Poppie

There's a whirlwind of conversation flowing through our house lately. Mama to Papa. Papa to Mama. Mama to Lane. Papa to Lane. And Lane to anyone who will listen.

Literally, the kids talks up a storm. I can now proudly say, "He got that from me!"

A few weeks ago, Papa and I were amazed at how quickly he picked up new words: one or two every few weeks. Boy, that has changed. The babe says something new every day.

At our house, we consider "knowing" a word when Lane can accurately say the name of the object while recognizing the object.

So the other day, while leaving his playdate when a gecko lizard sat perched on the front steps of our friend's house, and Lane repeated after me "gecko," yeah, I don't consider that a word so much. (Nor do I consider that a sentence.)

However, last night, when Lane walked over to the freezer, tried to open the door and said "poppie, poppie," we knew exactly what he meant. He wanted a popsicle.

New word #1 of the week.


His friend Val came over last night for a study break, dinner and some play time with the babe. He knows her name. He shouts it proudly, "Bal, Bal."

He took her right to the back door after dinner and told her "out side," letting her know that is where he goes while mama cleans up the dinner dishes.


He entertained us with a little singing. It's the same routine every night. He opens up with, "dah, dah, dah," goes on to blasting us with his name over and over, "Ane T, Ane T," and then calls out for his best friend, "Mae, Mae."



He's got mad skills.



We had a busy day yesterday. Swimming lessons in the morning. Lunch with Papa. Back to the pool to show off all he's learned.

There's word #2 of the week. Pool. He loves it. As soon as we pull up, you hear it out of his mouth.

Pool. Pool.

Home to hang with Val.

He appreciated the cool after-dinner treat. So much so, he ate the poppie all by himself. A first. Usually Papa or I have to hold it for him and bite off little pieces.

Last night he figured it out. Didn't need our help one bit.

"Mmmmm," he said. Doing the happy dance.

Bar, that's what he calls Marley, watched intently. Waiting for me or Val to cough up some of our ice cream or for Lane to drop a piece of his poppie.

And here comes word #3. Ice eam. He came right in for a bite of mine and surprised us by using the right word.


When he was done, purple lips and all, he took his stick inside and placed in in the trash can. A trick his Auntie Stef taught him. We're not sure if we should thank her or not. Sure, it's nice to hand him something and ask him to throw it away. However, we've also pulled the remote, shoes and many other objects out of the trash can.


Before the night ended, Papa took him down to the garden, where he picked "tree lowers." One for mama and one for Val.

Three is his number of the week. Last month, he loved "doo." No matter what he was counting, there was always two of everything. This week, he loves "tree."

When it came time to hand his lowers over, (imagine saying flowers without the f and having a very Southern drawl - that's how Lane pronounces the word) he couldn't do it.

"One for Mama? One for Val," I asked.

"Nnnnooo," he told me and handed both to me.

Val didn't mind.

Lane made up for it when he walked her to the door, stood at the window and watched her leave. He tapped on the glass, calling "Bye, bye. Ove ou." Blowing kisses over and over.

He stood there long after Val pulled out of the drive telling her good-bye and how much he loves her.


If I left out the fact that he calls for his PawPaw about 400 times a day, I would not be doing a post on how much Lane talks any justice.

It is one of the first words he speaks when he wakes up. Throughout the day, he'll look at me at least once every 30 minutes with a look of question on his face and ask, "PawPaw."

I'll tell him Papa is at work. You'll see him soon.

And he waits - patiently. But as soon as the dogs begin to bark signaling that Papa is home, Lane stops what he is doing, runs to the hallway and begins to squeal with delight, "PawPaw, PawPaw."

He oves him.