Anybody seen my dissertation lying around? No? Hmm. Guess I can't work on it then. Better just post some pictures instead.
Cute.
Cuter. 
Um. Hmm.Sunday, November 9, 2008
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Playing with Words
Being pretty new to the territory of words and language and whatnot, Bryson occasionally makes some amusing slips of the tongue. Two brief examples:
Tonight Bry had the good fortune to have tater tot casserole for dinner. Go midwestern cooking! Steve scooped some casserole onto Bry's plate and explained all of the components: beef, mixed veggies, onions, celery, lima beans, and of course, tater tots. After Bry polished off his first tot, he requested enthusiastically, "More teeter totters!" Being the mature adults that we are, this of course prompted Steve and I to refer to the conglomerates of potato as "teeter totters" for the rest of dinner. Mmm. Good teeter totters.
Later tonight, when I was rocking Bry, he requested "songs!" When I asked him what song he wanted, he thought for a moment, and responded, "Workin' on Freeway!" when he was attempting to ask for "I've Been Workin' on the Railroad." I got the idea, but later regretted having translated for Bry, because I then got hit up for about six encore performances: "Do it a-gain!" Have you ever realized how nonsensical that song is? Who is this Dinah person and why is someone playing the banjo in her kitchen? I get the sense that I'm missing some context here, having learned the song many, many years ago, when I never really paid attention to what the words in songs meant. Just remembering the words must have taken up all of my mental capacity at the time. Good thing I've got so much mental capacity to spare currently. Ha.
Tonight Bry had the good fortune to have tater tot casserole for dinner. Go midwestern cooking! Steve scooped some casserole onto Bry's plate and explained all of the components: beef, mixed veggies, onions, celery, lima beans, and of course, tater tots. After Bry polished off his first tot, he requested enthusiastically, "More teeter totters!" Being the mature adults that we are, this of course prompted Steve and I to refer to the conglomerates of potato as "teeter totters" for the rest of dinner. Mmm. Good teeter totters.
Later tonight, when I was rocking Bry, he requested "songs!" When I asked him what song he wanted, he thought for a moment, and responded, "Workin' on Freeway!" when he was attempting to ask for "I've Been Workin' on the Railroad." I got the idea, but later regretted having translated for Bry, because I then got hit up for about six encore performances: "Do it a-gain!" Have you ever realized how nonsensical that song is? Who is this Dinah person and why is someone playing the banjo in her kitchen? I get the sense that I'm missing some context here, having learned the song many, many years ago, when I never really paid attention to what the words in songs meant. Just remembering the words must have taken up all of my mental capacity at the time. Good thing I've got so much mental capacity to spare currently. Ha.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Conversations with the Bry
Daddy once again. As you can probably deduce from the flurry of videos I've been posting, Sandy has been quite busy of late with her doctoral program. The good news on that front is that it's given me an opportunity to finally finish sifting through all our video from the summer. I hope you enjoy this final compilation from the past several months.
Election Day!
With election day so near, Bryson wanted to send out a brief political message for all his readers out there.
Saturday, November 1, 2008
Oops, Revisited
Oops was the very first video we published here on Blogging the Bry. Well, we've got a sequel for you. That book just keeps giving and giving...
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Scenes from the Fall
It's Daddy with another video highlighting Bryson's Fall-time adventures. It's hard to believe that at one time I considered raking leaves to be a rather onerous task. Now I'm finding myself actually hoping that the wind blows our neighbor's leaves into our yard.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Trying to Capture It
I've now started and abandoned two posts trying to describe Bry's ever-growing verbal skills. For some reason I'm having a really difficult time capturing the sheer amazingness (totally a word) of his developments. Not only has he been speaking in sentences for some time, but he's pulling phrases seemingly out of thin air - phrases like, "This one's really cool!" (as he points to whatever is catching his eye at the moment). I don't recall ever having uttered those words in that sequence, but who knows. Of late, I have found myself wandering around, half-aware that I'm muttering the lyrics to Baby Beluga under my breath. Oh, Raffi, if only you could have used your powers for good. Maybe I also go around declaring the coolness of random objects around our house and Bry is just mimicking me.
Bry seems to be starting to grasp the structure of language too. He adds 's' to the ends of words to make plurals and on occasion, 'ed' to indicate past tense. Given the idiosyncrasies of the English language, this of course produces some amusing Borat-esque turns of phrase and pronunciations. Like "knive-es" as the plural of "knife" and "Bry goed down the slide!" While he seems to understand male and female pronouns like he, she, his, hers, he's not yet grasped the notion of personal pronouns like I, me, my. The result is not unlike living with a human version of Elmo, aka the fictional, red tree sloth who refuses to use pronouns. Try as we might to insert the correct pronouns into his sentences, Bry still insists on declaring, "Mama, hold you!" when he is trying to say, "Mama, hold me!" Or "Bry wants 8, 9, 10 truck books!" instead of "I want...." And yes, he does go around saying, "8, 9, 10!" or sometimes, "8, 9, 10, 11, 13!" with great enthusiasm whenever he's trying to convey a big number. Once upon a time, he used to count from 1 to 10, only occasionally dropping numbers in the middle. Apparently he's decided that method is much too inefficient, and that 12 is just too pedestrian to even consider uttering. The same goes for the alphabet too. Bry will start off with "a-b-c-d" and progress to "ef-g-h-i-j-k!" and then to "el-em-o-p-q-r-s-u-v-yay!" His excitement catches up with him before he can get out the w-x-y-z.
Lately, it seems like Bry's brain is working doubletime to keep up with all of the communicating that he is trying to do. He often stumbles over his words, as if his mouth just can't keep up with the explosion of news bursting forth from his brain: "Find melon truck on freeway maybe!" (Don't ask me what a melon truck is. I have no idea.) He might have a ways to go on syntax, but his message comes through crystal clear. Perhaps the clearest sign that Bry's language development is in overdrive is the fact that he is using language not only to communicate, but to influence. Or to try to influence, anyways. And by influence, I mean test. Or manipulate. But in the very cute, naive sense. At bedtime, after we rock and snuggle, I put him in his crib and he requests, "Mama rub you back. One minute, maybe!" (i.e., "Rub my back for one minute, mama!"). Though he can't yet tell time, he's figured out that the currency for extending favored activities lies in minutes, as in, "One more minute!" or "One minute playtime, maybe?" When he's in his crib, I promise him one minute, and then tell him it's time to say goodnight. His small voice asks quietly, "Daddy rub you back, maybe?" Smart kid. But not smarter than mama. Yet.
Bry seems to be starting to grasp the structure of language too. He adds 's' to the ends of words to make plurals and on occasion, 'ed' to indicate past tense. Given the idiosyncrasies of the English language, this of course produces some amusing Borat-esque turns of phrase and pronunciations. Like "knive-es" as the plural of "knife" and "Bry goed down the slide!" While he seems to understand male and female pronouns like he, she, his, hers, he's not yet grasped the notion of personal pronouns like I, me, my. The result is not unlike living with a human version of Elmo, aka the fictional, red tree sloth who refuses to use pronouns. Try as we might to insert the correct pronouns into his sentences, Bry still insists on declaring, "Mama, hold you!" when he is trying to say, "Mama, hold me!" Or "Bry wants 8, 9, 10 truck books!" instead of "I want...." And yes, he does go around saying, "8, 9, 10!" or sometimes, "8, 9, 10, 11, 13!" with great enthusiasm whenever he's trying to convey a big number. Once upon a time, he used to count from 1 to 10, only occasionally dropping numbers in the middle. Apparently he's decided that method is much too inefficient, and that 12 is just too pedestrian to even consider uttering. The same goes for the alphabet too. Bry will start off with "a-b-c-d" and progress to "ef-g-h-i-j-k!" and then to "el-em-o-p-q-r-s-u-v-yay!" His excitement catches up with him before he can get out the w-x-y-z.
Lately, it seems like Bry's brain is working doubletime to keep up with all of the communicating that he is trying to do. He often stumbles over his words, as if his mouth just can't keep up with the explosion of news bursting forth from his brain: "Find melon truck on freeway maybe!" (Don't ask me what a melon truck is. I have no idea.) He might have a ways to go on syntax, but his message comes through crystal clear. Perhaps the clearest sign that Bry's language development is in overdrive is the fact that he is using language not only to communicate, but to influence. Or to try to influence, anyways. And by influence, I mean test. Or manipulate. But in the very cute, naive sense. At bedtime, after we rock and snuggle, I put him in his crib and he requests, "Mama rub you back. One minute, maybe!" (i.e., "Rub my back for one minute, mama!"). Though he can't yet tell time, he's figured out that the currency for extending favored activities lies in minutes, as in, "One more minute!" or "One minute playtime, maybe?" When he's in his crib, I promise him one minute, and then tell him it's time to say goodnight. His small voice asks quietly, "Daddy rub you back, maybe?" Smart kid. But not smarter than mama. Yet.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
