A New Era of "Isms"

Today marks a new era.  I am publishing my very first "Grahamism", and while my kids' "isms" are often best shared sans narrative, I thought this special occasion deserved a moment in the spotlight.

Cael is the alpha dog in our house, without question.  Graham gets bulldozed, but he almost doesn't seem to mind.  While Cael is action, dirt and noise, Graham is kisses and snuggles.  He does it with a twinkle in his eye, however, and the unspoken promise that he can still make life a challenge if he feels I've gotten too soft. 

The child-rearing experts always say that children will often excel in one area, especially if they seem to be a little sluggish in the others.  Graham has hit all of his milestones at the appropriate times, but his speech, while completely within a normal range, is a little slower than Cael's was at this age.  To be honest, I don't believe that he doesn't know how to say things yet, rather it seems like he isn't all that concerned with talking.  His personality is so thoughtful and introspective; it wouldn't surprise me if he's communicating telepathically with Cael or even with the dog.  Perhaps Graham is the evil mastermind behind all of the antics in our home. 

Lately, however, more words are coming out.  He mastered "Momma", "Dada" and "Papa" quite some time ago, and moved on to other important people or things in his life.  But is it common for a 22 month-old to shout exclamations like, "No way!"?  I choose to view it as a glimmer of his future brilliance.  But the best part of this most recent conquest is that he's yet to understand the appropriate context for these phrases, and I am left to decipher why my son is saying "WOW" when I ask if he has a poopy diaper.

"It's time for bed, Graham.  Let's say a prayer and have our snuggle."

"Oh, noooo!"

"You don't want to snuggle?"

"Oh, man!"

"So you DO want to snuggle?"

"No way."

"Okay, goodnight then."  (He didn't like that.  I wasn't really planning to leave him without our nightly love-fest, but he cried anyway.  Correction: he didn't just cry.  He cried like his heart was broken and I'd stomped on it.)

"Maaaamaaamaaamaa!"

"I'm right here, baby.  Do you want your snuggle now?"

"Huh."  (That means yes.)

Once in proper snuggle-stance, which is all cuddled up on the spare bed in his room, Barker in hand, we had another chance to chat.

"Did you have a good day?"

"Whoa!"

"I guess so.  What did you do today?"

"Apple."

"Yes, you ate an apple.  What else did you eat?"

"Mull."  (Milk)

"That's right!  Where do you put the milk?  In your mouth?"

"Nose!"

"No, silly, you don't put milk in your nose.  It goes in your mouth."

"Eye!"

"You're a goofball.  Where are your eyes?"  (He pointed them out correctly, and very gently in typical Graham fashion.)

"Oh noooo!"

"You don't want to play that game, huh?  It's time for bed anyway.  You have a good sleep and I will snuggle you some more tomorrow."  (This is the easiest kid to put to bed-- ever.  Lay him down; walk away.  He does the work.  Three cheers for low-maintenance children!)  "What should we do tomorrow, anyway?"

"Poo."  

"I'm sure you'll take care of that too.  I love you, Bubba!"

"Poo-poo!"

I'm going to take that as his way of expressing his undying love for me.  And I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.  Or from the other apples.  Wish me luck, friends.