Thursday, April 9, 2009

Terms of Endearment


The more vocal Caleb becomes and the more extensive his vocabulary grows, the more surprised I am at the things that come out of his mouth. I forget that phrases and ideas—thoughts that come out of my mouth—will inevitably come out of his. Fortunately, at least at this point, I can say that Aaron and I have been very careful and have yet to hear very many detrimental words or phrases (of ours) come out of Caleb . . . which is a relief! (Though I am sure this will come at some point); even so, Caleb has a remarkable way of transforming our speech, and it is quite amusing to hear a two-year-old talking as we do.
Case in point: As we were grocery shopping early this week, Ella began fussing in her car-seat carrier, and before I could voice my usual soothing endeavors, Caleb turned around in the front of his grocery cart seat and laid his chubby little hand against her head:

"Don't cry Honey," he said, "It's ok. I love you."
My mouth dropped open and I promptly kissed him and told him what an amazing brother he was. He beamed appropriately.

And again later in the week: As we drove about town, both babies in the back seat, firmly strapped into their car seats and traveling as we usually do—Ella asleep and Caleb chattering on about everything from the color of the stoplights (he tells me how to drive these days), to the height of various buildings—when he suddenly paused and pointed out a new construction site as we drove past. "What's that, Honey?" He asked me. I laughed out loud and looked back at him.
"Did you just call me Honey?" I asked him.
"Honey." he said, nodding and echoing his Daddy perfectly. I laughed again.
"I'm the Mommy." I said
"You the Mommy." He repeated with a grin. "I'm the Caleb."
"You're the Caleb." I laughed again, "The one and only." Again the grin and he returned to commenting on his surroundings as we drove past them.

Aaron told me later that night that Caleb had called him "Honey" as well, which seemed especially amusing to both of us . . . but it caused us to be thankful too . . . that it was this name, this term of endearment, that had apparently fallen so frequently from our lips . . . that he felt compelled to use it as he heard us doing. What a relief, and a fabulous reminder of how fully we influence our son—for the bad and the good!

2 comments:

  1. Tryn totally started talking to Berlin just like we talked to her and it was SOOO cute. She would say stuff like, "It's okay baby, baby. Don't cry honey. Baby Berlin! Don't cry Berlin!" Ah. If only this were still the case. Now Tryn and Berlin spend lots of time on each others nerves and Tryn mostly reserves that talk for her dollies.

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  2. Oh man, I love that! Makes me giggle thinking of all the things my boys have said. Ah. They are such a joy.

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