Mini-me

"I have discovered that there are several things that you learn about yourself once you become a parent. How nurturing you can be. How patient of a person you are. How much you can tolerate smell/bodily fluid. How well you can function on little sleep. How modest you are. And how you sound to other people.

In the past month, Sera's verbal abilities have increased exponentially. She picks up words here and there. Television has taught her "Edmond Hyundai," and "OSU" (plus a new hypnotic fascination with the sound of J.K. Simmons' voice and the Farmer's jingle.). From books, she has learned numerous animals, vehicles, exclamations, and absurdities, such as "goo-goo-goggles." At day care, she's learned "airplane," "night-night," several names, and much to our chagrin, "Elmo" and "Dora" (amongst other things). From Craig, she has learned necessary words, like "Chewbacca" (i.e. 'Bacca) and "Yoda." At home in general, she has learned simple daily terms, such as "spoon," "snack," "banana," "milk," "outside," "walk," and more. However, in a lot of what she says and how she says it, I see me.

What I have discovered about myself and how I talk has been illuminating. One day, as Fred attempted to escape out the front door, Sera shook her finger at Fred and said, "No! No! No!" Another day, as Sera reached into a drawer that is a "no-touch" area, she turned to me, drawer pull in hand, and shook her head while saying, "No! No! No!" It was then that I realized that I often say my "No's" in threes. The more urgent or serious the "No!," the more likely I am to say it in a trio.

I have learned that I have unique ways to identify certain things. When we walk down the stairs, I announce each step to Sera, as a warning to be careful and step down. So, stairs are not stairs. They are "steps." When washing Sera's hands, I squirt soap on her palms and instruct her to "rub, rub, rub" her hands together. Soap and antibacterial gel are now "rub, rub." When brushing her teeth, I narrate each movement of the toothbrush with "brush brush brush" (again, with the threes! You're starting to sound like you have OCD!). Now toothbrushes and toothpaste are "brush brush."

I have observed two interesting idiosyncrasies when responding to Sera's requests. When she asks for things, I will hand them to her and remind her to "say thank you." She has generalized this and now expects that "thank you" should be said whenever items change hands. If she is helping me unload the dishwasher, every spoon (or 'poon) is passed with a "thank you."  I then respond to her "thank you" with a "thank you." Its the most polite dishwashing experience ever.

When I fulfill a request for Sera, I have discovered that I say, "There you go." A LOT!
Sera: Mama, more!
Me: Do you want more milk?
Sera hands me her cup.
Me: Use words. Do you want more milk? Yes or no?
Sera: Yesssss. (the s at the end of "yes" is usually extended)
Me: (handing her a fuller cup of milk): There you go.

Sera's new response to "There you go" is now "I go." I swear, its the cutest thing, but it also makes me realize just how silly the phrase "There you go" is and has made me very conscious of how often I use it.

Sera has also assumed some of my tone- a tone that was unbeknownst to me. "I don't know" and "uh-oh" are usually spoken in a sing-song tone. A single "No" is sometimes  "Nah" or a "No" with a hint of derision.

Then there are the things she just says. Things that I did not teach her and she has adopted on her own. Such as the elongation of certain sounds. Snacks are not snacks. They are "'Nnnnnnack!" Juice is not juice. Its "Juiccccce." A bus is not a bus. It's a "bussss." Bananas as not bananas. They are "Nn-Nn-'Nanas!" She says "please" as "tease," but usually puts both hands on her head while she says it. She refers to all restaurants as "EAT!" Surprisingly, she is able to identify restaurants as restaurants, even if we've never eaten there. She can discern between a restaurant and any other building. (And despite the rare occasions that we eat out, she knows that little white styrofoam boxes usually contain "nnnnacks" or "EAT!")

So, to future Sera, I apologize. This trend will continue and you will speak more and more like mommy and daddy every day. What you learn from mommy and daddy was bully fodder when we were kids. We inadvertently taught you to say "Sweet" like Cartman.

Sweet!

You have already learned to prefer "Luke" over "Ha-solo" (and may be the only one on Earth to do so). I've probably taught you "wonky" when something is broken. I apologize for likely teaching you to say "apologize," when "sorry" will do. When you try to figure out how to get into something, you've learned that this is "trying to velociraptor" your way into it. And when you try to run away from me, you're not trying to "escape," you're "Shawshanking." I'm hoping that the rise of the nerd/geek continues and our lexicon will be considered "cool" and not worthy of teasing. And if it is met with ridicule, I hope you hold your head up high and respond with,  "If you strike me down, I shall become more powerful than you could possibly imagine," "You mocked me once! Never do it again!," or "I aim to misbehave." Because how you speak and what you say, however how odd or how many times you say it, will make you memorable. Because "you're not special. You're extraordinary."

Some kids "air guitar," Sera "air trumpets."