Recently I’ve written about the secret, or now not so secret, language we speak in our family. And I’ve also noticed the stream of new family vocabulary generation beginning to diminish. It’s clear mainstream English is wedging out toddlerease as Nate confidently peppers his conversations with his plans to “destroy” things and Jake is able to clearly articulate the failings of racism. In full transparency, these conversations on racism have come up as we read one of my childhood favorites, The Indian in the Cover… as Nate calls it.
Both boys still say “drawl” instead of “draw” and “sawl” instead of “saw.” I noticed a long-distance friends’ son says the same thing, so I’m chalkimg this up to a quirk of child development and not that they’ve fallen in with the wrong crowd of yokels.
The good news is that Nate still calls spaghetti, “skabetty.” May this post be a warning to anyone that corrects him! And yes, he still has me feel his elbows to see how strong his muscles are getting. The bad news is… well, there’s a lead-up to the bad news…
Almost eight weeks ago, Nate and Jake had a sleepover at Grandma and Granddad’s house. I think it was the last sleepover of the summer, before school started. Natesy took his favorite green “baybit” and unfortunately, forgot it. Weeks go by and he wonders where it is and we finally figure out it’s lost at Grandma’s. During this time, I’m careful not to read our copy of Happiness is a Warm Blanket Charlie Brown.
So I call home today for my brief mid-day husband check-in. James says that he had the boys in the car and the return of Nate’s baybit comes up in conversation. And Nate declares, “I do NOT call it my baybit. I call it my blanket.”
What’s that sound? Oh nothing… just the sound of my heart breaking that’s all. At least I still have skabetty and elbows.
