Grant's vocabulary

Grant is falling into the typical pattern for second child, in that he's mostly letting Cooper do the work of talking for him. He's remarkably adept at expressing his needs to Cooper, somehow. Big brother babble translator Cooper nails it on the head as much as I do, I think. Cooper often will be talking with Grant and then turn to me and say, "Grant says he wants a banana." And sure enough, the darn kid wants a banana. Of course, that's kinda cheating, because Grant will eat up to six full size bananas a day if we let him (rest assured we only let him do that once). But still.

One of the things I love the most about this is that Cooper is totally undaunted by Grant's five word vocabulary. You'd think it would be frustrating to live with someone that communicates exclusively by clapping, nodding, screeching, Doggie, Dada, Chicken, Blankey and You're Welcome, but somehow it works. Cooper holds complete conversations with Grant, including all sorts of input from Grant that may or may not actually be occurring in reality. I guess if you can engage a stuffed animal for two hours, an animate and babbling baby brother is a comparably delightful companion.

Our favorite part of the day, some days, is the early morning. On mornings when Cooper and Grant both wake up in a good mood, they'll chat with each other for easily 30 minutes, with Cooper handing various toys to Grant in his crib, laughing together, and being extremely cute. We often hear Cooper chiding Grant calmly about something in his big brother voice, "No Grant, we don't hit people," or "No Grant, we don't grab," which is always impressive. And recently, one morning, Grant got very agitated really quickly for some odd reason, and Cooper said, "Don't worry Grant! I'll get mama and she'll make you feel better!" and then he came up the stairs, told me that Grant needed my help, took my hand and forcibly dragged me out of bed to go get his brother. When we got there, Cooper announced, "See Grant? I got Mama and now you gonna feel so much better."

The sad kids

In the car, on the way home from daycare.

Cooper: Where is daddy?
Me: He's at work until after dinner.
Cooper: What does he do at work?
Me: Uh... well... uh... he helps kids that are feeling sad get better.
Cooper: How does he do that?
Me: I think mostly he talks to them.
Cooper: Oh, OK. That's great.

About 45 minutes later, out of the blue.

Cooper: Daddy helps the sad kids feel better by talkin' to them.
Me: That's right. Daddy helps them feel better.
Cooper: What does Daddy say to the sad kids?
Me: I don't know. What do you think he says?
Cooper: I know what he says. He says, "Hey guys, what's goin' on? What's happening over here that makes you feel so sad?"
Me: Then after that, what do the kids say?
Cooper: They feel better. And then they say "Thank you."

I told Matt about this and he said that essentially, Cooper is right. The only part that was kinda wrong was that teenagers basically never say "Thank you."

Hero worship

Grant looks up to Cooper like a god. We've seen some very funny results of this in the last few months, now that Grant is more or less able to imitate what Cooper is doing.

This weekend, we were all playing outside and Cooper decided he wanted to pee on one of the lilac trees. I told him to go ahead, so he pulled down his pants, grabbed the tree trunk so that he was leaning over appropriately to keep his pants dry, and peed. No problem- very well executed. Moments after Cooper had wandered away, Grant walked up to the same spot, pulled his pants up (from the ankle) to just above his knees, grabbed the tree, leaned over, and giggled loudly. He was so proud of himself. Look at me! I'm doing what Cooper was doing!

So proud

Another quote that had me stifling laughter this week happened as I was having lunch with Grant and Cooper. I was chatting with Grant and he kept reaching for my sandwich. After he reached for it a couple of times, I said, "Sure Grant, you can have a little piece if you want," tore off a small section, and handed it to Grant. Cooper looked at me and said, "Mom, I am so proud of you for sharing your shammish with Grant. That's what good mommies do."

I think we've probably said, "Cooper, I'm so proud of you for sharing your toys with Grant. That's what good big brothers do," about a thousand times. Apparently, it was heard loud and clear.

Two quotes

Cooper has said some gems since I got home from DC on Tuesday.

Over dinner yesterday...
Me: Do you want some string beans?
Cooper: Well mom, you've got two options. You can put string beans on my plate, or you can put string beans right here on the table.
Me: OK, uh (stifling laughter), I think I prefer the plate.
Cooper: That's great, mom. I'll have the string beans on the plate then.

This morning as I was helping Cooper get dressed.
Cooper: OUCH that hurts me!
Me: What? What hurt?
Cooper: Your hands are terribly icy. Please don't touch me with your hands. I don't like it.

Imaginary... friend?

Cooper sort of has an imaginary friend, except that instead he has an imaginary truck. His blue truck. Don't remind him it is pretend- he'll get really mad at you.

Cooper tells all sorts of funny and cute everyday narratives about his blue truck, each of which has its own set of ever-changing details. On a typical day, Cooper might tell us he's going to drive it to school with his lunch box that has fruit in it. And then later he'll inform us that he is going to drive the blue truck to daycare with Grant in his car seat and with the special daycare bags. Or he might pronounce, apropos of nothing, that he's taking his blue truck to the store to buy more brown ice cream and new pears.

I like to think of his blue truck as his sidekick, like a little person that is actually a truck. Almost like a pet. He very much treats his blue truck in the way that a good imaginary friend might be treated- it is the main actor in things that Cooper wants to do but can't quite figure out how to do all by himself.

"When I'm a big boy I'm gonna go to school in my blue truck to see my friends and write letters on paper and play on the slide."

Or my favorite, an exchange that happens in this pattern (although the details always change) nearly every day...

Cooper: I want a cookie for lunch.
Me: We don't have any cookies right now, buddy.
Cooper: Don't worry!! I will drive my blue truck to the store and buy some for you!

Our house

I'm entering our house in a contest and need a public link to a picture of our house. So if you want to see what our house looks like today on a cloudy afternoon, here you go!