Thursday, October 18, 2012

Sammy Snippets

[Sam has become increasingly verbal over the last few weeks. He's at that stage where he acquires several new words a day and strings them together into increasingly complex sentences. Some of the following quotes from the last eight weeks are duplicates from facebook. They are listed in approximately reverse-chronological order: latest at top, oldest at bottom.] --ed

"Noooo! Bad Mommy! Bad, BAD Mommy!!!!"
--Sam, screaming and thrashing, angry that I was changing his diaper.

"Noooo! Bad Mommy! Bad, BAD Mommy!!!!!!"
--Sam, the next day, kicking and shrieking, furious that I was refusing to change his diaper and instead insisting that he wear pull-ups for the first time.
--According to my mother, I threw a similar fit, at a similar age, when the pediatrician predicted (accurately, alas) that I would be a short adult. Something like "Bad doctor! Mean doctor! Me be bigger [than you] Mommy!"

Sam: I nee'a new nose.
Mommy: You need a new nose?
Sam: [nods]
--Turns out he needed a new tissue for a drippy nose

Jon: Sam, don't touch that.
Sam: Is it fragile?
Jon: [gaping] Did you just say 'fragile'?
Sam: [nods seriously]

--Sam was tickling my feet and asking if I'd had enough.

"I uh boy. Daddy uh boy. Ewuh uh boy. Danny uh boy. Jeff uh baby. Jeffwey uh boy? Mommy's uh guhl."
--I'm so glad he has that straightened out. Positive gender identity is important. I wish he didn't feel the need to quadruple-check those stats several times a week, but I'm living with it.

[From facebook, October 6th]
Sam came over to me and pointed to his elbow. "My ow hurts," he said. I kissed his elbow, and it healed miraculously. Mama magic! "Dayks, mom," he said, then toddled off again.

A few minutes later, he brought me a board book with most of the spine torn off. I kissed it, too. And it healed miraculously! (Well, I didn't see the binding suddenly regenerate, but it must have worked because, once again, he said "Dayks, mom," and toddled off again.)

Major mama mojo!

Above: Sammy's Snake Name. September 17th, 2012.

Sam: Mommy 'appy?
Mommy: Am I happy?
Sam: [nods]
Mommy: Yes. I am happy. I am happy that I have such a sweet Sam.
Sam: Ewuh 'appy?
Mommy: I think so, yes.
Sam: Danny 'appy?
Mommy: Yes, Danny ought to be happy since I agreed to homeschool him.
Sam: Baby Jeff? 'Appy?
Mommy: Yes, Baby Jeff is happy.
Sam: Daddy 'appy?
Mommy: I certainly hope so.
Sam: [waits expectantly for a more definitive answer]
Mommy: Yes. Absolutely. Daddy is a very happy man. [Because if he isn't, he should be, darn it.]
Mommy: Sam, are you happy?
Sam: Sammy 'appy. I appy!
 --It appears the census is in and it shows 100% happiness for our family. Wait, we forgot to poll Bear. But both of Sam's personalities (first and third) answered. It averages out, right? Now I'm just baffled about where on earth that question came from.

[From facebook, October 5th]
I thought Sam was getting past the stage where he names everything after the noise it makes. He walked into the office holding The Pigeon and said, "Mom, dahts a bud."

I did a double-take. Birds used to be "tweets" all of a week ago.

"That's right, Sam!" I encouraged him. "That's a bird. He's The Pigeon. He says 'tweet' and 'let me drive the bus!!!'"

Oops. Sam spent the next several minutes flying The Pigeon around the house shouting "'Let me dwive da bus!!!'"

Perhaps I should never have things make interesting noises, ever again?

--I was quoting from Mo Willem's classic Don't Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus, a book about peer pressure. Fortunately he has not yet connected The Pigeon with his toy "oge cool bus" [orange school bus].

Ewuh go maff? Time go maff!
--Sam, bored, hoping that it was time to take Eric to his math group. (Which, being translated, means "Can I go play at Malachi's house?")

Sam: Bug! BUG!!! [Freaks out]
Daddy: Sam, it's just a bug. Chill.
Sam: BUG!!!! [Attempts to find refuge by climbing on top of his father's head. Well, almost.]
Daddy: [Trying to protect his work laptop] Sam, what's the big deal? What's so scary about a bug?
Sam: It might bite.
--We both thought that was a very impressive sentence for a boy of 29 months. How many 2 1/2 year old kids use conditional verbs?

[Sam falls and hurts himself. He picks himself up and goes running for the office.]
Mommy: [intercepting him] Sam, Daddy isn't available, but could I give you sympathy? I know I'm only your second-string parent, but--
[Sam turns around, bypasses Mommy, and runs straight to Daniel for sympathy.]
Mommy: Ouch. I can handle being second-string to Daddy, but third or fourth?
--Around that time, Sam also developed a marked preference that Eric unbuckle him at the end of car rides. Not mom. Nope.

[From facebook, September 30]

Is two too young to diagnose OCD?
--Gail, sighing over Sam's obsessions, simultaneously creating the perfect sentence for showcasing the three "two" homophones.

"Where's my daddy hug?"
--Sam, wailing that his daddy had left for work without giving him a hug. In Jon's defense, he walked out of the house and got into the car before Sam was up; Sam woke up just in time to watch from a bedroom window as daddy drove away. No fault attaches to Jon for this, but it didn't make the next four hours of toddler obsession and hurt any easier on Sam. Or on his dear, sweet, kind, patient mommy.

[From facebook, September 28th]

"Well, the real reason I withdrew Daniel from Meridian was that I couldn't stand listening to Sam obsess about orange buses." 
-- Gail, explaining why the hour-long round trip wasn't bad, but an hour as a captive audience was agony. ("Oge bus! Dat oge bus head. Hi Bus! Mom! Dat a sool bus! MOM! Oge bus dehw! MOMMY! BUS!!! [Gail finally gives in and acknowledges it's existence.] Bye bus. Mo bus! Wa mo bus!!!") I couldn't have any kind of conversation with an older child. I couldn't listen to the radio. He babbled incessantly. And very, very repetitively. 

[From facebook, September 10th]
In keeping with the motorized vehicles theme, Sam has made two recent pronouncements.

First, he was chattering about "Dahs a chuhch big," when all at once he proclaimed, "Dahs a baby chuhch!" (Translation: "That's a baby truck.") We had been passing semis and garbage trucks, and then he saw a Toyota Tacoma.

Second, as we drove past a parking lot, he said "Ni-ni, car. Ni-ni!" repeatedly.

It took
me a minute to figure out why he was saying good night to all the cars, then I realized. Obviously, mobile cars are "awake." Stationary cars, are, perforce, asleep. Makes perfect sense, now. I feel enlightened.

He's so cute when he comes up with innovative utterances. I just wish he did it more frequently. I'm getting tired of "A truck! More trucks. One truck. Big trucks. Truck big." As thirty-minute monologues. Even with the occasional car and bus thrown in, it grows wearisome. Here's hoping for more diversity. Soon.

[From facebook, September 8th]
Sam thinks I am simultaneously omnipotent and senile.

Yesterday, he kept chattering about trucks and buses. "Dahts a chuhch big! Mom! Dahts a bus! Mommy! One bus! Bye-bye bus! [Pause] Wa' mo' bus. Mom! Mo' bus! Hi, bus! Tanks, Mommy."

[Translation: "That's a big truck. Mom! That's a bus! Mommy! One bus! Bye bye bus! I want more buses. Mom! Cause more buses to appear for my amusement! Oh, look, a
nother school bus! Thanks, Mommy."]

Today he reminded me about a hundred times to buy more milk. At home. In the car. In the grocery store. Constant nagging. "Mom! Mo' moke! Nee' mo' moke. Mommy! I wa' mo' moke. Moke, Mom."

This raises many philosophical questions. Why is it that I can conjure buses and trucks out of thin air, but not milk? Also, why is it that I am sometimes all-powerful but always stupid? Should I feel more flattered or insulted? 

Sam: [going upstairs] Bye, Mom! [unintelligible babble]
Mom: [doing dishes] Bye, Sam!
Sam: Bye, Mom! [garble which Mom tunes out]
Mom: Bye, Sam!
Sam: BYE MOM! Ahgay!
Mom: Bye, sweetie. I'll miss you.
Sam: [extremely frustrated] BYE MOM! Avguday!
Mom: OH! Bye Sam, have a good day.
[Sam, satisfied, finishes climbing the stairs. It was a short day; he was back down within half an hour.]

--Speaking of verbal explosions...from September 19th. Jeff started it. Sam helped finish it. Baby Book Bandits.


Krenn said...

needs more photos of Sammy and Geoffrey. But the stories are cute.

Carolyn said...

Sammy!!! Can I keep him? Please?

Also, I like that he needs a new nose. His Uncle Brian needs a new nose, too. Brian's always gets stuffy when he lays down, so then he ends up waking me up in the middle of the night by blowing it...

Jon said...

Don't forget about the "spatulknife".