March 2013

March 2013

Mab talk

Last night at the dinner table, she asked, "What id dis? Beeeeet?" (It was a scallion.)

And then she saw that I was upset (low blood sugar + end of day), and asked sweetly, "What da madda?"

She puts her food down on the "pable" and agrees "otay."

If you try to do anything for her, or for anyone else, for that matter, she says "I got it."

When I told her not to touch her bottom because if she then touched her mouth, bad bacteria could make her sick, she grinned and said, "tasty poop! Eat it! Yum!" To which the only possible reply was "that's a funny joke, Mab. Now let's go wash your hands."

We keep thinking she is saying "amen," but it's actually "oh man!"

She wants to "pat goggies," but worships "Dod." Speaking of whom:

A: Do you love God?
M: Yes!
A: What is God's name?
M: Princess! On the top! On the button!
A: Huh. Does Jesus love you?
M: Yes!
A: Who is Jesus' father?
M: [looks at buttons]
A: Is his father the Holy Spirit?
M: Yes!
A: Is his father God?
M: Maybe.
A: Do you have anything to say about God?
M: Amen.

Music and Poetry

Last night, the family was making loud noises with tin whistles while I was cleaning up after dinner. Faelan came over and whispered that he had just tried to play "millet for the mumble, mumble, rags and bones mumble, mumble." Later, further inquiry revealed that he had been making up a tune for a scrap of poem that  he remembered thus: "Millet for the poor, rags and bones for the wicked wolves without the walls at night," which he said came from the song of Shiv and the Grasshopper, from the Jungle Book.

I looked it up this morning, and here are the 9th through 12th lines:


Wheat he gave to rich folk, millet to the poor,
Broken scraps for holy men that beg from door to door;
Cattle to the tiger, carrion to the kite,
And rags and bones to wicked wolves without the wall at night.

What a lovely scrap to have inside his head!

February 2013 photos

February 2013

January 2013 photos

January 2013

Fun day for talking

Mab burped, and I asked, "What do you say?"
     "Burp, burp. I do burp." Well, not quite what I was looking for.

I was lifting Faelan up on my legs, and Mab cried, "My turn!"
     "Your turn to what?" I asked.
     "My turn to ride!"

New this week

"I do it!" and also "I'll do it!"
"Have it! Chocolate!" (Um, no.) "Have it! Medicine!" (Likewise, nohow.)
"I got you!"
"My turn!"
"I got Mommy phone." This with as smug a smirk as you could hope to see.
"Cat wet. Dry! Towel!"
"Faelan sleep. Daddy sleep."
"Brush. My brush. My blue." (She's trying to say, "my blue brush.") "Brush handle."

These are not quite so new, but in daily use:
"Bite, hit, push, hurt, fall..." and "ice." As in, she needs ice because she ran into the table, or because she bit Faelan after he pushed her. Not that that would ever happen in our house.

"Pumming!" means "coming" and "poffee!" is coffee, but "told!" is cold and "tiss!" is kiss.

"Cute! Daddy cute."

Last night she had some visually interesting dreams, to judge from her sleep talk: "Orange? Orange?! Orange??!!! Blue!" Perhaps an hour later, this was followed by, "Pretty! Pretty, pretty, pretty."