Scout’s Chinese is hilarious. I think because it is a language that focuses on tones (it has four tones per syllable), it is just a really funny language to hear. Especially when Scout speaks. He emphasizes the tones, and it is classic! In honor of his new language speaking skills, I often have him speak Chinese for others.
The other day, while Britni Seastrand was over, I had him do a little showing off. In response, she offered her own version of Chinese back to him. When she finished, she said, “What did I say?” She was getting a little sassy with Scout. But she got a taste of her own medicine when he responded with, “I don’t know, but something about Christmas.” She gasped, and couldn’t believe that in her own Chinese made-up talk, she got the word Christmas in there.
When she told me the story, I was dying! Like he knows the word for Christmas. But, clearly he knows how to pull one over on someone! I better start learning Chinese, because I don’t want to be his daily victim.
It’s been a long time — nearly 3 months — since I have been to Abalone.
It was good to be back.
The girls were at their post on the stairs with the hose.
The big boys were getting their feet wet.
The little boy ate sand and crawled after birds all afternoon.
And someone was practicing her cartwheels.
At times — unsuccessfully.
I love that Dash is on the move.
He NEVER stops anymore.
When I hold him, he just wants out of my arms to get going.
Especially when he sees the other Tweedles playing.
He jumps right in to their games and sometimes takes a beating.
But he is as hearty as it gets.
He rarely gets hurt, and if he does, he whimpers for .2 seconds.
And I love how much my #1 and #2 love #3.
It is constant adoration.
Icka gets on these kicks where she mimics the way I talk to him, and she is to die for.
“Dashy….oh Dashy….you are SOOO nice. You are the cutest baby in the whooooole world. Come on….come on….follow me.”
Most of the times — these three together is Heaven to me.
Scout found some interesting things in the dress ups this time.
Spiderman, BYU Cougars, Moon Feet all wrapped up on one nail-biting boy.
Somehow, Navy’s chore chart from preschool went missing. (Maybe she caught on and destroyed it because the sucker reward wasn’t worth having to work.) So I made her a new one. She got smiley faces on teeth, prayers and cleaning up toys. But when it came to making her bed, I quoted her, “The cleaners are coming today, Mommy.”
So we turned it in as honestly as possible.
I had Navy’s preschool class over to go swimming. I told Navy about it the morning of, and she was literally beside herself with excitement. She was in the bath when I told her, and she dramatically stopped everything she was doing and exclaimed, “OOOHHHH! This is my first party in the universe!”
She could not have been a better helper all morning. And I was pretty excited about the fact that she was SO excited. When Britni picked her up from school while I was getting the shin dig together, apparently she told all of the kids, “Okay, the party starts NOW!”
And they all followed Brit to my house — and it was a swim afternoon that will go down in Navy’s book as “the best party in my life”.
After I told all of the preschoolers to get on the ledge for a picture, Scout insisted on a Kindergarten picture.
And the pre-preschooler just cruised with fruit all afternoon.
Dash is blossoming.
This boy tries to communicate with me at every turn.
His most recent thing is my most favorite.
Every time I reprimand him, or he doesn’t get his way, or he is too tired to crawl across the room to me….I get a boy who drops his head in a dramatic fashion and fake cries.
I think it is hilarious.
Clearly he gets it from Navy who is a major fake crier.
(Although she has settled down on it because if she is “crying” and I don’t see real tears, she gets “When you have real tears, come talk to me.” And then she gets disgusted and storms off.)
But my mom thinks it can somehow be traced back to his dad.
I don’t know if he is a fake crier, but he is a little on the dramatic side.
I am not clear where Dash got the original idea of fake crying, but it provides SO much entertainment for us, I am glad he picked it up.
I am also glad I can fawn all over my little sad boy.
I know it just perpetuates the problem, but it is the cutest little problem this side of the Mississippi.
A recent quote from my three-year-old daughter:
“Mom, you are SO annoying!”
I was WAY more annoying when I got her in trouble for trying to be a sassy teen.
After getting in major trouble for leaving a huge mess in their room, Scout and Icka spent about twenty minutes cleaning up. At first it was slow going, but then I told them there would be random checks to see who was helping. Once they knew there would be observation on my part, they put their rears in gear. Somehow, when they want to be, they are the best workers around. But after listening for a minute, I realized that Scout took charge. He became the head honcho, and started to rule his roost. He was still working — you know, putting one toy away at a time. But no fear, he had Icka working like a dog. And to appease me, he reported to me every time he had to come out to put something in a different room. Each time it was, “Wow mom, Icka is finally working so hard”, or “Icka is working every single second” or “Mom, Icka is a ten on a scale of one thru ten.”
Then he went in to challenge her to complete a task in ten seconds, and he did the counting. And when she did it, you would hear, ” ee er ee er sen ee er sen suh….ho hay! Do you know what that means in Chinese? Good job Icka!”
Looks like we have a task master on our hands….maybe they are studying communism at school, and Scout is the self appointed dictator.
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(Truth be told, I don’t mind a little dictating towards Icka. If that what gets her motivated….so be it.)
I was taking Navy to school. Like I do with Scout, I tell her hero stories on the way. Somehow, she wrecks the experience a bit. I usually tell the story, and then Scout/Navy picks who they think the “hero” in the story is. But instead of patiently listening to the story (the whole reason I tell the stories is to display that being good is heroic), she just guesses a thousand names. I tell her to just listen up and see if she can find clues in the story. then she appoints me a hero to talk about. Anyone from Cinderella to Bella to Nephi. I usually get some sort of point across, but it isn’t quite the experience I have had with Scout these past years. Oh well. I have a boss on my hands.
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So today as I was taking her, she noticed a plastic container in my car. It was from a container of cookies the doctor gave her after my mom’s dr. appointment. It was a Costco sized thing — full. Apparently she charmed the doctor and nurses so much, they gave her the whole thing. Figures.
Anyway, as I was trying to start in on the hero story, and she noticed the empty container, she said, “Mom…did you eat all of my cookies?” I told her no. then she proceeded with:
“Are you telling a lie?”
“No.”
“Are you telling a Trick?”
“No.”
“Are you telling a joke, then?”
“No Navy, I didn’t eat them.”
Mom, are you telling me a fib?”
“No you little weasel. I got this empty container in the house with a few left for Dash — and if I remember correctly, you ate a whole lot of them yesterday.”
“Well (her latest favorite word), are you telling me a lib? A lib is not a lie. It is the truth.”
“Fine then, I am telling you the lib.”
“Ha…I tricked you….that means you DID tell a lie.”
What a little weasel.
I then dropped her off at school and told Miss Dianne — good riddance!
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