Liam can now:

* Turn around and back carefully off of things he has climbed Up on (including stairs).
* Play peekaboo by pulling curtains and such in front of his face and then popping out with a huge grin.
* Give zerbers.

* * *

Mommy: “Ngaire, say, ‘To be or not to be.’”
Ngaire: “To be. I want to share my [i.e. Daddy's] coffee.
Daddy: “‘Or not to be.’”
Ngaire: “I want to be.”

Ngaire at breakfast the other day, covered with crumbs: “I’m all done and I need a cloth to wipe my hands because I am crumbled.”

* * *

Liam has discovered his tongue, in the pinching-between-thumb-and-forefinger sense, not in the verbal sense.

* * *

This morning, Liam picked up a spoon and cup measure Ngaire had been playing with, and instead of ripping them out of his hands, she went and got others for him, offered them to him (“Here you go, Liam!”), and then sat on the floor and banged the cups with the spoons with him.

* * *

I’ve decided it’s about time I started reading some Real Literature again, and have been reading Hemingway of late (The Sun Also Rises and A Farewell to Arms). Boy, I forgot how much I enjoy Hemingway … I mean, sure he’s a tad grim, but also very wry and insightful. I find his plain prose restful. I also read Graham Greene’s The Quiet American and enjoyed it very much. I started re-reading A Clockwork Orange but found myself mainly skimming it for old favorite sections, so I’ve decided to move on for now and approach it again some other time. Next up: Things Fall Apart and Watership Down. Yes, I’m approaching the Classics section at the library alphabetically; why do you ask?

In other cultural news, the Husbandlet and I made our annual pilgrimage to the Shakespeare Theatre Company’s Free for All to see a teenage-angst version of Hamlet, and then paid actual money to see Antony and Cleopatra, which I had never seen before and which was good in the sense of being Shakespeare I had never seen before but not so much in terms of the actual performance, which was bland. Ah well. We are planning a Shakespeare, red wine, chocolate and cheese evening with some friends … who says a liberal arts education is for naught?

* * *

Speaking of which, I was talking with my friend Jessica today about our husbands. Her husband Adrian is quite a bit like the Husbandlet, if more of a law geek than a science geek. Anyway.

Me: “They’re like two peas in a pod.”
Jessica: “They’re like two pens in a pocket protector.”

Yesterday, when Daddy came home from work: “Did I want this kiss?”

This morning, also to Daddy: “Would you have this hug?”

We have taught her that a dragon goes “rawr” and a butterfly whispers (per Dr. Seuss). A couple mornings back, she started talking about a butterdragon … she gets this from the WonderPets, who had an episode about a griffin and then followed it up with one about a pangaroo (part parrot, part kangaroo). We asked what such a beastie would say, and she whispered, “Rawr.”

Last week, Liam learned to clap. He is totally impressed with himself and breaks into delighted cackles every time he brings his little hands together. I always cheer him on, so on Friday as he was clapping, he also said, “Yay!”

Also last week, he started blowing little raspberries whenever I give him zerbers.

Ngaire’s first word was “Daddy,” so I’m finding it interesting, gender-proclivities-wise, that our little boy’s first discernable language attempts (aside from the “Mamamamama” when he wants food or cuddles) are noises rather than words, per se.

* * *
EDITED TO ADD:

While my friend was feeding Liam his lunch today, I left the room briefly … just long enough to miss Liam saying, “Mommy?” while looking around for me.

He also babbled “Baby,” which he has been saying a lot with no evident connection to actual babies, right after we had been talking about the little sproglets.

One husbandlet in Florida doing field work? Check.

Two kidlets with diarrhea? Also check.

On a side note, Ngaire was just trying to feed Liam bites of PlayDoh on the end of a block, so I substituted yogurt, and they both had a lot of fun as she attempted to get it into his mouth.

Ngaire’s and my conversation has been much influenced by this book, wherein the sentence structure goes basically like this:

It was a pretty day,
pretty day,
pretty day. (etc. ad nauseum)

So, the other day, I was getting Liam ready for a nap and chatting to Ngaire, who likes to sit next to me, “resting” me, as she calls it (stroking my back and/or knee, whichever is next to her). Please note that the following is real-time commentary on what was occurring.

Me: I’m giving Liam milk,
Ngaire: Liam milk,
Me: Liam milk. I’m putting him in bed,
Ngaire: him in bed,
Me: him in bed.
…
Ngaire: Liam cried, Liam cried, Liam cried.

On an unrelated note, this morning I decided to live a little and shut the bathroom door. First Liam’s little fingers appeared under it, then Ngaire rattled the doorknob wildly, but they both went away after a bit. However, when I came out, Ngaire decided to have a little bathroom time herself and let herself in, with the light off, as it happened. Liam, perhaps thinking I was still in there, went back to the door and asked to be let in. And Ngaire let him in. When I went to check out the squawks, there they were in the dark together.

Ngaire jammed her red squeaky dinosaur down the front of her shorts and started hopping around the room like a kangaroo.

Me: OK, dinner’s ready! Ngaire, run to your high chair!

Ngaire: I need some food! I want to eat!

The Husbandlet: Wonderful, because we’ve got food for you. Would you like some [insert main dish of evening]?

Ngaire: I want no! I want no [main dish]!

Liam: Squawk! (Translation: I’d like some dinner, too, please!)

Me: Sweetheart, this is what is for dinner.

Ngaire: I want NO THANK YOU [main dish] and I want STRAWBERRIES!

Liam: Squawk! (Translation: A few Cheerios would go down quite nicely, thank you.)

The Husbandlet: Ngaire, if you eat all your dinner, you may have some strawberries.

Me: Here, have a bite.

Ngaire: (Scrunches up her eyes and mouth.)

Liam: Squawk! (Translation: Sweet potatoes with peas? Ooh, lovely.)

The Husbandlet: Ngaire, open up and take a bite.

Ngaire: I want some ice cream.

The Husbandlet: Only if you eat all your food.

Ngaire: (Writhes and flails.)

Liam: Squawk! (I seem to recall there might be some of that delicious applesauce around …)

Me: Ngaire! Behave!

Ngaire: (Totally unaffected by my eloquent plea.)

Liam: Squawk. (Or perhaps the merest taste of yogurt?)

Ngaire, the Husbandlet, and me: (A battle of will ensues that ends with Ngaire eating Three Bites.)

Ngaire: I want All Done.

Liam: Squawk? (Translation: Can I have her leftovers?)

Yesterday, Liam hummed the first two measures of Beethoven’s Fifth.

I wouldn’t have believed my own ears, but the Husbandlet heard it, too, and can confirm my story. Incidentally, he’s the one who apparently taught it to Liam, by chirping it as part of a story about some crickets that he was reading to Ngaire.

As a side note, poor Liam seems to have coxsackie virus … fortunately, we weren’t planning to eat him.

I know, totally unfunny.

Ngaire: I want all done eggies and tortillas.

The Husbandlet: All right, you can be all done.

Ngaire: I want ice cream.

Me: We have ice cream after dinner, not after breakfast, sweetie.

Ngaire: So, I want some ice cream.

Me: We have ice cream if we eat ALL our dinner. It’s the same for Mommy and Daddy. Just last night, I was going to eat some ice cream, and Daddy said, “Did you eat your veggies?” So I had some salad first.

The Husbandlet: That’s right; Daddy is very consistent.

Ngaire: Daddy is consistent but he has no ice cream.

* * *

Poor Liam is on his third day of fever. He spent all of Friday night and part of last night in our bed, squawking and nursing and occasionally even sleeping.

Right at 6:00 on Saturday morning, he suddenly sat up in bed next to me, leaned forward, pressed his mouth against my cheek, and sat back with a smile.