And I Just Can't Hide It
It was a similar setting at our dinner table. All are eating, except Ellie, who loves to get down from her seat after two bites of her meal. This always drive us crazy since she usually spends the entire half an hour prior to dinner with demands for food because she is "really hungry."
Ellie also plays this game with us, droning on that she has to poop. Since she is a poop-hoarder, we always oblige her request, until recently. She never goes when we let her get down to wander the living room, so we have been making her sit with us at the table, and try to make her stomach a few more bites dinner until we are finished.
On this night, it was the same thing; constant requests for food, get served, eat two things, then decide it is time to lolly-gag around. I made her sit at the table, after several pleases and threats. Then we somehow got on the subject of Disneyland.
Emma had acquired a Disneyland brochure which both of the girls had embedded into their memories. Ellie is in love with the little cars from Autotopia.
As soon as we touched the Disneyland subject, the teary-eyed two-year old flooded us with crazy, almost undecipherable jabber about what she wants to ride on when she gets to "The Happiest Place on Earth."
"Eddy loves da tars. Yeah, da yeddow one is Eddy's tar. Daddy sit in da back. Eddy drive da yeddow one. It is soooo edciting!" she rambled and ended with her cheek resting on her shoulder and her hands clasped in front of her, resembling a Betty Boop pose.
We erupted in laughter while she continued, adding more emphasis on how "edciting" it will be, "Eddy drive da yeddow with Daddy in da back. It is soooooo edciting!" as she clapped her hands with elated anticipation.
"That's great, honey, now eat your apples."
5.29.2006
5.23.2006
And a World of Fears
"You know, Kadra's dad grew up in this town, Emma." I mentioned to my 5 year old as we drove into downtown. We were visiting my parents in Woodland Park. Emma was sitting in the back seat of the car, seemingly engrossed with her grocery list she had been duplicating from the one my wife had given me.
She murmured a response, as if I was distracting her train of thought.
"Yep, it sure is a small world. Isn't it?" I continued.
It was as if I had snapped her out of a trance, but instead of clucking like a chicken, she became Socrates.
"You know, it really is a small world," she began. "We think it is a big world, but us humans, we are just animals."
Even if I had some sort of response, I would not of been able to get a word into her run-on philosophical declaration.
"And humans have to just kill some animals because we don't like them. Humans are just animals. Other animals think their world is small, but it is really big. We know it is big. They just think it is small. And we have to just kill some animals, and they just don't know." The rambling was much longer than this, and I know I am losing a great deal of the detail, just a few days after it happening, however, it was very profound. Vague enough to insinuate countless meanings, but deep enough to blatantly state a specific argument. She made me so proud.
I believe that our discussions of the food chain, predators, carnivores, who eats who, and the like instigated this flood of thought from my sweet little girl. Of course, maybe the thought of the song, "It's a Small World" might subconsciously stir aggressive behavior of even the very young.
"You know, Kadra's dad grew up in this town, Emma." I mentioned to my 5 year old as we drove into downtown. We were visiting my parents in Woodland Park. Emma was sitting in the back seat of the car, seemingly engrossed with her grocery list she had been duplicating from the one my wife had given me.
She murmured a response, as if I was distracting her train of thought.
"Yep, it sure is a small world. Isn't it?" I continued.
It was as if I had snapped her out of a trance, but instead of clucking like a chicken, she became Socrates.
"You know, it really is a small world," she began. "We think it is a big world, but us humans, we are just animals."
Even if I had some sort of response, I would not of been able to get a word into her run-on philosophical declaration.
"And humans have to just kill some animals because we don't like them. Humans are just animals. Other animals think their world is small, but it is really big. We know it is big. They just think it is small. And we have to just kill some animals, and they just don't know." The rambling was much longer than this, and I know I am losing a great deal of the detail, just a few days after it happening, however, it was very profound. Vague enough to insinuate countless meanings, but deep enough to blatantly state a specific argument. She made me so proud.
I believe that our discussions of the food chain, predators, carnivores, who eats who, and the like instigated this flood of thought from my sweet little girl. Of course, maybe the thought of the song, "It's a Small World" might subconsciously stir aggressive behavior of even the very young.
Ridin' along in this big ol' jet plane, I've been thinkin' about my home
Our flight landed in Phoenix. We were in row 18 out of 25. At 6 seats per row, we knew right off that it was going to take awhile before we would be able to exit the plane.
The girls had both been really good, but we were nearing the last leg of a long day trip, and we still had at least two hours on the road to get to our house. We were fearing the furnace-like blast of hot air that accompanies most passengers when arriving Sky Harbor Airport. The heat always brings out the best in all of us. The anxiety was beginning to ferment deep inside my chest.
Ellie smiled at me and was dancing to the hip-hop music that mysteriously seeped from the overhead speakers as we waited. I held my breathe.
Row by row, overhead storage bins slowly emptied as the temperature slowly rose. Truthfully, it could of been my imagination fueled with anticipation to get home. Abbie asked me if I could carry Ellie out. I agreed, and was happy to see the two seats in front of us clear out.
I reached down and raised Ellie up into my arms. I grunted. She immediately began loudly chatting to me with a twinkle of laughter burning in her smile, "Daddy farted!" she hollered.
The remaining passengers fell silent in anticipation for an encore of toilet talk from my two-year old as she quickly restated her previous two words. This time it was delivered as a question, that she immediately answered for me, "Daddy farted? Nooooo, Daddy NO farted!"
She ran on, "Ellie farted? Noooo, Ellie NO farted too!"
The airplane audience erupted in laughter as she basked in her comedic glory. She paused one moment, a pregnant pause of sorts before she peeked over my shoulder to see the entertained crowd.
Our flight landed in Phoenix. We were in row 18 out of 25. At 6 seats per row, we knew right off that it was going to take awhile before we would be able to exit the plane.
The girls had both been really good, but we were nearing the last leg of a long day trip, and we still had at least two hours on the road to get to our house. We were fearing the furnace-like blast of hot air that accompanies most passengers when arriving Sky Harbor Airport. The heat always brings out the best in all of us. The anxiety was beginning to ferment deep inside my chest.
Ellie smiled at me and was dancing to the hip-hop music that mysteriously seeped from the overhead speakers as we waited. I held my breathe.
Row by row, overhead storage bins slowly emptied as the temperature slowly rose. Truthfully, it could of been my imagination fueled with anticipation to get home. Abbie asked me if I could carry Ellie out. I agreed, and was happy to see the two seats in front of us clear out.
I reached down and raised Ellie up into my arms. I grunted. She immediately began loudly chatting to me with a twinkle of laughter burning in her smile, "Daddy farted!" she hollered.
The remaining passengers fell silent in anticipation for an encore of toilet talk from my two-year old as she quickly restated her previous two words. This time it was delivered as a question, that she immediately answered for me, "Daddy farted? Nooooo, Daddy NO farted!"
She ran on, "Ellie farted? Noooo, Ellie NO farted too!"
The airplane audience erupted in laughter as she basked in her comedic glory. She paused one moment, a pregnant pause of sorts before she peeked over my shoulder to see the entertained crowd.
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