Friday evening, after I lit Shabbat candles, Mordechai and Sari went over to Penina's (two doors down the hall). I stayed back a bit to finish setting the table. When I came to Penina's, Sari ran over to tell me excitedly, "Penina's having shasha!" I asked her to repeat herself in an effort to make sense of her words, but it came out just the same the second time around. Penina was being fairly useless as she was just laughing at my confusion. Mordechai did his best to help out. "She means shooshi," he explained. Penina caught her breath long enough to clarify, "Sushi. We're having sushi tonight." Oh, shasha! Why didn't you say so?
In other news, Ada's vocabulary is starting to move along a bit. (Don't get too excited, she's barely intelligible to me, even with lots of visual cues.) Some of the latest additions to her repertoire: Ah-joo (orange juice), I-kee (ice cream), Bih (bib), Tih (sit), Ow (out), Ow-si (outside). My favorite for now, though, is said with strong emphasis and a slight whining quality that perfectly matches her siblings' rendition: Toh (stop)! That one is used if anyone dares to touch her, touch any toy that she has claimed rights to, or in any way cross her path and warrant her displeasure.
I mustn't forget Soo (shoes) - she got her first pair yesterday! [Thanks Savta!] She is totally obsessed with them. In fact, I have to hide them from her because her PT wants her walking barefoot in the house to increase her balance and strength and whatnot. There's no need, I'm sure, to describe the hell that would break loose if she would spot her shoes and I would defy her command to put them on her immediately. Both her PT and speech therapist have mentioned to me how amazingly like a teenager Ada is. They're referring to the attitude. :)
Mordechai is conscientiously reading the omer count every night out of his own siddur. I feel like he's a grown-up in a little boy version. (Okay, so that makes no sense. It was just a stream of consciousness thing and I'm not editing it out.) (So there.)
He's riding a two-wheel bike sans training wheels fairly well. He still gets frustrated sometimes with it. Last week, I cheered when he got to the end of the block and shouted, "I'm so proud of you!" He shot daggers at me with his eyes and said, "I'm not proud of me. I didn't turn." Yikes. How do we cure perfectionism? No, really. I need suggestions here.
4 comments:
I love the sushi "mess-up". It is so cute.
Also, congrats on Ada's new words (and new shoes--that's so exciting)!
I'm curing my perfectionism by becoming a flybaby (flylady.net) - there should be a children's book about it... Hey, Ayelet, let's write one! ANd we don't need to amke it perfetc.
Ayelet,
Im so proud of ada that she finally got shoes. I also have to hide my daughters shoes cuz shes forever taking them off and putting them on. Any pair of shoes she finds she puts on. She is obsessed with shoes. Over yom Tov my sisterinlaw was ready to kill me she could never find her kids shoes cuz my daughter would find them and put them on and run off somewhere. Looking forward to seeing ada in her new cute shoes
LW
I love the new stories. I have one idea with the perfectionism: is he like that in every area or just one where he's learning a new skill? I'd probably continue to praise him when he does things pretty well or give him some genuine comments about effort like "You're really trying so well," or telling him stories about people who put in a lot of effort and did their best, and about how Hashem values effort rather than perfection. Speaking as a perfectionist and hoping that doesn't pass on to my kids nearly as much as I do: our kids also watch us and how we react to our own behavior, and pattern themselves after us to some extent.
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