Typical Conversation

K, drying off Alex after shower, finds him cranky. So he wraps him like a monk in the towel and starts singing Monty Python: "pie jesu domine, pie deus requiem...[bonk]".
Alana asks, "what's that?"
Keith, distracted: "Latin."
"What's Latin?"
"A language spoken by the Romans."
"Who were they?"
"They had a big empire."
"Whats a vampire?"
"An EMpire is a bunch of countries that are run from a single place. This was run by a ruler called a Caeser."
"Oh. And he talked liiike thaaat?" (she says, in a creditable Pythonesque drone, albeit 2 octaves higher)
"Well, I don't know what he sounded like, but he spoke that language. Then the Catholic church adopted it."
"Why didn't they like it?"
"Hunh? They did like it. Oh, to adopt means to start using. They liked it because lots of people could understand their services if they used that language."
"Oh." Blank expression, wheels clearly turning. Then she got distracted, but I'll be interested to see where that turns up next .

Distinguishing...

K - "That's the distinguisher...how we tell the difference."
Alana - "but that's not a container with foam in it."
K- "Huh?"
Alana - "A distinguisher. To put out fires."
K- "Oh! Extinguisher. No, to distinguish means to tell the difference. To 'Extinguish' is to put out a fire." (we had recently talked about fire extiguishers and looked at our kitchen extinguisher)

Phonetic Learning and Little Parrots

"Just use the moat control".
"Oh, that's what that cartilage is" (referring to a printer cartridge)
"Fancy that!"
"His name is Meet Diego."
"Can we go cantelope-watching some time?" (after we talked with her about antelope browsing near Antelope Canyon)
"Geez Louise!" (a common phrase around our house...strong words from AC!)

Music With the Kids

Alana sings all the time (both her parents do, too, so she doesn't find it at all odd). She knows a bunch of the bass lines that AC sings in her chorus, from hearing Mommy practicing at home. She knows "Over the Rainbow" pretty well, and more typical kids' songs, too.

We sing whatever songs we can come up with that incorporate the kids' names, and then the kids pick them up, too. Alana first learned to spell her name because we sang B-I-N-G-O with new lyrics about a little girl named A-L-A-N-A.

At the moment, Alana is pretty frequently singing the Alleluia Chorus, because she hears us singing it with her brother (substitute "Alexander" for "Alleluia" and you'll get the idea). Her original version was pronounced "all-a-you-uh", but she's getting the alleluias now.

Alexander, at 18 months, was humming tunes quite clearly (twinkle, twinkle in particular). He'll also drum on anything we drum on (most kids do, but he's *into* it!) If we leave the basement door open, he makes a beeline downstairs for the drumset. He loves to play with it. Piano and guitar also fascinate him...I'm sure music will be a big part of his life.

My Possibility

I came home the other day, and Alana happily said to me: “Daddy, I did my possibility!”
"Your possibility? I don't understand."
"You know, my possibility! I made my bed!"
"Ohhh. Your responsibility!"

Cuz I'm a Blonde

Alana was walking around singing the refrain from "Cuz I'm a blonde--yeah YEAAHH yeah". Finally we asked her to stop, because it was getting really old. Keith said "You're really more of a brunette, not a blonde." Then we asked if any of the kids in her class were blonde. "Isn't Isabelle blonde?" "No." "I thought she has yellow hair." "She does, but she's not blonde." "Uh, yes she is. Blonde means you have yellow hair." She pondered. "I thought blonde was when your eyes don't work."

Distractable

AC, frustrated: "Alana, you are so distractable".
Alana, calmly: "Yes, just like my Daddy."

Not There Yet

After finally swapping Alana over to underpants exclusively, and subsequently doing a lot of laundry after she consistently woke up wet, we've moved back to training pants for her at night.

Halloween

We went Trick-or-Treating with some friends (Alana was a princess, Alexander was her prince). AC made the costumes: for Alexander, an inherited tux with gold ribbon down the pants, gold fringe on the shoulders, a turned-up collar, a tinfoil-covered BK crown, and a red sash to match his sister worked great. For Alana: a beautiful white flower-girl dress, tights, and shoes; a red satin ribbon around her waist; a sparkly pink cape and wand; and a satiny red conical hat with a chin strap and a streamer of pink material from the cape.

Keith was the carriage for Prince Alexander when he was too slow to keep up with the older kids. Both kids managed to do a good job saying "Thank you" all night. I spent most of the time bringing Alexander up from the rear, by which point the older kids had collected their candy and were ready to head for the next house. Toward the end of our evening, I realized that Alana was engaging in conversation with each candy provider. I thought nothing of it, until I saw one woman leave her husband at the door, go inside, and come back with some alternate selections. I pushed forward to see what was being said.

Apparently, at each house, it had gone something like this:

"Can you tell me what this candy is like? I don't really like chocolate, unless it has peanut butter. Then it's my favorite. Do you have any like that? That's my Daddy's favorite, too. I'm getting some candy for me and some for him. My brother likes everything."

Mortifying...and yet, Reese's Peanut Butter Cups really are my favorites, and Alana did manage to get them more than anything else. We did have a little discussion about how nice all these people were to be giving away candy and that it was our job to take what we get and be thankful for it, but I'm not sure it made much impact.

Meanwhile, at each house, Alexander would wait until offered candy, and then he would drop the piece he'd taken at the prior house into his bucket, take the new piece, say "ankou" when prompted, and take up the new piece.

Test of Wills

My parents tell me a story of when I was a young kid:

I was misbehaving, and my father told me to behave. To express my displeasure, I got down on hands and knees and banged my head on the floor (gently). My father gave me a little swat on the bum, and told me not to do that.

I banged my head a little harder. He swatted a little harder.

The escalation continued until I'd had enough, at which point I WHACKED my head against the floor, stood up and looked at him, then turned and walked away. Guess I showed him!

Well, Alexander shows a similar stubborn streak. He started screaming angrily about something the other day (with a murderous look in his eye), and I'd had enough. We *never* give him what he wants when he's screaming, so you'd think he'd already have learned that it's a waste of effort, but I think part of it is an outlet for his frustration at his inability to explain what he wants...not that that's a good enough reason for a tantrum.

I took him to the corner, and explained that when he was ready to talk I would let him go and we could leave the corner. 40 minutes later, after struggling with me THE ENTIRE TIME, he literally was so exhausted that he passed out in my arms. Several times during the episode, I asked him if he could stop crying. He would say "mm-hmm" and immediately stop crying (like a switch had been thrown). When I then asked him if he was ready to talk so we could leave the corner, he started screaming again. He knows I'm serious when I tell him behavior is unacceptable, and I know he'll learn that this doesn't work. That day cannot come soon enough!