I’m pretty sure that although my daughter has dreams of being a lounge singer, she is better suited to be a linguist.
And it’s not just because her father is a genius and uses words I’ve never heard of before. And it’s not because before I had children, I had a pretty good vocabulary myself.
It’s not even because I suspect my husband of sneaking J.R.R. Tolkien books under her pillow at night, hoping some of Tolkien’s linguistic talent will go to her head through osmosis.
It’s because she’s already started down the path that leads to being a linguist.
I think one of the talents you must have to be a linguist is the ability to make up words on the spot and define them and then convince everyone that your definition is correct. She’s really good at this.
For example, during the Christmas season, we would drive around town looking at lights. If there was a house that had a display of lights that might put Las Vegas to shame, the Four Year Old would say, “HungaMunga!”
Without even waiting for the question that would ask for clarification, she would define her word for us: “HungaMunga. It means A LOT of lights.”
Pretty soon we were all bursting out with “HungaMunga!” anytime we saw a house with a lot of lights. Then my husband began to use it in a sentence, “That house has a lot of HungaMunga. Wouldn’t you agree?”
One day last week I was driving around completing errands with my kids in the car and my daughter started crying. If you know my daughter, it’s not very unusual for her to burst into tears all of a sudden and scare the heck out of you. Sometimes I can be strong enough and patient enough to deal with these little emotional outbursts. Other times she is so spontaneous in her crying that it surprises me and I respond by practically jumping out of my seat.
“What is wrong?” I asked. If you want to, you may believe that I asked this in the most patient and loving Mommy voice. If you want the truth…I probably asked it with a tone of exasperation.
“All the HungaMunga is gone!” she wailed.
I didn’t know whether to laugh because it’s obvious this word has become part of our family vocabulary or cry because I was too tired to explain the cycle of Christmas decorations yet again.
I could make a list of the words that she has made up and have become part of the household vocabulary, but I won’t because I need that list for future blog entries. I have to stretch the fun out.
Another language “issue” I’ve noticed about the Four Year Old, though, is her ability to make sure that everyone understands that words that are used in past tense, are REALLY used in past tense. What I mean is that she throws an extra “ed” on the end of a word to make it as meaningful as possible. She doesn’t just say, “Mommy, I missed you.” She says, “Mommy, I missed-ed you.”
I know this is a typical preschooler thing to do, but I am going to kind of miss (ded) those words when she grows out of them.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Sunday, January 8, 2012
It's not easy being green
The other night I almost had a heart attack.
Well, not really, but I did almost do a cartwheel and shout, "Yippee!"
You see, my daughter ate a vegetable.
Not just any vegetable. But the green one that looks like trees and that one must usually smother in cheese sauce to make it appear edible to anyone under the age of thirty.
"What is this called again?" asked the Four Year Old, holding up her fork that had speared one of the small trees (not covered in any sauce, mind you).
"Broccoli."
She stuck it in her mouth. I waited.
"I like broccoli now."
Inside my head, the crowd was going wild. Cheers of joy filled my head. I mentally spoke to the vitamins in the green stuff she had just swallowed, asking them to find their way to the most vital parts and take root, because who knew when she would eat another vegetable. It took me four years to get her to eat this.
"Oh, good." I said.
"I don't like the white ones, though."
My husband said, "That's cauliflower. That's different. It's okay if you don't like it. You tried it at least."
My daughter ate another piece of broccoli. She could have asked me for anything she wanted and I would have given it to her. Would you like a pony? I will go get you a pony. Thank you, thank you, for eating a vegetable.
Did you ever notice that they make it as easy as possible to lie on the Wellness Questionaire at the Pediatrician's office? Maybe not at all doctor's facilities, but at least in ours. They put all the right answers in one column, and all the wrong ones in another. Does anyone smoke in your home? Is your water heater turned to the right temperature? Do you put your baby in a car seat? It's all yes or no, check this box, type of questions, all the correct answers in the same column to make it convenient to just check down the row. I wonder if whoever wrote that questionaire knew that most mothers are suffering from lack of sleep and multi-tasking headaches, and thought, "The poor dears, let's just make it so they don't have one more thing to think about." So I'm taking my son to get his wellness check up (four months late) and to get his shots and I'm filling out the form, feeling like I could get an A or a happy face sticker on the form for being such a good mom. And then the form says, "Do you offer your child vegetables at every meal?"
I actually hesitated. Like I held my pencil in the air and stared at the form and considered lying by marking "yes." Why, yes, my children are offered vegetables at every meal because what kind of mother would I be if I didn't do that? I'm certainly not the mother who throws five chicken nuggets on a plate in the microwave and asks, "You want ketchup with that?" and calls it good. I'm certainly not the mother who considers chocolate cheerios a decent snack.
I had visions of being tied up to a chair and being questioned by Jack Bauer (Okay, if you never watched 24, you won't get it) on my children's eating habits. Then being declared some sort of vegetable hater or terrorist and hauled away never to be heard from again. Caught by the Counter Terrorist Unit in defense of all things veggie. No, Jack, don't hurt me, I promise to offer peas and carrots.
I marked "no". I do not offer vegetables with every meal. Let the chips fall where they may. I can take it.
That Pediatrician didn't even look at my questionaire.
I still felt guilty - I made a promise to myself that I would make an effort to at least offer vegetables with dinner. And even if they don't eat them, I will have done my job. I was rewarded with 4 small trees of green being eaten by the Four Year Old. The Toddler just threw them on the floor.
You can't win them all.
I gave the Four Year Old cake for dessert.
Well, not really, but I did almost do a cartwheel and shout, "Yippee!"
You see, my daughter ate a vegetable.
Not just any vegetable. But the green one that looks like trees and that one must usually smother in cheese sauce to make it appear edible to anyone under the age of thirty.
"What is this called again?" asked the Four Year Old, holding up her fork that had speared one of the small trees (not covered in any sauce, mind you).
"Broccoli."
She stuck it in her mouth. I waited.
"I like broccoli now."
Inside my head, the crowd was going wild. Cheers of joy filled my head. I mentally spoke to the vitamins in the green stuff she had just swallowed, asking them to find their way to the most vital parts and take root, because who knew when she would eat another vegetable. It took me four years to get her to eat this.
"Oh, good." I said.
"I don't like the white ones, though."
My husband said, "That's cauliflower. That's different. It's okay if you don't like it. You tried it at least."
My daughter ate another piece of broccoli. She could have asked me for anything she wanted and I would have given it to her. Would you like a pony? I will go get you a pony. Thank you, thank you, for eating a vegetable.
Did you ever notice that they make it as easy as possible to lie on the Wellness Questionaire at the Pediatrician's office? Maybe not at all doctor's facilities, but at least in ours. They put all the right answers in one column, and all the wrong ones in another. Does anyone smoke in your home? Is your water heater turned to the right temperature? Do you put your baby in a car seat? It's all yes or no, check this box, type of questions, all the correct answers in the same column to make it convenient to just check down the row. I wonder if whoever wrote that questionaire knew that most mothers are suffering from lack of sleep and multi-tasking headaches, and thought, "The poor dears, let's just make it so they don't have one more thing to think about." So I'm taking my son to get his wellness check up (four months late) and to get his shots and I'm filling out the form, feeling like I could get an A or a happy face sticker on the form for being such a good mom. And then the form says, "Do you offer your child vegetables at every meal?"
I actually hesitated. Like I held my pencil in the air and stared at the form and considered lying by marking "yes." Why, yes, my children are offered vegetables at every meal because what kind of mother would I be if I didn't do that? I'm certainly not the mother who throws five chicken nuggets on a plate in the microwave and asks, "You want ketchup with that?" and calls it good. I'm certainly not the mother who considers chocolate cheerios a decent snack.
I had visions of being tied up to a chair and being questioned by Jack Bauer (Okay, if you never watched 24, you won't get it) on my children's eating habits. Then being declared some sort of vegetable hater or terrorist and hauled away never to be heard from again. Caught by the Counter Terrorist Unit in defense of all things veggie. No, Jack, don't hurt me, I promise to offer peas and carrots.
I marked "no". I do not offer vegetables with every meal. Let the chips fall where they may. I can take it.
That Pediatrician didn't even look at my questionaire.
I still felt guilty - I made a promise to myself that I would make an effort to at least offer vegetables with dinner. And even if they don't eat them, I will have done my job. I was rewarded with 4 small trees of green being eaten by the Four Year Old. The Toddler just threw them on the floor.
You can't win them all.
I gave the Four Year Old cake for dessert.
Thursday, January 5, 2012
A use for bacon
As if anyone needed to be told a use for bacon. I just couldn't think of a clever title.
So I was looking for good crockpot recipes because, let's face it, they are few and far between it seems, and I found one. But then I tweaked it because I felt it needed bacon.
Here is the recipe. It's a navy bean and ham soup. With bacon. And sauteed onions. And carrots. And cream. Basically, I rewrote the recipe. It turned out quite yummy, but rich. A little goes a long way with this one. I also threw on some asiago shredded cheese on the top. I served it with fresh asiago cheese bread.
You will need :
A bag of navy beans. Soak 2 cups overnight in 6 cups of water. Drain.
A whole package of bacon (I used applewood smoked. It was quite extraordinary)
3 or 4 large carrots
1 yellow onion
whipping cream
1 box of chicken stock (low sodium)
a bunch of ham, cubed
pepper to taste
throw in some garlic with the onions while your sauteing if you want.
After soaking beans over night and draining, throw them in a crockpot.
Cook all your bacon, pat dry with paper towels and crumble. Add to crockpot.
Save the bacon grease. While bacon grease is still hot, saute one diced, yellow onion.
When onions are mostly soft, add to crockpot.
Slice carrots and saute in onion and bacon grease. When carrots are completely coated and change color a bit, remove and add to crockpot.
Add cubed ham to crockpot.
Add in one box of chicken stock (about 4 cups or so) and 1 cup of water.
Stir and cook on low for 7-9 hours.
About 1/2 hour or so before eating, add in some cream. I did about half of a small carton.
Serve in bowls with a little sprinkled asiago cheese.
Enjoy!
So I was looking for good crockpot recipes because, let's face it, they are few and far between it seems, and I found one. But then I tweaked it because I felt it needed bacon.
Here is the recipe. It's a navy bean and ham soup. With bacon. And sauteed onions. And carrots. And cream. Basically, I rewrote the recipe. It turned out quite yummy, but rich. A little goes a long way with this one. I also threw on some asiago shredded cheese on the top. I served it with fresh asiago cheese bread.
You will need :
A bag of navy beans. Soak 2 cups overnight in 6 cups of water. Drain.
A whole package of bacon (I used applewood smoked. It was quite extraordinary)
3 or 4 large carrots
1 yellow onion
whipping cream
1 box of chicken stock (low sodium)
a bunch of ham, cubed
pepper to taste
throw in some garlic with the onions while your sauteing if you want.
After soaking beans over night and draining, throw them in a crockpot.
Cook all your bacon, pat dry with paper towels and crumble. Add to crockpot.
Save the bacon grease. While bacon grease is still hot, saute one diced, yellow onion.
When onions are mostly soft, add to crockpot.
Slice carrots and saute in onion and bacon grease. When carrots are completely coated and change color a bit, remove and add to crockpot.
Add cubed ham to crockpot.
Add in one box of chicken stock (about 4 cups or so) and 1 cup of water.
Stir and cook on low for 7-9 hours.
About 1/2 hour or so before eating, add in some cream. I did about half of a small carton.
Serve in bowls with a little sprinkled asiago cheese.
Enjoy!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)