July 19th, 2008
Grahamland
The beautiful thing about quoting conversations with a two year old is that there is no such thing as taking it out of context. There IS no context that makes it make sense. He is two. So here’s the kinds of things you’ll hear me say during the course of a normal day:
“No! I mean - yes, milk does come out of cows. But no, it doesn’t come out of their mouths.”
“I do not want to have to say this again: NO riding tricycles during dinner.”
“Honey, people don’t like when you stab them. No one likes that.”
(the response to this was: Why? Why do people not like that? Nicolaus never did the classic “why why why” thing. He asked questions, but they were more what questions. What is that bird doing? What is the meaning of life? Etc. But Graham is doing the why thing. It’s very endearing but lately I sort of want to die by the end of the day. (Why?) )
Graham’s other excellent questions and comments from the past few days include:
“I have a penis. What do YOU have?”
“Barack OMAMA! That’s funny. Barack. O. NICOLISS!”
Oh and he has his birthday all planned out. On his birthday we will wake up and go to the zoo, where he is hoping to ride and/or pet and/or befriend a baby giraffe. Because adult ones are way too big, duh. Then we will drive home and there will be a party waiting for him in his house with a cake and a green balloon and a yellow balloon also. And that will be happy!
I was surprised that he didn’t want to go to Chuck E Cheese after completely loving his cousin’s recent birthday party there. But today he told Kevin, “Daddy? I love Chuck E Cheese. But, Daddy? That big-enormous mouse? Freaked me OUT.”
We’ve never heard him use that phrase before, but he’s right. Big mouse = freaky. And I’m pretty sure Chuck is in fact a rat, which is even more freaky. Either way, a definite health code violation to have him cooking pizza for children.
Also overheard in Grahamland:
I have babies in my tummy too. Mine are two girl babies. They don’t have a penis, but they can still poop.
(playing with tiny plastic people and a large plastic jeep): You’d better be good in that jeep! No! I’m going to be really naughty! Don’t do that, don’t be naughty in that jeep!
I stopped myself from interrupting his quiet pretend play. But I really want to know what the hell was going on in that jeep.
When our friends were here last week, he was quite taken with their two-year-old Maggie. He eagerly shared his toys with her, followed her all over the park, and generally went along with anything she suggested. They both speak standard dialects of garbled toddler, and they both listened to each other attentively, nearly ripping my car in half with cuteness whenever we put them in carseats side by side and drove around listening to them converse. The only time I saw Graham yell at her was one night at dinner.
GRAHAM: Mama, I want ice wadder in my cup.
MAGGIE: Can me has ice wawa pease? Me want ice wawa.
GRAHAM: We don’t have ice lava.
MAGGIE: Yes!! Me WANT ice wawa in my CUP.
GRAHAM: You can’t have lava in your cup. We don’t have lava.
MAGGIE: ME WANT WAWA
GRAHAM: NO WE DON’T HAVE ANY LAVA!
MAGGIE: YESSSS!!!! WAWAAAAA
GRAHAM: NOOOOO YOU CAN’T HAVE LAVA!!!
It true, you can go ahead and judge me. I don’t buy lava for my kids to drink, because I don’t think that beverages that are >2500 F are good for growing bodies. That plus artificial dyes and sweeteners are my big hang ups. I know, I know, when they are 18 and they go off to college they’re going to go totally out of control and drink nothing BUT molten sedimentary rock because it’s been the forbidden fruit all these years, but you know what? They will be adults making that choice. And by then their bones will have fully formed and a cure may have been found for permanent disfigurement caused by fourth degree internal burn wounds.
July 19th, 2008 at 11:51 pm
My 2 year old has also discovered the power of “why?”. I have to confess that I have been falling back on “Why What?”. It slows him down as he tries to explain what he wants to know more about and sometimes gives me relief.
I too have a lava free household. You crack me up!
July 20th, 2008 at 12:40 am
My kiddos are all firmly convinced that Chuckie Cheese is actually a big fat rat. I have heard numerous times that it is “7 kinds of wrong” that pizza is being paired with a rodent and especially such a creepy one.
July 20th, 2008 at 2:09 pm
I have lurked here for a while, but never commented before. I just have to say that I LOVE the way you write about your kids. Brilliant.
My 3yo is a big “why why why” girl. I have learned that if I ask her “Why do you think?” in response, she will answer her own question. I don’t do it for every “why,” just the ones that are either nonsensical or unaswerable or the ones I know she already knows the answer to. It is a very effective tool for hanging onto ones sanity. : )
July 20th, 2008 at 2:14 pm
Also, I agree about the creepiness of Chuckie Cheese. Whenever we are there my daughter is always looking for him out of the corner of her eye, not because she wants to see him, but to avoid him at all costs. She is terrified he will sneak up on her. I have to confess that whenever she asks me, “Mommy, where is Chunky Cheese?”[that is what she calls him], I have to resist the urge to lean over and whisper “He’s in our van.” Because I am mean like that. At least I resist actually saying it…
July 20th, 2008 at 4:44 pm
Bwahahahahahaha! Graham cracks me up. He really speaks well for a 2 yo. Probably has something to do with not watching television, or articulate parents, or some such thing.
I agree on your lava stance, too. Children don’t need to be drinking it.
July 21st, 2008 at 8:39 am
If you think lava’s bad going IN…
Jill W. - the van thing - brilliant. We didn’t have an actual “live” Charles E. in our Cheese. He was an animatronic one that would come out every 20 minutes or so on stage and kind of lurch. around. to tinny sounding music and then at the end he would lurch slower and slower as the curtain enveloped him and then it would fall silent until the next round. Every child in the place would be frozen mid-bite in catatonic terror for the whole performance, and then when it stopped, they would melt into screaming puddles of post traumatic toddlerhood. I have no idea what they were thinking with that.
July 21st, 2008 at 9:10 am
Jill, I think you and I would get along brilliantly.
Squirl, well he learned from the master! Although to be fair, reading what he says probably makes him sound more articulate than if you hear it. He’s actually kind of hard to understand lately. He’s trying to talk faster now, and he runsallhiswordstogetherandskipskeyconsonants. I miss my little Captain Kirk!
July 22nd, 2008 at 7:37 am
As always, your writing is heartbreakingly loving and hysterical. Thanks. Keep writing.
July 24th, 2008 at 12:41 am
Igneous