This is a boy who runs wherever he goes. And why not? It's faster than walking.
This is a boy who occasionally says hello to his body parts. "Hi foot!" "Hi penis!"
This is a boy who sings all the time. He is particularly drawn to the tune of "Twinkle Twinkle"/"ABC"/"Baa Baa Blacksheep" (which, in case you haven't thought about it, are all the same song). He's been riffing on this tune a lot recently, using whatever syllables he has handy at the moment ("Do do do do do do do..."), and I've definitely heard him combine the melody with another song, which I like to think is his version of jazz.
Recently overheard:
NOAH
(sung to the tune of Barney's
"I Love You, You Love Me")
I'm all done,
You love me,
We're a shabby shabby shab.
This is a boy who is fiercely independent-minded. He is always telling us, "No, I do it! I do it!"
This refrain was heard a lot yesterday at the mall with Grandma Toby as Noah insisted on pushing his own stroller, driving like a drunk teenager who forgot to wear his contacts. The highlight for me was when he careened through JC Penney, screaming "I go to elevator! I go to elevator!"
This is a boy who is the organizer and the dictator. He lines up his toy cars in a neat row and requests that lights be turned on or off, doors be shut, and windows be opened. Sometimes he will make requests of us: "Eat it please," "Mommy, put your glasses on," etc.
This is a boy who is sometimes a self-disciplinarian. He will often repeat our scoldings to himself, often as he is tempted to break a rule (or in the act of breaking it). "Noah, no! No throwing toys!", "No feet on the table", "Black pen is not for walking around", etc.
This is a boy who has been using the phrase "Whatcha' doin'?" a lot lately.
A recent conversation with our cat:
NOAH
Scottie, whatcha' doin?
SCOTTIE
...
DADDY
Yeah, Noah. What is Scottie doing?
NOAH
Watching Noah.
This is a boy who sees the garbage can across the street and says:
NOAH
Garbage can fall down.
(to the garbage can)
Garbage can, garbage, can. You okay?
Garbage can, you okay?
This is a boy who runs into a room and announces, "I'm back!"
This is a boy who now shows us his Duplo blocks and says, "Look what I made!"
From a recent video chat with Aunt Shari and Uncle Gary (Noah was rolling around on the floor with Daddy's foam roller):
NOAH
Shari! Gary! I stretching!
Noah knows how to stretch, and he must be doing yoga at school because he was showing us some pretty interesting poses today.
We've been reading Noah the book I made for him (see previous post) so that he understands what is happening with my foot. We've been very pleased with how well he seems to grasp the situation, and he's been relatively cooperative so far. He has been good about not playing with my knee walker or crutches—although he is a fan of both. On occasion, I let him push me around in the knee walker which is lots of fun for both of us.
Yesterday, I found him in his bedroom, looking at the "Daddy Hurt His Foot" book. When I entered, he asked me:
NOAH
Daddy's foot feels better?
DADDY
No, Noah. It's still going to be a long
time before Daddy's foot feels better.
(In response to this, Noah begins running in circles.)
NOAH
I go around and around.
DADDY
You are going around and around.
Be careful not to crash.
NOAH
(crashing)
I crash.
The real thrill for us is that, for the last month or two, we have been having full-on conversations with our little guy. He is speaking in full sentences, sometimes quite long sentences (example: after my post-surgery icing machine was sent back, he asks, "Where is the machine for making Daddy's foot to feel better?" I get particularly proud when he drops prepositional phrases like it ain't no thang.)
This is a boy who is asking lots of questions. Sometimes, the same question many times. Last week, he spent the whole morning asking, "Why is the garbage truck so loud?"
Two days ago, when we heard police sirens nearby, the question was simply, "What is that?" Over and over and over again.
I'll end on my favorite Noah moment of the last couple weeks. We were in a restaurant with Grandma and Grandpa, and we had just finished up a terrific meal. Noah had been his usual well-behaved self, and he was standing on top of his high chair as we wiped his dirty hands. Suddenly, out the window in front of him, a firetruck passed with flashing lights and a siren.
Noah might as well have been struck by lightning. He screamed at the top of his lungs, as loud as he is physically capable of yelling:
"FIRETRUCK!!!! FIRETRUCK! FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRETRUUUUCK!!!!!!"
The whole restaurant fell quiet. We were unable to contain our laughter. We left soon after.
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| Moments later. |
If only I could bottle his enthusiasm. God, I love this kid!
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| Noah and I water the roses together (a few weeks before my surgery)
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