Scotty Talks

Last night at the hotel hot tub, I asked a tweenage girl a question. She responded, but I didn't catch what she said, so I asked her to repeat it. So she did. And I still didn't get it. So we repeated the cycle. When I asked her the question for the last time, very boldly, clearly and slowly she said, "I NO SPEAK ENGLISH." I pointed to Scotty and said, "Neither does he." But that's not quite true. Look at all of his cute little baby words I get to hear amongst indecipherable baby chatter and screams:

Hi (first word)
Bye
Dada/Daddy
Mama/Mommy (new!)
Ball
Air-dee (airplane -- You know it's airplane because he also points his finger to the sky, even if he's indoors.)
Knock, knock (He heard Nicole and Grant laughing over knock-knock jokes and decided to give it a try -- seriously, that's how it happened.)
Too, too (choo, choo -- also new)
No (Conveniently means no and yes.)
Kitty (general word for all animals)
Meow (specific to kitties)
Fff, fff (woof, woof)
Grunting noises for cars or anything with a motor
Uh-huh
Uh-oh (always used appropriately -- I'm beginning to dread this word)
Die (high five)
Da-das (Ashes, ashes, we all fall down)
Ha (hot)
Cole (cold)
Co-cole (Nicole)
Bubble

I know I'm his mom, so I am [somewhat] biased, but I love Scotty's little baby talk. Equally as cute as his actual words is how he'll talk to anybody. He just starts up the monologue anytime someone gives him a stage.

Fall Road Trip: Snowflake, Arizona

Snowflake is a remote, miniature town four hours northeast of Phoenix where I believe it doesn't actually snow. We stopped at the temple for a break and some pictures. Believe me, it was the only thing worth photographing (besides the kiddos, of course!). We saw a sign advertising a small lot for sale at the steal-of-a-deal price of $67,000. Clint's like, "Who would pay that? There's nothing here!" But I digress. Here are the photos that made the cut.

Nicole is always picture-ready.

Grant is learning to smile for the camera.

Scotty can't resist a flower bed.

Mom loves tickling the "big kids."

A picture of Dad, Mom and boys, taken by Nicole. I can't decide if she wants to be a photographer, or if she's just dodging pictures herself.

Stories from the Road

We are three days into our 2000 mile journey across nine states, and we have a few stories to share so far (pictures forthcoming).

Scott
Scotty was seated next to Grant in the car when Grant fell asleep. Grant's head tilted to the side, and in range of Scotty's hands. Normally Scotty pulls Grant's hair. This time he patted it softly and said, "Kitty, kitty."

While waiting in line for juice at the hotel breakfast, a worker approached Scotty and told him, "Good morning." To the woman's surprise, Scotty screamed back at her. She then sympathetically said, "Is it too early in the morning for you?" Instead of saying his cute little, "No," Scotty reached out and slapped the lady. Embarrassing (for me, not Scotty). I apologized at least ten times while Scotty gave her evil eyes.

Grant
On the train ride from Durango to Silverton, Colorado, I instructed Grant to look for fish in the river as we passed over it. After several minutes of diligent searching, Grant reported, "The humans didn't put any fish in that water."

Fifteen minutes after leaving the hotel early in the morning, Grant asked, "How many more minutes until we can get to McDonald's?"

Nicole
At a restaurant in northern New Mexico, Nicole whispered to me, "Don't any peach people live here?"

Clint
Driving through a snow storm in Vail, Colorado on September 21st (Nicole's birthday, and technically still summer), Clint commented, "Global warming, my foot!"

Grant, A Budding Scriptorian

We read scriptures with the kids every day, and the past few weeks have been spent in the Old Testament. It never seems like Grant listens (at all!), but today he proved me wrong. I asked, "Who knows where our scripture storybook is?" I was surprised to hear Grant excitedly respond, "I do! I know where the Bible is!"

Since Grant "comes to school" with Nicole now, he eavesdrop on history. Unfortunately, he sometimes mixes accounts. Before introducing King Solomon, we recapped King David. Grant interjected, "Yeah, you can kill the German bad guy king (Goliath) by throwing a big rock at his head -- right here (points to forehead)."

A Hot Day at the Park

We Aren't Exactly Sportsy, If You Know What I Mean

We never watch sports at home. Really, truly never. However, that's not to say that we don't enjoy a live game from time to time. In fact, when Nicole was a new baby, we took her to a baseball game.

This past summer, Nicole and Grant participated in the library's summer reading program and won free tickets to a Diamondbacks game. Figuring we were overdue, we took the kids to the baseball game on Saturday. Even though we were warned that they weren't really a great team, we hoped the atmosphere of the crowd and the arena and the overpriced cotton candy would consume the kids (and us) and trick us into having a great time. The kids had been anticipating this game for a whole week.

We started off alright, with Nicole getting a pink baseball painted onto her face before we even entered the stadium. To keep the kids happy, we bought popcorn for Nicole and peanuts for Grant. In between wriggling off my lap and screaming, Scotty shoved the popcorn in his mouth and sucked on peanut shells. We also shared a hot dog, which ended with me being plastered in mustard.

At one point, during one of my wrestles with Scott, I heard the crowd boo. I leaned toward Nicole and asked if someone just got out. She replied, "How should I know? I don't know the rules of football!" At least she's not a boy, I thought, secretly hoping that no one around us heard her comment.

The team was failing miserably, with each inning more pathetic than the one previous. By the top of the fifth inning, we were out of snacks, and Scotty had waged war on his parents and anyone sitting close enough for him to throw a cup at. Clint excused Scotty and himself and wandered the "halls" while Nicole, Grant and I languished through the inning. On our way out, Grant said, "I no like this ball. I no want to come back, no."

In all fairness, Nicole felt like she was cheated a bit since she didn't get to finish the game, even though she understood none of the rules the way I explained them, and she repeatedly asked me which team we were rooting for. (Perhaps she was confused why we -- and everyone around us -- would root for the losers.) Outside the stadium, we ran into one of those exhibits that has balls going around an obstacle course for the kids to watch. All three were mesmerized, and Clint and I shook our heads as to why we even went into the stadium at all. After twenty minutes of ball watching, we pried Grant away, only to hear him say, "I want to go to this game again!"

Birthday Party Double Time

Since we're going to be gone on Nicole's birthday, and since so many extra cousins were in town, we piggy-backed on Sammie's 10th birthday at the bowling alley by celebrating in the evening for Nicole.

Aunt Shari hosted the swimming ...(These two will be life-long friends, no doubt. They crave each other's company.)

After swimming, we gathered for the only tradition we've been able to keep with some faithfulness: the birthday pinata! (Every since we started playing Webkinz, pinatas make me think of that little animal who says, "I'm an Olympic pinata burster." Every time we hear him, we imitate him, then we giggle hysterically. At least I do.)

Nicole picked this pinata, and it was HUGE! It also had a stronger Mexican theme than previous pinatas (pig, Sponge Bob Square pants, Scooby Doo, oh I can't remember them all!).
We always start the batting with the youngest baby and move up. This year, that meant Scotty swung first. Except he didn't actually get a bat. He hit it initially, just to get it away from himself, but he warmed up quickly and gave it a big hug.
I didn't get pictures of everyone, but here's Grant:
And almost-seven-year-old Nicole:
Already-been-seven-for-three-months Travis:
Never-too-old Quincy:
And unsuspecting Tommy (he came late, and we grabbed him for a turn before it there was nothing left to bat):
Once it started raining candy, Scotty fled. After the hoopla was over, though, he found one piece that the bigger kids missed, and he helped his little self to it (wrapper and all).
This pinata served a dual role as a candy holder and a hat rack.

Happy early birthday, Nicole!

Good Finds: A Game for Syllables

I thought Nicole could benefit from explicit instruction on the logic behind syllables. I found several websites that listed six different types of syllables. We started with the first one: Closed syllables. I suppose this is something I may have learned??? But I can't remember when, so it was new to me, too. Here it goes. A closed syllable is one that ends in a consonant and has a short vowel sound.

Here's how we made a game of it. I found about 20 objects from around the house that all contained closed syllables. I concealed them in a bag so that Nicole could pull them out, one by one, and guess what they were (with her eyes closed, of course). After the guessing part (that was just for fun and had no real scholastic value other than keeping the "game" going on longer than it probably would have otherwise), Nicole said the word and told me how many syllables it had. Then she broke the word up into the syllables (checked them by holding the back side of her hand under her chin as she spoke), told me if they were closed syllables or not, and then wrote the word on her paper under the corresponding vowel column.

Here's our list.
a
fab/ric
nap/kin
ap/ple
jam
rab/bit
bag

e
red
hel/lo (glove waving hello)
pen/cil
dress

i
fab/ric
nap/kin
rab/bit
clip (paper clip)
fish
pen/cil

o
block
dog
sock
clock
frog

u
duck
gun
un/der (wear)
truck
bub/ble
puz/zle
cup

It ended up taking around an hour to complete this "game," but it could easily be adapted to go longer or shorter, as desired. It was a fun exercise in spelling and pronunciation.

Scotty's Cell Phone

Tonight I put Scotty in bed with my old cell phone. He hasn't played with it hardly at all since we moved here (and I got my new phone). He was packing it around all evening like it was his little baby. I was reading to Nicole and Grant when Scotty started this horrific screaming. I imagined that perhaps he somehow got his head caught in the bars (impossible, yet the terror in his cry would have left no doubt). I rushed to his room and was relieved to see him standing up in his crib. I looked him over and could find nothing obviously wrong. He had giant tears streaming down his face, and I could tell he was very upset about something. Scotty then leaned over the side of his crib and pointed to his phone, which had fallen on the ground and out of reach. He giggled when I picked it up and handed it back to him. He squeezed it tight and patted it, just like he does when he gives us hugs. Now he could sleep.