Ewe Must Be Joking, Kid
Fun times at the ranch these days (by ranch, I mean a 33'X85' lot downtown).
Bit by bit, I'm learning to be the one who stays home with The Margo. Nutritionally, I've learned that more input means more output. I've learned that "take out all your clothes from your dresser" is a baby's equivalent of 52 Pick-Up. And I've learned that babies are learning all... the... time...
We went to the Agriculture Museum last... um... Friday, I think (days have very little meaning to Margo and I anymore, except that there are two days in a row that Mama is at home). If you are in Ottawa, the Farm is an absolutely amazing place to check out. Margo, though quite tired, was wide-eyed and silent the whole time. Checking out the cows eating in the cattle barn was a big one. She's seen tongues before, but none that are the length of her arm and come out to curl around hay to bring back to eat.
I did say that Margo was wide-eyed and silent, which isn't exactly true. For 11 months, we've been repeating potential first words. Donna and I playfully try to outdo each other trying to get her to repeat "Mama" or "Papa" back to us. This is likely confusing her, and her first word will probably be "Panama." The hours that we have spent recently running our fingers over the colourful "MARGO" letters on her door, slowly sounding out each component sound and pointing to the letters and then to her... yeah, all that has yielded nothing.
But a goat just has to !@#$% bleat twice, and Margo goes and answers him.
Good. Great. That's just great. I ask for Dr. Margo, medicine woman, I get Dr. !@#$% Doolittle, goat chit-chatter. Good for you. My daughter wants to talk like a goat, then maybe my daughter will get alfalfa for supper and clover for dessert.
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We've misplaced the camera battery charger, so no new pics of the babe until a replacement comes in. In the meantime, I'll describe her: she's about as tall as a large dog, brown hair, brown eyes, and bleats when in the presence of livestock.
- Michel
Bit by bit, I'm learning to be the one who stays home with The Margo. Nutritionally, I've learned that more input means more output. I've learned that "take out all your clothes from your dresser" is a baby's equivalent of 52 Pick-Up. And I've learned that babies are learning all... the... time...
We went to the Agriculture Museum last... um... Friday, I think (days have very little meaning to Margo and I anymore, except that there are two days in a row that Mama is at home). If you are in Ottawa, the Farm is an absolutely amazing place to check out. Margo, though quite tired, was wide-eyed and silent the whole time. Checking out the cows eating in the cattle barn was a big one. She's seen tongues before, but none that are the length of her arm and come out to curl around hay to bring back to eat.
I did say that Margo was wide-eyed and silent, which isn't exactly true. For 11 months, we've been repeating potential first words. Donna and I playfully try to outdo each other trying to get her to repeat "Mama" or "Papa" back to us. This is likely confusing her, and her first word will probably be "Panama." The hours that we have spent recently running our fingers over the colourful "MARGO" letters on her door, slowly sounding out each component sound and pointing to the letters and then to her... yeah, all that has yielded nothing.
But a goat just has to !@#$% bleat twice, and Margo goes and answers him.
Good. Great. That's just great. I ask for Dr. Margo, medicine woman, I get Dr. !@#$% Doolittle, goat chit-chatter. Good for you. My daughter wants to talk like a goat, then maybe my daughter will get alfalfa for supper and clover for dessert.
------------
We've misplaced the camera battery charger, so no new pics of the babe until a replacement comes in. In the meantime, I'll describe her: she's about as tall as a large dog, brown hair, brown eyes, and bleats when in the presence of livestock.
- Michel
This entry was posted
on Tuesday, August 14, 2007 at 1:15 p.m..
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9:24 p.m.C hildren will do that to you sometimes.
Maybe later on you won't be able to stop Margo talking.
Come on Margo make your parents proud.
You have been so good with so many things already, let's hear you say something.
11 months already, Donna where is that interesting letter to your daughter?
11:25 p.m.
Margo - September child with an Aries rising. Now that we speak the same language, Bleeaah, baby, bleaah.
Speaking of language, when your Tati Valerie was a little older than you. Actually a few years older, she asked your Grand-maman, "Maman, (cause that was her mother, not, well never mind the logistics.) She asked her mom, "Maman, un rire es-ce-que c'est en francais ou englais? " (Please excuse the lack of accents. I'm bilingual in laziness).
But getting back to the story...If memory serves me right, we all thought about it for about 29 seconds or so before providing her with an answer.Likely steeped with ripples of laughter. And if memory serves me right, she was slightly annoyed with our rigole. But that's an other story.
You will one day correct us all - ok maybe just me with all my gramatical errors. So don't fret if all that comes out of your mouth right now makes everyone scurry hurriedly to close any nearby gates or fences. Besides Daddy is a highly over-rated word anyway. Say "Taaati, taaaaatiii, taaaa"
Love you in goat language, love you in canada language, love you in people language and love you in no language.
Love Tati Julie
2:44 p.m.
Finally! Embarassing kid stories that don't involve me. It's nice to have the focus be on Val for once in the past 33 years.
2:24 a.m.
I'll get back to you shortly, Michel. ;- J
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