Good gob

Carter's self-esteem is, in a word, sturdy. What can we say? We are fans, and encourage him all the time. But is it too much? Popular fiction author Jane Green claims that she would never have become a best-selling author if her British upbringing hadn't made her feel unimportant. The subsequent low self-esteem made her strive to achieve. Does this mean that Carter, whom I hear muttering to himself, "Good gob" when he accomplishes the smallest tasks: takes the milk carton out of the fridge, completes a Lego tower, picks the cats' food dish up from the floor and puts it by the sink... does it mean he won't strive? Or worse, that he will feel entitled? I prefer to think not. We'll have to wait and see. For now, I can't help but comment on the squiggles he makes when "signing" a birthday card for his dad, "Great job!"

Home

There is little more heartwarming than seeing the door to the garage being flung open by Carter from the kitchen, and hearing him shriek, "Mommy's home! Mommy's hoooome!" All this fanfare, when all I did was go to the grocery store.

But what's really funny is his notion of "home." His home is "home" for anyone coming here. It reminds me of a video I saw on language acquisition that showed that first, young kids define things in relation to themselves in funny cases, such as calling the "front" of a television whatever side was facing them, even if it was the back of the TV. Or calling a cup "small" for a twelve-inch doll, just because it was small for them (even when the glass was huge as far as the doll was concerned). So when the babysitter arrives, "Alyssa's home!" Or when my parents visit, "Grandma Carol and Grandpa Frank are home!" So cute, and so heartbreaking in a way... sooner or later, the little guy will have to learn that the world doesn't revolve around him. But how wonderful for him to have this brief period where it does.

Putting on them

There is a funny syntactic quirk of English: you have to be a full noun phrase (i.e. not a pronoun) to follow certain particles. So:

You put on the shoes.
* You put on them. ("*" = "not grammatical" in standard English.)
You put them on.

You picked up the book.
*You picked up it.
You picked it up.

Carter hasn't gotten this one down yet; he says things like "You put on them" all the time. (Only, he means "I [Carter] put them on", technically, because he still has "I" and "you" switched too...) I can almost see those gears churning in his active little head; many linguistic puzzles still to solve. In the meantime, a conversation about who is going to put on the shoes gets confusing fast!

Or...

Our little negotiator-in-training has a funny way of letting us know what he would like. He speaks in yes/no questions. When we ask him a question, he often proposes something different. To: "Would you like some milk?" He replies: "Or would you like some juice?" These exchanges happen all day long, to our amusement. "Do you want to go to the park?" Carter: "Or do you want to go to South Coast Plaza and ride the escalators?" "Should we read Library Lion?" C: "Or should we read The Cat in the Hat?" We ask: A future diplomat? Or...

Self

Carter is going through an independence spurt. For the most part, I applaud it; it will be great when he can dress himself, read to himself, pour his own milk. But until then, it leads to some frustration on both parts, as his face turns red, his arms flap, and he sputters, "Want to do it self!" as his arms get lodged further up the wrong hole of a shirt, or milk goes running, splattering, and dripping across various kitchen surfaces.

A little bit more

This is Carter's favorite phrase. Whether it's riding escalators, looking at fountains, or climbing ladders at the park, whenever it's time to go, he requests, as he did this morning at South Coast Plaza, something along the lines of, "Or do you want to visit the fountain a little bit more?" At least he's pretty reasonable when the answer is no.