We went to the zoo.
These are the players.
This is who we went to see.
This was what the sign on the door said.
This is what she did.
Apparently, I forgot that toddlers can’t read.
Category: toddlerisms
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A Toddler, a Hat, and a House of Birds
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Mama Foofed!
My daughter, Bear, had quite a vocabulary by 17 months of age. At 17 1/2 months, she was trying to put two words together, but they were often separated by a very large pause as she tried to connect the two ideas in her head.
One evening a few weeks ago, I took Bear upstairs to put her to bed. I decided that it would be best to go to the bathroom before getting stuck under a baby for the next hour or so. I happened to, well, um, pass some gas, which my family has given the endearing term “foofing.” It wasn’t a remarkable foof (rhymes with hoof) or anything – just your average, every day, run of the mill foof.
Bear giggled. “Foof!” she exclaimed. And she laughed some more. “Mama!”
“Yes, honey, Mama foofed. Excuse me.”
“Foof… … … Mama… … … Mama… … … Foof… … … Foof… … … Mama… … … Foof.”
“Yes, Bear, Mama foofed.”
“Mama… Foof. Foof. Foof. Mama… Foof.”
“I know, love. Mama foofed.”
“Mama foof!”
Her first true sentence.
“Mama foof! Mama foof! Mama foof!”
“Yeah, I know. Mama foofed. That’s enough now. Time for bed.”
I brought her into the bedroom and began nursing her down for the night. She got drowsy and I thought that she was nearing sleep. All of a sudden, she popped off, sat up, and yelled, “MAMA FOOF!”She was so proud.
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Note: Since that day, Bear has made sure to report everyone’s foofs – mine, her Papa’s, Monkey’s, and even her own. No one can escape. And it is now impossible to blame your foof on the baby. Perhaps we should reconsider getting a dog…
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Peeing in the Tub
I always make Monkey go potty before he gets into the bathtub. Usually, he complies. Sometimes, he goes and then once he sits in the water, he looks suspicious – as if he hadn’t completely finished emptying his bladder yet.
Monkey and Bear often bathe together (at what point does that become weird?). I have asked Monkey repeatedly to not pee in the tub, especially if his sister is in there with him. Now, of course, I can guarantee that his sister pees in the tub almost every time, but he doesn’t need to know that.
After a very messy finger and toe painting experience, I plunked both of them in the bath. He promised me that he didn’t need to pee. I made sure that I asked him before I put the drain cap on. We got all the paint off with the shower sprayer first and then I filled up the tub.
The kids had fun playing in the bath, as usual. Suddenly, he gave me the look. I gave him the “Don’t you dare do it” look that all moms eventually perfect. He went back to playing and presumably holding it in. A few minutes later, Bear decided she was done with her bath. “Mama? Now that she’s out, can I pee in the bath?” Then, this is what happened.
Me: Why don’t you hop out and pee in the potty.
Monkey: I don’t think I can do that.
Me: Did you already go?
Monkey: A little… can I?
Me: If you must.
Monkey: I must.
I turned away to get Bear all wrapped up in her towel, so I wasn’t concentrating on what Monkey was doing. Suddenly, he began to shout, “Mama! Quick! I need a towel!”
Me: What’s wrong? Did you splash water on your face again?
Monkey: No! I just peed in my eye!
Me: WHAT? You peed in your eye?
Monkey: I peed in my eye! Give me a towel!
Me (unwrapping Bear from her towel and tossing it over): How in the world did you pee in your eye?
Monkey: I don’t know, but it kind of hurt. Let’s just let the water go down and I’ll just pee down the drain instead.
Told you peeing in the bath wasn’t a good idea.
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If you liked this, you may also like:
Yes, I Used My Son’s Potty: Potty Mouth:
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The sky’s the limit, kid.
The doorbell rang. Dinner had arrived.
Monkey ran to the door with his new Hess helicopter in one hand and an airplane in the other. “Mama? Can I show him my new helicopter?!”
The delivery guy looked in and said, “Ooh, nice helicopter and plane!” as Monkey zoomed them around.
“Thanks!” said Monkey, beaming.
“Do you want to be a pilot some day?” asked the delivery guy, thinking he had asked the appropriate question given what he was observing.Monkey turned on him. His eyes glowed red and it was only a matter of time before the lasers began shooting out.
Then, in a “There is no Monkey, only Zuul” type voice, he shouted, “I DO NOT WANT TO BE A
PILOT! I WANT TO WORK AT IKEA!”
The delivery guy chuckled, but all I could think about was …
Mmm… free Swedish meatballs…
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If My Kid Could Vote for President…
Mama: They’re talking about voting. Soon, we get to vote to see who is our president for the next four years.
Monkey (3.5 years old): I want to vote too.
Mama: That’s wonderful! Unfortunately, you have to be 18 to vote, but you can help me when I vote!
Monkey: No! My own vote! I want to vote for MY president.
Mama: And rightly so, but you’ll have to do it with me this year. Who would you like to vote for?
Monkey: The other guy.
Mama: Well, which guy do you mean? The one who is already president or the one running against him?
Monkey: Hmmm… Who are you voting for?
Mama: Well, I’m voting for the person with whom I agree more and who I think has good ideas.
Monkey: Why? Is the other guy a bad guy?
Mama: [long pause] No, not a bad guy… just has different ideas that go against some of the things I believe in. Do you want me to show you pictures of the two guys?
Monkey: Okay.
Mama: Okay. Here’s Mitt Romney. And here’s Barack Obama – he’s president now and Mitt Romney wants to be president. They both want the same job, but only one guy can have it.
Monkey: Was Mitt Romney the president before Barack Obama?
Mama: No, a man named George W. Bush was.
Monkey: Was he a bad man?
Mama: Um… here, let me show you a picture of him. But he can’t be president again so we have to choose between Barack Obama and Mitt Romney this time.
Monkey: Oh, okay.
Mama: So, do you want to ask me any questions about them or do you know who you’re going to vote for?
Monkey: I know who I want to vote for.
Mama: Who?
Monkey: Pizza.
Mama: Pizza?
Monkey: Pizza.
Mama: You want pizza to be our president?
Monkey: Yep. I think that’s the best choice.
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They MIGHT Be Giants
I had this conversation with my toddler a while back:
Me: [singing] Blue canary in the outlet by the light switch / Who watches over you / Make a little birdhouse in your soul…
Him: Mama? Who’s singing this song?
Me: It’s a group called They Might Be Giants. The two main guys are named John and John. Isn’t that silly that they are both named John? Mama really likes their music. Your ABCs, 123s, and Science CDs are all by them too.
Him: Mama… are they really giants?
Me: No, honey. Mama has seen them in concert and they are regular sized… not giants.
Him: But, they might be!
Who could argue with that?
