Hot chocolate style
The Nugget came sliding into the family room on this turtle, struck a pose and stated cooly, "Hot chocolate style."
The Nugget got to read to a therapy dog at a local library this weekend. Earlier that morning, he muttered, "Gotta find the perfect book," and scampered upstairs. He emerged triumphantly a half hour later, clutching, Dog Parade. With a big grin on his face, he announced, "The dog will really love this one!" When the time came, the Nugget got so nervous, he said his stomach hurt and his voice went down to a whisper. But his dimples came right out when he got to pet Chance the therapy dog, who very happily and calmly listened to Dog Parade.
The Nugget's flair for the dramatic only grows as he does. This weekend, he suddenly started shrieking hysterically, "Ouch! I'm bleeding, I'm bleeding! I can taste the blood!" I calmly responded, "Let me see where you're bleeding." He perked up considerably and chirped, "Oh! Am I really bleeding?"
And after all this, the other night, the Nugget asked, "Mommy, am I interesting? I just really want to be interesting." I don't think this kid has to worry about THAT!
Tater always tags along with me to Spork's speech therapy sessions at the preschool. He only gets a 30 minute session, which is just enough time for Tater to eat her breakfast, read a few books, make a leisurely trip to "the little potties", and get her coat back on before Spork comes bursting out of the teacher's lounge bearing his newest masterpiece dripping with glue! After many questions and conversations with Miss K and me, Tater finally understands that the point of it is is to help Spork learn how to talk. Because she is fluent in Sporkish, she probably still doesn't get why we just don't all become bilingual, but she accepts the plan. Anyway, yesterday, Spork and Tater were having yet another nonsensical conversation in the car about going to a fair, and Spork correctly blurted out something about a carousel. Immediately, Tater squealed and praised him, "You said carousel, Spork! You really said it! Yay for you! Mommy, Spork said carousel!" Spork has indeed made great progress, but speech therapy will continue for at least another academic year, for which we are incredibly thankful.
An updated Sporkish to English guide
Crackberry....blackberry
Huskers....walrus tusks
Badabada....bulldozer
Pie-ya...please may I have a
When Spork was in the throes of a meltdown, I attempted to change the subject with silliness. I asked him, "Where are your huskers?!" He snapped to attention that I used one of his words and immediately started giggling. I got really into it, checking his pockets and under the couch, then threw my hands up and said, "Oh no, you must have left them at the zoo!" Tater was giggling hysterically at this point, so I handed her a toy phone and jokingly asked her to call the zoo and check. She chirped into the phone, "Hello, zoo? You got Spork's huskers? Ok, bye!"
Tater has very little fear, but one thing she does dread is the chimpanzee at the zoo. For some reason, the chimp has twice now run right up to her and smacked on the window when she comes to see it. It has been months since her last encounter, but she talks about 'panzees every day. "Do 'panzees bite? What do 'panzees eat? Baby 'panzees wear diapers? Baby 'panzees use binkies?" And when we do go to the zoo, she insists on trying to see them. It is fascinating to see the way little Tater deals with her fears head on.
The Nugget got to read to a therapy dog at a local library this weekend. Earlier that morning, he muttered, "Gotta find the perfect book," and scampered upstairs. He emerged triumphantly a half hour later, clutching, Dog Parade. With a big grin on his face, he announced, "The dog will really love this one!" When the time came, the Nugget got so nervous, he said his stomach hurt and his voice went down to a whisper. But his dimples came right out when he got to pet Chance the therapy dog, who very happily and calmly listened to Dog Parade.
The Nugget's flair for the dramatic only grows as he does. This weekend, he suddenly started shrieking hysterically, "Ouch! I'm bleeding, I'm bleeding! I can taste the blood!" I calmly responded, "Let me see where you're bleeding." He perked up considerably and chirped, "Oh! Am I really bleeding?"
And after all this, the other night, the Nugget asked, "Mommy, am I interesting? I just really want to be interesting." I don't think this kid has to worry about THAT!
Tater always tags along with me to Spork's speech therapy sessions at the preschool. He only gets a 30 minute session, which is just enough time for Tater to eat her breakfast, read a few books, make a leisurely trip to "the little potties", and get her coat back on before Spork comes bursting out of the teacher's lounge bearing his newest masterpiece dripping with glue! After many questions and conversations with Miss K and me, Tater finally understands that the point of it is is to help Spork learn how to talk. Because she is fluent in Sporkish, she probably still doesn't get why we just don't all become bilingual, but she accepts the plan. Anyway, yesterday, Spork and Tater were having yet another nonsensical conversation in the car about going to a fair, and Spork correctly blurted out something about a carousel. Immediately, Tater squealed and praised him, "You said carousel, Spork! You really said it! Yay for you! Mommy, Spork said carousel!" Spork has indeed made great progress, but speech therapy will continue for at least another academic year, for which we are incredibly thankful.
An updated Sporkish to English guide
Crackberry....blackberry
Huskers....walrus tusks
Badabada....bulldozer
Pie-ya...please may I have a
When Spork was in the throes of a meltdown, I attempted to change the subject with silliness. I asked him, "Where are your huskers?!" He snapped to attention that I used one of his words and immediately started giggling. I got really into it, checking his pockets and under the couch, then threw my hands up and said, "Oh no, you must have left them at the zoo!" Tater was giggling hysterically at this point, so I handed her a toy phone and jokingly asked her to call the zoo and check. She chirped into the phone, "Hello, zoo? You got Spork's huskers? Ok, bye!"
Tater has very little fear, but one thing she does dread is the chimpanzee at the zoo. For some reason, the chimp has twice now run right up to her and smacked on the window when she comes to see it. It has been months since her last encounter, but she talks about 'panzees every day. "Do 'panzees bite? What do 'panzees eat? Baby 'panzees wear diapers? Baby 'panzees use binkies?" And when we do go to the zoo, she insists on trying to see them. It is fascinating to see the way little Tater deals with her fears head on.
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