"What's this?"
"It's... the thingy... where the gas goes in the car. The gas-hole."
"Gas-hole."
"That's right, Andy. Gas-hole."
Through his language, I'm able to see how Andy understands his little universe. For instance, nothing is ever Andy's fault. When he's not paying attention and walks into the table, he bursts out crying, "Not nice, table!" If he runs and trips over his truck, he shakes his finger and shouts, "Not nice, Andy truck!" He makes sure to add the ownership label of "Andy" before the word truck lest Alex accidentally think that he may one day be able to play with said truck- because he won't. Ever. Andy's sharing skills have seemed to backslide as his language skills have increased, and often he asks what something is called just so he can tell me that the item in question is his.
"What's this?"
"It's a puzzle."
"ANDY PUZZLE."
And don't you forget it.
It's always hilarious the first time Andy says something on his own without being prompted. Hilarious-slash-adorable. At the park the other day, he came running up to me with a slightly older boy in tow. "Mommy, FRIEND!" he cried out, pointing at the other boy. "Wow, Andy, you found a friend?" I asked, my heart melting a little at Andy's first, sweet and proud use of the word "friend." "Yes, Andy friend!" Andy affirmed. Later, Andy's "friend" would proceed to throw handfuls of wood chips in my face, confirming my suspicion that one day, all of Andy's friends will be real shitheads.
For some reason, Andy really loves that Carley Rae Jepsen song, "Call Me Maybe." I put the video on my smart phone for him to watch and enjoy, and when the song was over, Andy begged, "More lady!" More lady? That's hilarious. And that little slut is hardly a lady... but I let Andy watch the video over and over again, basically so I could hear him use the word lady semi-correctly. To date, we have watched that video 537 times, which is only one time less than I've had to sit through "Shrek," during which Andy declares "Pretty princess," "Donkey OUTSIDE," and "Hot soup" when Shrek and the donkey are walking over the red, swirling lava which resembles one of five lunch options Andy likes to enjoy- tomato soup. HOT tomato soup.
Andy has also showed that he understands who Alex belongs to. "Mommy baby," he says, calming my fears that Andy wouldn't understand I'm Alex's mother in addition to being Andy's mother. He also knows that Alex has "small feet," Andy has "big feet," and that the term "P.U!" is applicable when he sniffs his own feet. P.U. indeed, Andy. Who's in charge of washing those bad boys?
Andy uses his words to boss me around, too. "Mommy, sit," he tells me, patting the area next to him when he's ready for some cuddle time. On the other hand, lately, Andy has been very quick to kick me out of the room when he wants to do something bad. Yesterday, I chastised him for standing on an ottoman and switching the front room lights on and off. After considering his options for a minute, Andy started yelling, "Mommy upstairs, Mommy upstairs!" in an effort to get me as far away as he was comfortable with so that he could continue flicking the lights on... and off... and on... and off... and on... and off...
So I did what any reasonable mother would do. I shrugged, picked up Alex, and hauled my ass upstairs while Andy enjoyed his little light switch rave.
Andy and I spend most of our days talking to each other. Now that I'm a stay at home mom with a baby and a two year old, Andy is often the closest thing I have to another adult. And so I chat with him, teaching him new phrases (such as "dwindling savings account") and making the huge mistake of telling him our plans for the day ("We'll go to the park after lunch." "Park? Andy park! Andy park! Andy PARK! ANDY PARK! ANDY PAAAAARRRRKKKK!").
I'm learning. Maybe not as quickly as Andy- but I'm definitely learning.
Delightful!
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