Please click on photos for full effect (especially with the first one).
Chris completed his thesis last month, so Sylvan celebrated having Daddy back! I think he’s rather dapper wearing nothing but a rolled-up ladies’ vest.
Memory
On Saturday, the three of us (yippee, Chris is back!) ordered burritos, played in the park, went to a birthday party, and donated some items to a non-profit thrift store that assists homeless cats. They adopt out spayed and neutered cats with all of their shots from the store. The cats lounge on top of bookcases and hide under racks of jeans. On Saturday, over forty cats prowled the store, no small feat for any place, especially one this small. Contrary to what you might expect, the store does not smell like a litter box; they’ve rigged some good ventilation. Anyway, Sylvan’s been there once before, probably two months ago. As you might expect, he loves the place – lots of cats, most of whom are just dying to be touched, unlike our shy, prima donna cat. I drove up to the store on Saturday, parking directly in front of it. Sylvan looked out the window and immediately said, “Tdat,” which means “cat.” That’s right, Mr. Memory, this is where the cats live. So much for thinking toddlers don’t remember anything.
Yesterday, to celebrate his 18 month and 22 day birthday, Sylvan was diagnosed with the dreaded PINKEYE along with ear infections in both ears. “Moderate to severe,” said Dr. Diehl, whom we met for the first time but who lives exactly one block from us. When the doctor slid the end of the otoscope into Sylvan’s ear, Sylvan said, “buhd,” which, translated, means “bird.” Just as Sylvan spoke, Dr. Diehl starting to whistle, which is just what Sylvan’s regular doc does when she’s introducing the otoscope: “Listen for the birdies.” Sylvan remembered, and he was ready.
This is our friend Connor and his date, Yael. I think Connor and Sylvan resemble each other, especially from the noses up, so, of course, I think Connor’s adorable. We see Connor once a week if we’re lucky, usually along with a load of other toddlers and adults at Birth to Three. I’ve always considered Sylvan to be relatively internally focused at big gatherings, moving from toy to toy while ignoring the people. However, I showed Sylvan this photo, and he said, “Connor.” Yup, that’s your friend Connor, Mr. Smarty.
Language
Sylvan loves vehicles and heavy machinery. Trucks, backhoes, helicopters, and airplanes are a few of his favorite things. A recent addition to that list is “moga-dycles,” which makes me smile. I think that’s his first four syllable word.
My mum was here when Chris traveled to Savanna two weeks ago. She became “Gamba.” After she bathed Sylvan one evening, he really wanted to wear his frog towel from my cousins Jeff and Kath. “Wrap, wrap, bug” he insisted (Oh, come on, he’s close. It could be a bug). This has become an after-bath ritual now. Chris wrapped him up the other night and said, “You’re a frog.” Sylvan looked at him and replied, “Wibbit.”
My “first” grandmother, Sarah, who lived downstairs when we lived in Memphis before I was two, will really appreciate Sylvan’s latest pronunciation. He has used the word “down” for a while, pronouncing it with Chris’s and my broadcast news non-accent. But, in the past few days, he’s started saying “daa-uhn,” two syllables and all. I’m encouraging it.