Wednesday, September 11, 2002

"In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on." -Robert Frost

"The tragedy of life is not that it ends so soon, but that we wait so long to begin it." -W. M. Lewis

"May you live every day of your life." -Jonathan Swift

Monday, September 09, 2002

Understanding a two-year old is more challenging than trying to solve the Riddle of the Sphinx, unless you’ve upgraded to the Mother Level. Case in point - my conversation with my 2-year old nephew, Anthony, at his birthday party yesterday:

He: “Bim.”
Me: “Bim?”
He: “No. Brim.”
Me: “Brim? You want a brim?”
He (quite exasperated now at my stupidity): “No! No! Bim! Bim!”

I’d have more of a chance finding the Ark of the Lost Covenant than understanding this lingo. As my sister approached (who, in addition to understanding Two-Year Oldian, has also magically grown eyes all over her head since she’s able to keep an eye, or rather, eyes on about 9 kids who are high on sugar and cranky from the heat), she looked at me with perplexity, trying to figure out what all the confusion was about.

So I asked her, “What’s brim?” Anthony by now is probably ready to bean me with his juice cup.

My sister patiently stooped down to Anthony’s level (yet another perk of the Mother Level – the ability to shape-shift down to the height of a toddler), stared into his big (and quite angry by now) brown eyes, and questioned, “brim?”

He: “Brim! Brim!”
She: “Oh. Blimp. He’s telling you about the 4 Goodyear Blimps we saw today.” Clear as a bell. Easy as pie. What was I thinking.

He: “Four. Park.”
She: “We saw them at the park.”

Well, now that I’ve learned a few new words of this Two-Year-Oldian lingo, I’m all that and ready to bring it on. So, with a look of pride on my face, I walk Anthony over to the grandparents and say, “Anthony, tell Nana and Other Nana what you saw today.”

He: “Nana! Nana! Brim! Brim!”

The looks of confusion on their faces was enough to make me laugh. Ha! They of the old, antiquated Mother Level were challenged.

Me: “Duh…he’s telling you he saw the 4 Goodyear Blimps today…four of them…at the park.”
He: “Four. Park.”

Anthony and I celebrated our new-found connection with juice cups and some silly game whereby he would “tickle” tree branches and ramble on in more of his language. I had learned enough for one day and told him to take it easy on me. After all, I’m only the aunt.

However, a big, sloppy kiss, a “yuv you” and a “see ya yater” translated just fine from his lips to my ears – some concepts, regardless of the language, are universal.