Possessives & Potties

Well, he is upstairs asleep in his big boy bed having just spent the last two days in monster truck underwear. We do not have a baby anymore.

We also do not have chickens anymore. Juanita's death was confirmed this afternoon when I found her remains -- lying in a heap of feathers with feet on top -- just across from the tomato bed. Minerva Louise has gone back to live at The Coop from Whence She Came, where we thought she would be much happier amongst her old friends. A tragic end to our poultry adventure, but of course we learned a lot and do not regret the experience. Now we just have to tear down that huge coop that we built, all plush with a ceiling fan and everything. I guess there are worse things.

I cannot believe he is up there asleep in that big boy bed. Go figure. And don't even get me started on the monster truck underwear. All that credit goes to The Dad, who has worked tirelessly and successfully by using only positive reinforcement and every potty book from every library within a 10-mile radius. The Mom tends to use popsicles and other various bribes (like a bottle of "Allergy Eyes," which has become the Random Obsession of the Week).

And now back to our regularly scheduled programming: Toddler Grammar Analysis ...

Do you know how many meanings there are for the word "MINE!"? A lot, apparently. As far as I can tell, it is used to mean the following:

• I want that object to be mine.
• That is mine and you have it; give it back now.
• My boogers are my own property and I'd rather you not scrape them out of my nose with a wet washcloth.
• No.
• Yes.
• I don't want to go potty.

Possessives are the new thing around here. On certain mornings of the week, The Goose and I have this ritual where we go out for a long walk/run (him in stroller) and then come back and eat oatmeal in the yoga/playroom, sitting on an old quilt with our backs on pillows propped against the wall. It's anybody's guess who will spill their orange juice first. One day The Goose sat down in my usual spot, so I said, "Hey, that's my seat!" and started a revolution in the acquisition of possessive determiners and their application to various household objects.

First, he started saying, "My seat!" Then, he'd say, "My big seat" or "My apple juice" or whatever. Now, he's saying, "my seat Mama" to mean "Mama's seat" or "my 'poon Dada" to mean "Dad's spoon." Or any number of similar phrases.

He also likes to use other types of determiners -- demonstrative ones in particular. For example, y'all know how popular Ranger Nane is. Nane (Shane) is the one who drives the infamous mule, which often has a boat hitched to the back. So whenever we see Nane, The Goose says, "Nane. A mule. That big boat." He also says "Nane" whenever we see a jeep, because Shane's personal vehicle is a green Jeep Cherokee. He'll say, "That jeep. That jeep. That jeep" until I acknowledge that yes, indeed there is a jeep and it looks like Shane's.

In the picture just above, he and The Dad are watching Shane & Steve (The Big Boss Ranger) use a tracty with an auger to drill holes in the ground. Over and over he'd say, "Seve. A tracty. That auger." This is a child who just a couple weeks ago could not tell me he was thirsty or hungry. Now he is identifying construction equipment (with at least 80% accuracy) and requesting "eggs and tofu" for every meal.

The part where we say, "bye-bye" to various things (like tracties with augers or playgrounds with slides or what have you) is still a little rough (don't look, Mom):

But all in all, he's a swell kid. Even for an almost-two-year old.

ION ...

Work is going well for me. It's the first time I've worked full-time since before he was born, so it's a challenge. But no moreso than staying home with him. Someone once told me, "If you work, it's hard. If you stay home, it's harder." It's so true. I'm teaching four classes -- two upper-level writing courses, one intermediate literacy class, and a communication skills course. It's a full schedule but is going well so far. I have already had to give a few lectures about how not doing your homework is a waste of time and money, but for the most part, I can't complain.

That's about all I have for tonight. Next week we'll celebrate two years of The Goose. Aunty Amy, Baby Jack, and all the G'Parents are coming into town. Excitement abounds.

I'll leave you with another stock tip: Invest in monster truck underwear. I have already thrown away several pair and the ones we have left have been washed so many times that they're stretched out and falling apart. I have a new philosophical question to pose for our environmentalist readership: What's worse? Filling up landfills with disposable diapers or wasting water to wash out underwear?

Tah-tah.