Daley Ponderings

Noah likes to help set the table.  When I ask him to put forks at the places, he will run to the drawer and grab a fistfull, then put a fork on top of each plate.  I usually have to help him put away the extras, or they end up all over the place.

He's also been copying words more.  I suspect that maybe he's not talking on purpose - waiting until he can talk in sentences.  Yesterday, I was saying, "up, up, up, the stairs," and he said, "up, up, up" until I realized what he was saying and then he changed his syllable to gibberish.  Then Miss Sanda asked who wanted soup for dinner and Jonathan said, "me, me, me!" and Noah said, "me, me, me."  When we exclaimed over it, Noah got all shy and wouldn't say it again.

Last night I was telling Sanda how Noah will shake his head if I ask him if he's a "cutie patootie."  She had never heard of the "patootie" part and I said it's just to rhyme, it's not a real word.  Jonathan ran to the living room and tried to pull the dictionary out of the shelf.  "Mom, can you help me get the look-up book out?"

Jon was away last night for a men's retreat and the boys really missed him.  Twice in the night, Noah reached for his empty spot on the bed.  Jonathan said, "It's no fun when Daddy's not here."  I sympathized, but assured them that he'd be back for dinner the next day.

Here is a conversation we had as we were going to bed:

Jonathan: I wish God would give us a little girl.  Then we could name her Katie, or Rachael, or all those other names.

Mommy: Well, usually each person only has two names.  But yes, I hope God gives us several little girls.

Jonathan: We could pray.  Then He'd say, "Well, I made enough little girls for today, but I can make you one tomorrow."  And then you'd be pregnant. Whee-hoo!