Bye-bye!

Okay, "Bye-bye" is the new "Yay!" for Connor these days. He says it in this high-pitched, kind of dreamy way, almost a baby version of a falsetto, extending the last vowel sound, so it's sort of "Bye-byyyyye."

He has some sense of context for it. He likes to say "bye-bye" as anyone, including himself, goes out the door. Especially memorable for Sarah was his invoking it when they went to a beach by a lake recently with her friend Katy. Sarah would sit Connor on the edge of the water, and he would say "Bye-bye" and crawl purposefully off into the water, at which point she would grab him and repeat the funny, but a little scary, process.

He also uses it when someone comes in the door, however, and is especially pleased to say it when we go in to get him after a nap. It seems that for Connor, "Bye-bye" is like "Aloha," and can mean hello and goodbye.

Why?

We have discovered that reports of the "why" phase were really not exaggerated. The word probably passes Jamie's lips 30 times a day at the least. I would like here to record some of the many ways in which he has queried us with regard to the nature of life, the universe and everything:

Why we are next to this lake?
Why bricks are not food?
Why I was born a boy?
Why Annabelle (Sarah's parents' cat) was not born a dog?
Why did it rain? (X25)
Why mud is dirty?
Why the sun is going to bed?
Why the wheels are under the car?
Why you don't know? (X25)
Why this is Wednesday?
Why this is Earth?
Why there was a Big Bang?

Broccoli, broccoli

Well, it was a momentous occasion last week, one which Sarah correctly thought worthy of recording in the annals: both boys actually asked us for broccoli on the same day, at the same meal. The form taken by these requests was typical: for Connor, it was a matter of envy. He saw that we were having broccoli, and, despite having a tray full of food in front of him determined to let us know, in his inimitable way, that he thought it only fair that he should have some of what we were having. For Jamie, the request took the form of a negative, i.e., "I don't want peas." Casting about he saw our broccoli and settled on that as a desirable alternative.

So there it is. It may never happen again, but at least we can say there was a brief moment of vegetable synergy.

Squirpmunk

This is not related to Jamie and Connor exactly, but as I write there is a creature outside the window that, while clearly a squirrel, has a white and black stripe and non-bushy tail that is distinctly reminiscent of the chipmunks which also live around here. Hmm, strange things are afoot in these blue states up here.

Words and sounds

Connor, who has been known to many of you as a quiet, easy baby for most of his life, has become much more...vocal, we'll call it. For a child who can still only gum his food, he eats an impressive range and amount of food. No one is allowed to eat anything under Connor's very watchful gaze now. If he is not getting it, no matter what it may be, he screams with a volume and pitch that is attention-getting to say the least. We've also been trying to teach him the sign for more, but he has found that when he signs more we calmly say okay, and casually begin to go about the business of getting more food. Screaming his head off, however, has the effect of getting us both to run to get him the first food product we can find. You guess which method he tends to prefer.

"Yay!" is sort of out right now, though he still likes to clap. While our friend Suzanne was here, she and Jamie would play "Yum yums," which was really Suzanne's clever way of getting Jamie to eat things like broccoli, while they would both say "yum yum." Connor liked this very much and joined in saying "mum mum mum mum."

He has also developed a number of words and has said at various times, "Daddy," "Mommy," "Jamie," and, to Nana and Pops's cat, "Kitty." Indicative of our world in Vermont, he is also interested in birds now and may have said "bird" today. Still he prefers to scream.

Stories of cars and strange names

Our time in Vermont has seen limited internet access and thus blogging, but with the chance appearance of a wireless connection, I'll try and relate some of the new traditions that have emerged here. The ability to go outside during the summer months has made a big difference in little and small ways. For instance, Jamie has taken to enjoying a popsicle on the porch after dinner. It's a messy business, even in the relative cool of a Vermont summer. But this has also become a time for discussion as he likes to sit out there with one of us and "talk about things." As some of you know Jamie likes to throw out topics for discussion. Often this is a challenging constellation of elements. For instance he might say, "Let's talk about babies, bottles and...trees." Or, "Let's talk about working trucks, dirt and snacks." Lately, however, he is into having us making up stories for him.

Predictably, this soon became focused on cars and trucks and we've had to limit the time for these stories to when we were in the car. Jamie's main contribution to the story are names. Thus far we have discussed a cross-country driving big rig named "Clake Big," a pair of race cars who create baby race cars (no details asked, none given on this process), named Clean and Beean, and, our personal favorite, a run-away orange Volkswagen Beetle named "Clampy Amp Cleeamp."

The simple things

When we are trying to imagine elaborate schemes and activities to make Jamie happy, it is often instructive for us to remember the pure, absolute joy that he is so often able to take in the simplest things. When we were in Frederick with Nonni and Diddy, we went for a walk of about three blocks to the playground. Jamie emerged out of the front door, looked around a little and then exclaimed, "Ooooohh, look! A parking meter!" Then looking down the street, "Ooh look! ANOTHER parking meter!" He did this for most of the walk, with undiminished enthusiasm, except when he was distracted by the only slightly less thrilling fire hydrant (which he used to pronouce, appealingly, hy-druh-yant).

Now that we are in Yavont, the details have changed but the love is the same. When we go for walks now, it's "Look! A driveway reflector!" And my favorite is the identification of certain sunken areas in the road in which the dirt is a little darker than the rest. These are each to be inspected and discussed and are called either "dirty dirt" or "dirty holes" (his pronunciation of holes, I'm afraid, renders it with a bit of an "r" sound instead of the "l" --I'll let you say it aloud). On special days the dirty holes have water in them and become muddy holes. We have to tear him away.