Ryan offered to let Hayden call Nana Jane the other day, but Hayden wasn’t interested at first. A few minutes later, he grabbed Ryan’s phone and started asking for “Nana! Nana!”
So Ryan dialed his mom and gave the phone to Hayden. His mom answered: “Hello?”
“‘Yo?” said Hayden.
“Is this my little grandson Hayden?”
Long pause. “Uhhhh . . . I sink so!”
Last night, I caved. Hayden hadn’t fallen asleep after an hour in bed (which is very unusual for him). I went in to him because he was starting to cry—and he instantly asked for toast. Coming from a two-year-old who can’t seem to gain any weight, and who only had a half of a sandwich for dinner, the pitiful cry for “toast” broke down my mean mom resolve and I brought him out for some toast.
Hayden is still working on many of the finer points of syntax (just wait until Linguistics 430, kid!), so his questions are often framed like, “Toast, me?” Or, one of our favorites, “Bite, me?”
So when Ryan was trying to tease Hayden into sharing his toast, Ryan said, “Bite, me?”
Apparently we’ve pulled this joke on Hayden too many times. Rather than offering his dad a piece of his toast, Hayden opened his mouth wide and aimed for Ryan’s nose.
Yep, kid. Your dad said “Bite me.” Good answer.
Hayden has a small, crying monkey toy. Squeeze the monkey’s belly and he cries (or makes a monkey shriek, but Hayden has always called it crying). We call the monkey Baby Marty.
Today Hayden and I found Baby Marty while exploring his (not-so-) quiet time options. I handed Haydie the toy and he was very happy to see Baby Marty again—and of course, first thing, he squeezed Baby Marty’s belly.
When Hayden first got Baby Marty, he would make the toy cry, then cuddle it, holding it up to his shoulder to comfort the tiny monkey.
Today, though, he seemed to have changed his nurturing technique. After a few rounds of monkey shrieking, I asked Hayden, “What’s Baby Marty doing?”
“Cwying.”
“And what do we do when he cries?”
The old answer was to demonstrate loving up the monkey. But today, Hayden’s answer was:
“I s’ake!” And he shook Baby Marty.
He will probably not be the one in charge of helping to calm the baby when she comes.
The Haydicon and the dictionary of Haydenese continue to grow—and change. As he learns new words and sounds, he grows out of some of his old “baby talk,” and it’s sad to see it go. For example, “nanee” (candy) is slowly becoming “tanee” (which is a little strange, since he can pronounce a c/k sound, but only does for certain words).
Here are some of his latest Haydenisms:
turkey i’ saw (“Turkey in the Straw,” the song the ice cream truck plays)
yedder (letter, by extension, anything that is rectangular)
yunt/yunch (lunch, namely, a sandwich)
Whissers (Whiskers, the cat)
dasses (glasses)
tontack (this morning he had to put in his ‘tontacks’ This involved fiddling with his fingers, then nearly touching his eyes.)
dama (pajamas)
dip dip (zip zip; not to be confused with “dip dip dip,” ranch dressing)
fum? (I wonder who it’s from, always in conjunction with a letter)
sum (thumb)
hrends (friends, who the letter is from)
hridge (fridge)
dum (drum)
pain (plane)
owie (a hangnail/snag on my nail/broken nail, or regular owies)
tain (train)
tassel (castle)
belt (belt or bell)
fah me (follow me)
sose (close)
tick (kick; how we turn out the lights before bed)
winkle sar (twinkle star, and yes, that is its “proper” name)
tissies (kisses)
toas’ (toast)
toesies (toes)
tanee (candy, evolved from “nanee,” though the two are currently in what we linguists call “free variation” (he uses them both))
tandle/tannel (candle, this is evolved from “nandle/nannel/nanu”)
tout (cut)
messy? (What’s missing?)
nunners (another)
nummer (number)
gedder (together)
ay yub it (“I love it!”)
pug (plug, usually as “puggit”)
hrink (drink)
sert (shirt)
sorts (shorts)
pats (pants)
c’ock (clock, especially cute when someone asks him a question about time, since he knows to mention the clock)
wight! (Usually repeating whatever you’ve just said, such as “C’ock, wight!” in a very encouraging tone)
yewwow (all colors)
geen (second guess for all colors)
hware (square)
seerkle (circle)
pizza (triangle. And pizza.)
I hate making these lists because I know that I’ll always forget something. Most days I just wish we had a camera on the child all the time, so finally everyone in the world could understand what an adorable little boy he is—and especially his adult imitation. It’s getting pretty good!
As I’ve mentioned before (probably several times), Hayden is a very particular, meticulous little guy. Naturally, he was deeply disturbed to discover that one of the fluorescent bulbs in our kitchen had given up the ghost argon.
Every time we turned on the lights, every time he looked up at them (and this light is visible from the kitchen, living room, family room and dining room, so this was a lot), Hayden informed me anew “Night! Night! B’oken! B’ake it!” (Light! Light! Broken! Break it!, for those who don’t speak Haydenese).
If you’ve ever had a two-year-old, you know—this can get old very quickly. Finally, I told Hayden a week ago that Daddy would fix it soon. This placated him for a while, though he would often remind me “Daddy pits it.”
After four or five days, though, this excuse began to wear thin with Hayden. This week, when I told him Daddy would fix it soon, he looked at me. “Mommy pits it,” he nodded solemnly.
Apparently the kid knows who gets things done 😉 .
Hayden reached another milestone this week. While he’s made a play attempt or two at praying, he usually pretends to be shy when I try to help him through a prayer. Until Tuesday night.
Hayden was at the table getting ready to eat, I was getting ready to leave to visit someone from church and Ryan was getting his dinner. We reminded Hayden that we needed to say a prayer, and he dutifully folded his arms.
And then we heard what he was saying. “Hebely fader. Hebely fader. Hebely fader.”
Ryan and I quickly folded our arms and walked into the dining room. “Thank you for this day,” I prompted him.
“Dates day.”
“Thank you for this food.”
“Dates fud.”
“Please bless it.”
“P’ease b’ess.”
“In the name of Jesus Christ.”
Blank look.
“In the name of Jesus Christ,” I tried again.
Blank look.
This could be simpler for a two-year-old, I guess. “Jesus,” I tried.
He knew that one. “Dee sa.”
“Amen.”
“Amin.”
Not bad!