I've Got Things I Want to Say

My blog has a fan! She loved reading about the things my boy said, so I'm going to add more for her.

4 to 4 and a half years old

“I cannot smell my head because my nose is on my head.� (He was talking about smelling the top of his head because I had just said how I like it when he lays in the crook of my arm and I can smell his hair.)

“Google Earth is making a shadow on the moon!� Google Earth is the software we like flying around the world with and he mixed it up with the real earth. (The earth was casting a shadow on the real moon.)

“Mary Puffins� instead of "Mary Poppins" He was using the name of the cereal we both eat sometimes called "Puffins"

Daddy: “I can’t hear you. Mommy is making too much noise.�
Komayl: “Put some earrings on.�
Daddy: “That won’t help me hear better.�
Komayl: “Yes it will. I saw it on Caillou.� (Caillou is a TV show, and Komayl must have heard talk of a hearing aid on the show once.)

“How come the moon is following us?�

Komayl: “I’m cold. I’m cold.�
Mommy: “Why are you cold?�
Komayl: “Because I’m not warm.�

“Kitty Kat� instead of “Kit Kat� (the candy bar)

“Put me on the ceiling so I can be an Eid decoration.�

Posted by Dara Becker at 9:52 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Does anybody actually calculate the costs of raising a child before conceiving? I've read articles about it in magazines, but I never had the urge to calculate myself. HOWEVER, had I tried to sit down and calculate the costs, I would surely not have thought of these hidden costs:

1) toddler breaking 3 pairs of our glasses (about $300 x 3 = $900 USD)
2) toddler breaking 4 cell phones (about $70 x 4 = $280 USD)
3) renting an industrial strength rug/carpet cleaner for 4 hours every 4-6 months to clean the spills ($18 x 'til he's maybe 16 years old)
4) toddler cracking his wooden crib as I was taking it apart to put into storage ($300 USD)
5) toddler not being able to resist turning a tiny wall paper tear into a huge one (whatever is costs someone to fix it before trying to sell our house)

Oh I love my little guy!! Some day I'll be able to laugh at all this right?

Posted by Dara Becker at 9:08 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I finally found a use for those baton lessons I took as a pre-teen. I amazed my 4-year-old boy today by twirling a brass stair rod. I remembered the waterfall, figure eight, and the standard twirl whose name I do not recall. The look on his face was beaming, "Cool Mommy!" I better enjoy that look while I can ;)

Posted by Dara Becker at 10:27 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Being fascinated by language, I especially enjoy hearing all the new terms my young boy comes up with. For most of them I think, "Well why isn't that a word? It makes perfect sense."

If something happened yesterday in the morning, he'll call it, "yester morning."
Chicken pox are “chicken spots.�
"Kleenick" is singular for Kleenex.
"Kick" is singular for the cereal Kix as in, "There's one kick left."
A magazine is "magamail."
Pant leg is “sleeve pants.�
There was a thread hanging off his pajama bottoms. He said, “Can you take off this line?�

Posted by Dara Becker at 10:02 AM | Permalink

Once in awhile when I don't feel like doing anything that requires thought, I'll visit my list of sites that have plugboards and plug (add a tiny graphic to their advertising page). Over the months, I've come to know which plugboards are the busiest—not the busiest of all because I don't know of ALL the plugboards, but busiest of the ones on my list.

If you're looking for busy plugboards, here are a few:

http://host-plug.sakuradrops.org/
http://www.blogging101.com/plug-your-blog.php
http://www.middone.co.uk/plugboard.html
http://www.plugaholic.com/
http://www.plug-board.com/

Posted by Dara Becker at 11:51 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Years ago, a young New Jersey relative was talking to me on the phone regarding her plans to come stay with me for a week. She must have been a little concerned about what it would be like on the "western frontier" (Minnesota) because at one point she asks, "Do you have grocery stores there?"

Posted by Dara Becker at 11:40 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Have you ever driven through a busy city at night at an odd time and thought to yourself, "Well I'VE got a good reason for being out this late, but what are all these other people doing here?"

Posted by Dara Becker at 11:32 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I am always fascinated when I find out about other people doing and saying the same odd little things I do and say. Odd things, mundane things, self-talk… That's what's so funny about Ellen Degeneres. She can put her finger on those odd little things, and when she says them outloud, it's funny. It's funny to me because half the time she's describing me and things I didn't know other people thought about too. Ellen is sooo hilarious.

So I'm going to throw some odd things out there and see if anyone else can relate.

Have you ever picked up a sock from the living room floor and sniffed it to see if it was used or if it just got separated from the clean laundry?

Posted by Dara Becker at 9:13 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I just heard an ad on Minnesota Public Radio for something related to medicine. I was so busy contemplating the use of the word 'patient' that I don't remember what the ad was for.

'Patient' is not one of the words I use to describe myself. I have no self image of me as a patient—unless I've just entered a clinic, and, even then, I only think of myself as a patient because I know that's how the employees in the clinic are viewing me.

I think 'patient' is a word that should only be used by those in the field when talking to each other. It's like when people in the military call us civilians. I don't label myself a civilian either. I'm only a civilian from the point of view of someone in the military.

So here's my advice to the medical world: If you're talking to me in an ad, call me a person—not a patient. Calling me a patient makes me feel like an object—a walking collection of interdependent systems that is malfunctioning.

Posted by Dara Becker at 5:02 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

When I was about maybe 10 years old, my mom cut a column out of a newspaper and taped it to the inside of our bathroom door. I remember only one quote from that column. It was something like, "If 40 million people believe in a dumb idea, it's still a dumb idea."

What I learned from that message was to not discount my own decisions, convictions, ideas, etc. just because I was in the minority. "Might does not equal right" is another way to say it I guess.

I'm so glad I learned that lesson early in life because it has helped me numerous times—especially in high school where there is so much peer pressure.

Here's a story from when it helped me once:

In a social research class in undergraduate school, I was to complete a project with a group. I always hated small group projects because I was the smart and organized one who would do most of the work and everybody else would get my good grade. So three other girls and I were sitting in the library discussing our project. I'm the introverted, studious one and they're the bar-crazy party girls—never a comfortable situation for me.

After half an hour it becomes clear to me that they don't know what they're doing, and all three of them are in agreement to head off in the wrong direction. They tried their best to bully me into going along with their idea, but I didn't budge because I thought they weren't understanding the goal of the project. Of course I was thinking the whole time, "What if they really ARE right and I'M wrong?" I had to fight off my own doubts AND their intimidation.

Fortunately, the professor had given us the option to work on our own on the project, so I did just that. I declared my intention to work on my own and left the library.

When the day came for the professor to hand back our graded projects, my heart was beating a mile a minute. Soon I would be able to see if I was right all along or if THEY were right all along...

I forgot to breath, got dizzy, and finally saw a big red A+ at the top of my project! I was sooo relieved. I don't remember exactly the grade that the other girls got, but it wasn't an A. I remember that much because I felt so vindicated. Of course I'm not the type to rub it in, so I said nothing to the "mean girls," but somehow they found out my grade. I think the professor pointed out who it was when he was writing the grading curve on the board—my grade being at the very top of the curve ;)

Posted by Dara Becker at 10:36 AM | Permalink