Rileyisms

Learning to talk can be complicated. Even adults sometimes struggle to get words and phrases correct (which is most apparent when listening people sing the words to songs that they think they know). Riley is no exception, and I thought I should probably start to document some of my favorites. I have no doubt that this list will continue to grow over the years, and only hope that I remember to keep track of them.

1. Bounce-it-ball (at 2-1/2, how he thinks "basketball" is pronounced).
2. Mr. Table Head (translation: Mr. Potato Head).
3. When singing "We Wish You a Merry Christmas," he believes the last word of the song is "You". As in, "We wish you a Merry Christmas, We wish you a Merry Christmas, We wish you a Merry Christmas, and a Happy New You!"

Tough Night

Riley, as noted many times before, has always been an excellent sleeper. When you put him to bed at night, he really doesn't make a fuss at all and will happily talk or sing himself to sleep.

Last night was an exception. He did not want to go to bed. He cried and cried and cried. Casey and I had to go back into his room countless times to talk to him or rub his back. It was just odd and so very out of character. He slept great after he finally fell asleep, so I was certain it wasn't because he wasn't tired.

I figured it was because he was excited about our trip to Chicago, after all, we have been talking about flying and seeing his cousins and aunt and uncle and grandparents for weeks.

I decided to ask him about it on the drive to school this morning. I said, "How did you sleep last night?" His response (standard these days): "I just closed my eyes." I then asked him why he didn't want to go to sleep. His response: "My cried." "Yes," I said, "you sure did. Were you scared or sad about something?" His response was not at all what I was expecting, but explained everything perfectly: "Wrigley not here. And Winnie." Ah ha! So that explains everything. I had dropped the dogs off last night at the house of some friends where they'll be staying while we're in Chicago. Riley didn't want to go to sleep because they weren't home. "My miss them, Mommy." Yup, buddy, me too.

Why?

You always hear about that phase where children begin to question everything. The common response to anything is "why". I believe we have hit the precursor to that stage, and it is equally as difficult to come up with appropriate responses.

This is how the average conversation with Riley goes these days.

"Mommy, what's tha-yat (yes, I swear "that" is pronounced as a two-syllable word with a distinct drawl in the middle)?"

I respond with the name for whatever he's pointing at.

His follow up question: "What's it doing?"

And I respond with some sort of answer.

To which he almost always replies, "Oh, ok" as if that was what he thought.

Sometimes this is easy. Example: "What's tha-yat?" "A dog." "What's it doing?" "Going for a walk." "Oh, ok."

Sometimes I have absolutely no idea how to respond. "What's tha-yat (pointing to something in road)?" Realizing it's a dead animal, I say, "A squirrel." "What's it doing?" "Sleeping." "Oh, ok. When's it going to wake up?" Hmm, no response to that.

This conversation also varies slightly when something or someone is on his mind. This morning he pointed to my purse and said "pocketbook", a word he learned from Granny Annie. Then he said, "Where's Granny Annie?" "In Florida." "What's she doing?" "Drinking coffee." (Seems likely.)

I guess I shouldn't complain. At least I can make up answers at this point and he doesn't know better than to call me on them. I'm not sure what I'm going to do when he starts learning things that I don't know how to answer.