As we drove home last night from dinner (after I embarrassingly overcooked my roast, I simply couldn't ask the people I love to endure it...even though they would have if given no other options--because they love me), we were explaining to Bryn what to expect when we get home. She--like her mother (or perhaps because of her mother)--loves lists.
"First, we'll drive home. Then, we'll take a bath. And then, we'll pick out and read books. And then, we'll go night-night." Sometimes she'll correct missing steps in the list like putting on PJs or brushing teeth, but it's a pretty standard routine.
Wednesday night had a gorgeous full moon that was fairly low in the sky. Bryn asked where the sun was, and I offered the painfully inaccurate explanation "The sun has gone to sleep." As an educator, I should know better. I just created a neural pathway that will have to be corrected later on simply because it was the first thing I thought of. Nice work, Mom.
Last night, however, was cloudy, so we could not see the moon on our drive home. Bryn started asking again about the moon and sun, but this time she offered a pretty thorough description of what was probably going on in the heavens. I'm paraphrasing considerably, but it went something like this.
"Maybe the daddy and mommy moon are getting ready to wash he. Yes, the daddy moon is giving the baby moon a bath to get ready for night-night, and the mommy moon is reading books, and the sun is at school playing with her friends."
I wish I could remember all the details because it went on for a while and ended up with "Maybe that's it."
Yep, honey... maybe so.
Friday, September 28, 2007
Saturday, September 1, 2007
Um, who's John?
Bryn has started using more sophisticated terms for family relationships. Now, all men don't have to be daddys. In fact, she's worked out a pretty good list of the fathers and daughters in our family, thanks to a Paul Simon song.
She has also started talking about husbands. I thought we came to understand that husbands are a smaller universe of men. That is, until a conversation in the car yesterday.
Bryn: "Who's my husband?"
Mom: "You don't have a husband, sweetie. Only grown-ups have husbands or wives."
Bryn: "I have a yittle husband."
Mom: "Oh, you do?"
Bryn [matter of factly]: "Yes. It's John."
Mom: [not knowing a John in her life right now] "Is John in your class at school?"
Bryn: "No."
Mom: "Did you meet John at church?"
Bryn: "No."
Mom: [silently trying to figure out who she might be talking about]
Bryn: "I need to find him. He's my husband."
Beau would like to find him as well.
She has also started talking about husbands. I thought we came to understand that husbands are a smaller universe of men. That is, until a conversation in the car yesterday.
Bryn: "Who's my husband?"
Mom: "You don't have a husband, sweetie. Only grown-ups have husbands or wives."
Bryn: "I have a yittle husband."
Mom: "Oh, you do?"
Bryn [matter of factly]: "Yes. It's John."
Mom: [not knowing a John in her life right now] "Is John in your class at school?"
Bryn: "No."
Mom: "Did you meet John at church?"
Bryn: "No."
Mom: [silently trying to figure out who she might be talking about]
Bryn: "I need to find him. He's my husband."
Beau would like to find him as well.
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