alternate between "the donkey who loses its tail" and Tigger.

On the way home, Kalina told me that the movie theater was her new favorite place. Maybe when they play Winnie the Pooh again, we'll see another one. Or maybe The Adventures of an Armful of Cute Kittens? Isn't that supposed to come out next year?

The best part about this movie was the stories it inspired in the next few days. Shortly after our adventure, Kalina decided that Pinky was painting signs for her garden, just like Rabbit did in the movie. What did the signs say, I wondered? A few of Kalina's rules for living:
Don't start a fire if the baby is in the chimney.
Don't fly in the sky unless you have a bird with you.
Don't fall into a hole unless you have a friend with you.
Don't hang kittens from trees because a fire truck might have to come get them down.
Babies shouldn't go high up into trees because they might get stuck.
And many more that I've unfortunately forgotten.

One final related quip. What does Kalina want to be for Halloween? A sign. What should the sign say? "Don't touch any signs."

And that is the cuteness going on right now at our house.

Baby talk

Taken more than a month ago at
the old house, but it
certainly hasn't lost its cuteness.

Have you heard Elise's shriek lately? I can't imagine anyone hasn't, as it resonates from one end of a Super Target to the other, or likely across our nice, new, quiet neighborhood.

I'm not even talking about a frustrated, angry or sad shriek, and in fact, many times it's a "LOOK NOW!!! UP THERE ON THE LEFT IS A DISPLAY OF LARGE, FLUFFY STUFFED ANIMALS, THE LIKES OF WHICH I HAVE NEVER SEEN. WHEEL ME UP THERE RIGHT NOW, I MUST BURY MY FACE IN THEM!" I think it's pretty cute (in these instances), but I'm not sure people on the other side of the store do. Rarely do I let her indulge, as taking away the large fluffy thing (or whatnot) produces a string of even louder shrieks, and not the good kind. (And there is no toy in my diaper bag that can distract her from that.)

[Kalina, by the way, has caught on to Elise's happy shrieks and mildly comments, "Maybe she wants to see those." Yes, she probably does, Sweetie.]

In fact, if we were to use alliteration to describe Elise, and even if we weren't, one good word would be "enthusiastic." I don't know if it's more her age or more her personality, or both, but Elise gets really excited at things like fruit, the bunny book, the puppy page of the animal book, anything soft, and anything remotely resembling a ball.

But what's really cool is that Elise is finding a new way to demonstrate her excitement: with words! If she likes something, she wants to say it (and not always scream it). And the whole household is right there with her, helping her along.

It started with "Mama." The baby may have been saying it for weeks without me believing it was the real thing, but eventually I got the picture. How sweet! I'm her first word! This word, however, soon became a catch-all for anything that had gone wrong. "Mama!" Elise would moan to say, "My cup got tossed off my tray again!" or "I can't reach that light bulb!" "Make it better, Mama!"

Aunt Laura and Uncle Chris visited
more than a month ago! I have never
seen Kalina so excited.

"Dada" soon followed, as did ball, duck, bear, dog, cat, book, and balloon.

Yes, that's right--the baby can say "balloon." It all began when the neighbors tied a couple balloons on the mailbox for one day to celebrate their daughter's birthday. Elise and I talked about that balloon for hours, until finally, she came out with a, "boo," instead of "bah." Close enough for me, as it's enough to distinguish the word from "ball." The balloons were gone the next day (I know because Elise sadly pointed out their absence), and the poor baby has been disappointed several times a day ever since as she unsuccessfully seeks them out.

Elise adds to her vocabulary every couple of days, and probably more often, except we're usually too busy cleaning up the tiny pieces of tissue Kalina has strewn across the house, or trying to get the baby to eat any protein at all, to notice.

It's a good thing Elise is already showing an aptitude for strong verbal skills, as she will have a careful teacher as she gets older. Kalina, who has taken on Elise's vocabulary as a kind of a mini-project,
has been working with Elise to teach her new words.

Lots of fun!

For instance, if Elise grabs her cup at the breakfast table and randomly mentions, "buh, buh," Kalina corrects her with, "Cup doesn't start with B, Elise!!" I can't not smile. I also find it ironic that while I was working with Kalina today to help her pronounce "drink" so that it doesn't sound like "krink," Elise was following right along. "Duh!" she proclaimed as I showed her her cup. Maybe between the two of them they'll get it just perfect!"

And then there are the "mystery" words. "Bah!" Shouts Elise joyfully in the library. "Where's the ball?" is my first thought. But there is none. Apparently, "bah" is a catchall that will be revealed specifically at a later time.



She's also wriggling her way into conversations. "Look, Kalina, there's someone walking a dog!" I commented on the way home from the library today. "Dah!" replied Elise, looking around. I believe Kalina ignored me.

The baby can even make requests. "Buh," Elise told me after finishing her bedtime milk. She was pointing toward a small stack of books, at the bottom of which was the aforementioned bunny book (she remembered it was there because we'd read it a few minutes ago). I could tell by her face that it was just the nighttime story she wanted.

We will miss the purple
dinosaur. Wouldn't you?

Nothing, by the way, makes Elise happier, and prouder, than to be understood at this young age. Because when I do hand her her toy "bah," after she askes for it, I'm rewarded with smiles and gurgles that surpass everything except, possibly, a good tickling by skunk puppet.

Also making Elise proud lately: setting her cup upright on the floor, sorting shapes in a shape sorter (with only a little help!), taking a few teetering steps in a row (she still prefers crawling), handing you anything and having you thank her for it, and stacking two objects. In case you hadn't noticed, this has the same effect on her mommy.:)

Baby noises

Elise probably in mid-sound. Look
how happy she is!

Vocal cords are a funny thing. Apparently, anyway, to someone who's not used to using them. And Elise has quite the repertoire of sounds. Following is a list of the noises Elise can make/has commonly made using hers:

Grunt: One of Elise's earlier noises, this grunt meant little more than "I'm here, making noise, hear me grunt."

Mmmmmaaaaa: Elise's first consonant happened to be the letter "M!" Which means she can kind of say Mama. I insist to Matt that she doesn't associate the word with me yet, but as the baby only uses it when she's upset, I'm secretly not so sure she doesn't know exactly what she's saying.

Roar: The baby began to roar a few weeks ago, quickly followed by the toddler, who thinks roaring is fun and hilarious. Really, it is, and it passes my criteria for a safe activity we can all do together.



Elise loves to swing! I
actually swing her higher than
Kalina.

Boo-boo-boo: The other day I got to witness Elise saying "B" for the first time. She'd let out a little puff of air, and then say "boo," and it was so adorable I couldn't help but say "boo" back. Many times. I congratulated her on her new skill and she seemed quite pleased with herself.
Oooooowooooowooo: At times, Elise's sounds resemble that of a sweet little fire engine. This is most likely to happen when she's well-fed and well-rested and has something interesting to play with. It's my favorite.

Shriek: Elise has certainly perfected the shrill, glass-breaking shriek that makes the whole family cringe. This often happens during solid-feeding time when Mommy has to leave the table (and a still-hungry baby) to fetch something from the kitchen (ketchup and mustard for the toddler's carrots, for instance). As this can happen about a dozen times in the course of one meal, I now prepare for my absence by sprinkling Cheerios halves across Elise's tray to keep her happy. Kalina appreciates this tactic, happily commenting when I return, "Elise didn't even scream!"

Laugh: Of course, Elise is quite adept at laughing by now. After all, she has a hilarious older sister to watch. When she's supposed to be eating, or getting her diaper changed.

Cry: We do this one too, on occasion.

Pppbbbttthhh: Elise still loves to blow raspberries. They mean, "I'm done with my food, Mommy, so you can have this bite back." I really just need to learn to wear a raincoat, especially when Elise is dining on pureed prunes. Sometimes Elise uses tiny raspberry noices to voice her approval of or interest in something, a habit that I've unfortunately picked up.

Conversation: Although most of the conversation in the house happens around Elise, she'll occasionally join in in her sweet little way. "Oooha?" she'll ask. "Ooowwwooo!" we'll reply. And so it continues.

20 million questions

My dear friend, Krista, who happens to
be a photographer, took some amazing
pictures of our family!

As soon as a child can begin to form words and sentences, you finally begin get a good peek into her mind. This has been going on for more than a year with Kalina, and I've always thought every glimpse I've gotten has been fascinating. Here is creativity unbridled. Few things are more inspiring than the mind of a child. What in the world is going on in there?

Sometimes not much more than, "Kalina would like a snack," and sometimes, "Mountain Lion is spraying water, milk and juice out of his tail. And his tail is cleaning it up," in response to my educational diatribe about what happens at the post office. Either way, Kalina's at an age where she pretty much tells me everything that's running through her mind, including an ironic "Kalina does not want to talk," followed a mere 10 seconds later by: "But Elise wants to talk," followed by Kalina letting me know what Elise was thinking.

As Kalina's language skills tighten up (we're now perfecting pronouns, saying "Mommy" instead of "Mama" and beginning questions) and she becomes increasingly in control of her linguistic universe, we face new challenges. For instance, we have her keen ability to notice every single mistake I make:

Me: Are your cats going to drink their milk?
Kalina: No, Mommy, they lick milk.

Or

Aunt Nancy: Time to add oatmeal to the cookie dough!
Kalina: No, oats!

Plus every single story in which I accidentally switch a "the" for an "a" and the like. Skipping a sentence or a page by mistake usually results in tears, while for other mistakes I may have to endure minutes of chiding laughter at my ignorance.

I'm slowly pondering how I'm going to teach Kalina that some mistakes don't require a gleeful "Mommy messed up!" and that in some households, pointing out each and every little accident of speech might be considered rude, even.

But that it's okay to let Mommy know if her socks don't match or she has frosting on her nose. But only before we go out, and not once we're in public lest she draw extra attention to my foibles. It's a delicate balance.

Fortunately, Kalina doesn't use all of her linguistic talents for ill. In fact, she's been remarkably handy lately in interpreting Elise's grunts, roars and "monkey-being-attacked-by-a-hyena"-shrill screeches for me. Sometimes with the best grammar I've heard out of the girl yet (does that mean Elise will be even more of a grammarian than Kalina? Heaven help us!).

For instance, Elise's grunts in the grocery store apparently meant, through Kalina's undoubtedly exacting translation, "'I want to get out of the cart, Mommy, let me out, I want to walk, I don't want to ride!' says Elise." If Elise were uprightly mobile I might have believe Kalina, but I had a sneaking suspicion that the toddler might be making things up.

Considering Kalina herself never uses such phrases as "No, Mommy, I don't want to wear a hat!" or "No, no, no, Mommy, I don't want to take a nap!" I sometimes think that Kalina sees Elise as an evil twin, alter-ego, or merely an outlet for unpopular expressions. That is okay: she can state her true feelings via Elise and we can both have a good laugh as we get on with the day.

And then there are the questions, which are always phrased like statements. "Kalina does not know if flowers turn into leaves," or "Kalina does not know if Lamby (or Beancat, or Elise) has stuffing." There are questions about everything--from where cars come from to if there will be a truck at church to whether a friend's dog will be attending a birthday party.

The best/worst part is trying to explain complex systems in straightforward English so that Kalina can actually understand and relate to. Sometimes my explanations end up so garbled that even an adult couldn't understand, while sometimes I actually succeed in making sense of a complicated matter. Sometimes I get it completely wrong, either because I have no idea what the real answer is or I know the real answer would only scare her  ("Thunder is just clouds bumping together!"). Sometimes Matt corrects me when I get it wrong ("Thunder is the sound lightening makes as it rushes through the air to hit the ground or an object!"). It's probably both a good and a bad thing that Kalina is not yet old enough to Google things herself.

While I have had to explain a million times where Daddy is every day, I fortunately have not had to silence Kalina's queries about whether another grocery store patron is particularly rotund. Yet.

Kalina also never asks, "How's your day been, Mommy, and is there anything I can do to help?" Yet.

Talk, talk, talk!

Lately, one of Kalina's most adamant requests of us has been "Talk, talk, talk!" She wants us to talk. Usually as the voice of one of her myriad animal friends, and she can hardly be satiated even after hours of really repetitive scenarios and conversations ("Oh yay, hot dogs for everyone again!").

We, of course, run out of interesting things to say to the animals within a few sentences, but our gigs are saved by the fact that our audience things jokes get even funnier each time you tell them. That's not to say Kalina's not a critic--she keeps the animals firmly in line--but at least we know some sure-fire ways to get a laugh.

We can't help but be annoyed by this near-constant demand (she never sweetens it with a "please"), but it's also quite cute. She shows off for them, takes care of them, laughs with/at them, chides them and more.

She doesn't even seem to mind when Daddy uses Camel puppet to talk to Mommy about his day. "Today at work..." he says in his wise, old camel voice, and Kalina accepts this at least for a short time, until she starts distributing hot dogs out of thin air once again for everyone to munch on because Camel's conversation, in her opinion, has gotten a bit dull and needs to be livened up a bit.

I've also noticed that Kalina's much more likely to obey our hedgehog puppet than Mommy herself. I save this knowledge for dire situations, but I do occasionally adopt Harriet as an accessory until Kalina's willing to be a bit more cooperative.

In a moment of clarity, we realized that with all our talk, we've become Kalina's television. In this way, it's possibly to the detriment of our own sanity that we don't let her watch, but we still press on with our "no TV until Kalina's a teenager or the baby arrives, whichever comes first," rule.

And we put Kalina to work talking, as well. Two of our newest hobbies include asking Kalina to say complex, multi-syllable words, and asking her opinion on things that she couldn't possibly have an opinion on just to hear what absurd things she'll reply. Both give us a good laugh:

Us: Kalina, say "infrastructure!"
Kalina: Intrfasturca!
Us: Hahahaha! Say it again, Kalina, say "infrastructure!"
And so forth. Poor girl. Fortunately, she's usually laughing too.

Or,

Us, as Daddy's leaving for work: Kalina, doesn't Daddy's outfit look sharp today?
Kalina: No.
Us: Well, does it look nice? (already cracking up)
Kalina: No. (straight-faced)
Us: Does it look nerdy?
Kalina: No.
Us: Oh good, does it just look okay?
Kalina: Yes.
Us: Full-out hilarity.

Fortunately, Kalina is quite good-natured in each of these instances and so far doesn't seem to mind when we all have a good chuckle at her expense. All the parenting books would probably tell us that we're terrible parents for doing this, and that studies show our child will neither make it into Harvard or out of therapy, but we're enjoying ourselves too much to pay attention.

Kalina's definitely off to the races with her chatter, by the way. Although most of you will never hear it (she clams up around anyone who's not a blood relative or an animal), Kalina can keep up with conversations with astonishing ease. And if the conversations aren't about cats or fishing, for example, she simply changes the subject.

She doesn't even let punctuation get in the way entertaining us with lengthy monologues about:

"The white-tailed deer ate the big dirt pile and went into the sewer drain and the spiders got the white-tailed deer back out and it went to Grandma's house on an airplane and came back home," for instance. (This was in reference to what happened to the big dirt pile that was a popular landmark along our route out of our neighborhood for months. I saw a solitary digger truck cart it away, but Kalina wasn't in the car at the time and this is what she believes happened to it.)

In the end, we both love conversing with our toddler (even through puppets) and finally getting some glimpses into what goes on in that mind of hers. We're almost always pleasantly surprised. And at the very least, we can all have a good laugh together.

Uh-oh. Trash fell down. Fountain broke.

Most toddlers would agree that riding in the car is no fun, and Kalina would certainly agree. Fortunately, with the advent of two-way communication that does not necessarily include crying (for either of us), car trips have become more bearable as Kalina gains more experience with the English language.

For one, I can incentivise almost every trip, whether it's a jaunt to the park (easy) an expedition to the grocery store (trickier: "Will you help me find eggs? And bananas? And milk?" Three of her favorite things to find), or a visit to the doctor (nearly impossible if I didn't plan a visit to Aunt Nancy or a park or even the grocery store afterward, if at all possible).

But mostly, it helps that we're able to converse as we go. I find our conversations cute, if redundant, and Kalina finds them vastly useful in conveying to me the vital knowledge that a green bus is in our vicinity, and that she would like to see another green bus as soon as possible.

To which I reply, "We'll look for another green bus, will you help me find one?" and bank on her being content in anticipation until she forgets the search 45 seconds later on her discovery of a dump truck, at which point we'll begin looking for another dump truck. And so on.

It should be noted that Lamby, or Cow, or White Doggie, or Mountain Lion, or White Cat, or whichever companion she's chosen for the trip will generally aid our search by being held up by the neck to be able to see out the front window (and also directly into my rearview mirror) better. Cute, cute, cute.

Over a month ago, while we were driving to the grocery store on trash day, Kalina noticed that one of the blue trash cans along our route had tipped over.

"Uh-oh, trash fell down!" she worriedly informed me.
"You're right, the trash can did fall down!"
"Uh-oh, trash fell down!" she said more emphatically, frowning and tearing up a little.
"That's okay, someone will pick it up again!" I brightly reassured her. The girl was clearly distressed and I was hoping to smooth it over.
"Uh-oh!" She reaffirmed.

And with a combination of sympathy and a positive outlook for the future of the garbage can, we repeated this exchange several times until we got to the store. And on the way back (despite the fact that I clearly noted that someone must have picked it up, because there were no fallen trash cans anywhere). And then every time we took that route. And now about 5 times a day.

Not only that, we've added a broken fountain to the conversation. It used to spew water. Now it doesn't, so it's broken.

Poor Kalina. She does worry about things, and so her sweet little mind needed to figure out a solution. Which she did, without any prompting from me. Now the conversation goes something like this:

"Uh-oh. Trash fell down. Fountain broke."
"Yes, Sweetie, that's right."
"Uh-oh. Trash fell down. Fountain broke."
"Yes, but someone will take care of them!"
"Di-dah" (this means Daddy. She reverses the syllables because it's cuter that way.)
"Sure, Sweetie, Daddy will take care of them!"
Smiles.

And we still have the conversation several times a day. Daddy must be busy!

We told Matt that his official job now is trash-can-picker-upper and fountain-fixer, and so he mounted a re-branding effort to teach Kalina that really, he's a Scientist. Here's how that went:

"Kalina, Daddy's job is a Scientist!"
"Scientist."
"That's right! What does Daddy do?"
"Trash fell down! Fountain broke!" Triumphantly.

Photo: Kalina in her car.