Say less

The other night I was talking to Andrew as he was brushing his teeth. 

I cannot even remember what I was talking about. But I said something that merited a response so he mumbled through his toothbrush something that sounded like, "Say less."

Now, taken literally, "say less" could be a polite (?) way of telling someone they're talking too much. 

This may have well been the case that evening. 

But, "say less" is also slang for "yes, absolutely, we're on the same page."

This may also have been the case that evening. 

But, "say less" isn't really something Andrew says very often because (1) he doesn't typically tell me to stop talking (he just endures it) and (2) he's a middle-aged man (sorry, but it's true) who doesn't use a lot of today's slang, so it wasn't very probable that he would say "say less" to me in conversation (unironically). 

I decided to wait until he had finished brushing to circle back on whatever it was I had needed a response about. He clarified his response. I cannot remember what it was (but he definitely agreed with me).

I think we were probably (maybe?) talking about swim team tryouts, come to think of it, because those are this week. And because I remember that we were trying to make a somewhat important decision...but I can't remember what decision it was because we successfully made it and got it squared away on the calendar. So I can't remember what it was...only that it was. 

Whatever it was—we handled it. Like the mature adults that we are.

Anyway, once we got his actual response squared away (and I put whatever we decided on the calendar so I could evidently completely block it from my actual brain), I told him, "At first I thought you said, 'Say less,' and I was like, 'Who do you think you are—my editor?'"

What a shock!

At three-and-a-half, Phoebe is still fronting all (or most) of her /k/ and /g/ sounds. 

I've been working with her, but she is...less easy...to work with than Alexander (who had the same problem). I showed him "One Cool Trick" (holding down the front of his tongue while he made /k/ sounds to prevent him from using the tip of his tongue to say /t/ instead) and he "Understood The Assignment" (that is, he voluntarily began to use his finger whenever he needed to say /k/). 

"I wanna bite!" he'd say. 

"You want a bite?" I'd repeat. 

"No! I wanna biiiiiiKe," he'd say, sticking his little finger on his tongue at just the right moment to make that /k/.

And then eventually we prompted him to say it without his finger in his mouth and—presto!—the boy had /t/ and /k/ figured out (and everyone could understand him much better). 

I've been trying this with Phoebe but she puts her finger in her mouth and then still uses the tip of her tongue to make a /t/ sound. And when I have her try it with my finger in her mouth she either gags or bites me, which is...neat.

We have been making slow progress and she even will sometimes naturally say /k/ in phrases like "Thank you." Really anything that has a /kju/ sound in the middle...she can say /k/ then. So I know it's possible for her to make that sound. 

But I am personally highly motivated to help her figure out at least that distinction by the time she has her next well-child visit because our doctor (1) does not really like the idea of homeschooling and (2) was super concerned that Phoebe's language is behind because she probably doesn't ever get to talk to anyone outside of our family and so we simply haven't noticed that's she's unintelligible. 

And I was like, "Weird, because objectively—as a linguist—I am zero percent worried about her speech at this point. And she actually does speak to people outside of our immediate family. And they do understand her (sometimes) and, honestly, compared to the other three-year-olds in her church class...she is rocking the whole language development scene."

And I'm just a little bit not interested in figuring out speech therapy...so I told the doctor we'd just work on it at home. Because I'm a linguist (because, well, I'm a linguist). 

And I fixed Alexander. What would be so different about Phoebe?

Well...the fact that she's...Phoebe. 

Phoebe is lovely, but she's got a little more...spunk...than Alexander had at that age. 

Not only will she gag or bite me—she'll flat out tell me no. 

(Weird, right?)

Pelican's in Georgia

It has been years since we've been to Pelican's!

We went on a family adventure on Thursday (which I will write about eventually) and there was a Pelican's right across the street! Who knew? 

Packing up for college

Rachel's room is just about packed up. She's got a pile of boxes/stuff to take to college, a pile of boxes/stuff to put in the storage room, and a suitcase to live out of for the next few days. 

The kids are all anxious about her leaving—excited to take over her space and scared about how much they're going to miss her.

Things are tense, but sometimes better when Andrew's working with her than when I am. When Andrew's down there he and Rachel and Miriam tend to laugh and joke. When I'm down there we all tend to break down sobbing together. 

It's fine. 

Vacuum packing things is incredible. We put Rachel's entire dresser in one bag and shrunk it down to a little slab of clothing. We put all of her bedding in another bag, sucked all the air out, and now it's completely portable. Same thing with her closet. 

Poison Ivy thoughts

This post is just to say that we're reading a book where the parents are, like, amazing zoo-running, animal-keeper, veterinarian-type people, who are so invested in their zoo and their creatures that they seem to neglect their own child.

In the scene we just read, the child describes how some workers in the zoo made a pile of brush—that included a fair amount of poison ivy—and when they burned the pile of brush the child came in contact with the smoke and started having a fairly intense allergic reaction.

His mother reached for the Benadryl, he tells readers, but then started thinking about all the animals that may have come in contact with the smoke, and ran off to sound the alarm and assemble all the animal caretakers to attend to their assigned creatures, leaving the poor little boy to measure and administer his own medicine. 

Poor boy.

But 'cept! 

Two beautiful moments to bookend my day

While I was still in bed this morning, Benjamin came into my room—dressed for working out—and asked me if I wanted to go for a run with him before the day got too hot. 

To think I used to have to bribe him to run with me!

Of course I had to say yes!

While we were out, I told him that soon he won't want to run with me because he'll think I'm too slow for him. But right now—in this moment—we make a good little team. 

It was still hot. And so humid—ridiculously humid. 

So we ran two miles. And chatted. And called it good. 

It was delightful.

*****

Phoebe just got out of bed a little while ago, all on her own.

I heard her jiggling the bathroom door, so I looked over (I can see the bathroom from my desk) and saw her standing there, fiddling with her pyjamas. 

I got up to help her and she held up her hand to stop me.

"I just can do it myself!" she whispered. 

Rachel's 18!

Last month the ward choir sang on my birthday and this month we sang on Rachel's birthday. That means that (1) we get to sing, which is always fun and (2) we don't have afternoon practice, and it's kind of nice to get to have the rest of the day at home after church.

Rachel, Miriam, and Benjamin had a youth meeting after church, though, so they ended up coming home separately from the rest of us, anyway. And they brought Andie over to play games. 

Soon after Andie left, Grandpa and Darla arrived for dinner. Andrew and Benjamin had spent the entire afternoon making orange chicken (which was a whole lot of work, but which was also delicious). After dinner we opened presents, played Swoop (a game Grandpa and Darla played a lot on their cruise/bike trip through Europe this summer), and then had cake.

It was a very low-key birthday. Rachel also planned a few game nights around but not on her birthday so that she could hang out with friends but not have them do anything embarrassing like sing to her.

Here she is opening her gifts, which were all things for living on her own—a dough whisk...

Triangles

The other day we were practicing drawing triangles (because Phoebe struggles with triangles and anything triangular...like the letter A, for example). I put three dots on the page for her and she practiced connecting the dots, resting her felt pen between strokes to get a nice angle in there. 

It's a work in progress. 

Sometimes she's really into practicing her writing and sometimes she's not. On this particular day she was a little not into it and I asked her why and she told me that triangles are useless because they aren't people and she just wants to learn how to draw people. 

Fair. 

So I turned one of my triangles into a little girl by adding a circle for a head and little stick arms and legs and...she was very impressed and drew one of her own. 

And then decided giving a hand-drawn person a body and a head felt like too much work and defaulted to her favourite "hody" form where the head is the body and the body is the head: 

(Tall) Tales, Stuffed Animals, and More Cousins

Rachel is 18 now...and it's kind of hard to think about my child being an adult. 

It's hard for Phoebe, too. Alexander (jokingly?) told her that adults don't get birthday presents and so when Phoebe saw Rachel this morning she was like, "Happy birthday...sorry you're an adult now..."

"Uh...why?" 

"Be-tuz adults don't get birthday presents."

Phoebe was rather relieved when Rachel did get birthday presents after all. 

Anyway, we'll write about Rachel later because for now I will share some thoughts about Phoebe (who is still a child, and who wants the exact presents that Rachel got today for her birthday when she turns 18, which I suppose simplifies our shopping). 

Not only did Phoebe have a very cousin Saturday, but she also got to have a video call with some more cousins today. We made an effort to phone my parents a little earlier in the evening so the kids could talk with them (so often I call after the kids are in bed, simply because we're a few hours behind all the happenings in the west). Phoebe had a great time talking (and talking and talking). 

She would start off each story with a little nugget of truth like, "The other day we found an Easter egg and it had actual candy inside!"

That is true—we found an Easter egg that we had not found during our Easter egg hunt. It had a few Robin's Eggs inside and I think Alexander, Zoë and Phoebe each ate one. 

"And then I went upstairs and my bed was all the way filled up with candy and I had to eat it all and it was so good!"

That is not true, actually. 

A very cousin Saturday

Rosie's family moved to Tennessee in June, which means that we really, truly are close enough to visit now—no excuses! Except that we were supposed to get together for the 4th...but Rosie's girls got hand, foot, and mouth disease...and then soon after they recovered they got fifth's disease...and we've been battling our own viruses down here in Georgia. But this weekend we managed to finally get together!

Because they're living in a short-term rental until their house is ready for them, they made the trip down to us! They arrived on Friday afternoon and the kids played hard in the basement until dinner (but I left my phone upstairs and didn't take any pictures of them—we were just having a fun time catching up).

Rosie took this picture of the kids playing on a teeter-totter downstairs: