radegund: (swans)
Now I know why I'm so hungry.

The Feaster has had so little solid food this week (see under: winter vomiting bug - better now) that he has reverted to producing breastmilk poo.

Ah, smell-memory!

(Please send calories.)


Dec. 11th, 2009 02:05 pm
radegund: (swans)
The Feaster is TWO (and six days, because I'm disorganised like that).

We had a lovely party, with balloons and cake and popcorn. None of the other children we'd invited were able to come, until the 12-year-old and 9-year-old turned up in the early evening. But that was fine - he had plenty to take in, what with all the adults and the rain of presents, so it might have been a bit overwhelming if there had been half a dozen toddlers there as well.

He is so not a baby any more. His language has exploded recently: he's doing lovely syntax like "my hat came off" and "wh'are you, bear? a' can't see-um! oh! there you are!", and he's started to ask "what's that?" and "why did you say [x]?" (just like his brother).

To start a race, he says "sadie, sadie, go!" He counts up to ten (fairly accurately), then says "ready or not, here I come!" (not quite as clearly as that, but he hasn't said it today so I'm not sure of the precise pronunciation). When the Oyster and I were discussing infinity the other day, the Feaster piped up with "to i'windy ... a' beyond!"

He's also in the process of dropping his daily nap. This is excruciating. But it will be over soon. Won't it?
radegund: (swans)
From the Pen of the Oyster

The Oyster is mostly writing books these days. He's still really into the logistics of book production: to the existing panoply of detail (page numbers, contents pages, barcodes, blurbs, etc.), he has added a full-scale copyright page, with the publisher's name and address, copyright statement, rights statement, and printing details. He also sometimes adds a dedication.

He asked me (ages ago) what he should call his publishing company. I suggested Oisín Books. he thought for a moment and said, "No - Oisín Lots of Books", which is obviously much more accurate.

He rarely finishes books, but today he did one for his aunt, who was coming for dinner. It's called Adventures, and comprises six somewhat gnomic stories, as follows:

1. The Princess and the Dragons
A porcupine set out, and he found a palace where he brought back a princess to Dragonland.

2. The Chocolate Tower
Once there was a carpenter who built a chocolate tower. He didn't want a monster to get it, so he sellotaped the monster's feet to the floor.

3. The Antelope
There was an antelope who invited a girl to her home. They had a lovely time there.

4. The Bad Dragon
There was a dragon behind the door. A knight slayed him.

5. Monster Oisín
A monster ate Oisín! But his Mama saved him.

6. A Bucket and Soap
There were two brothers. They made a mess. They cleaned it up.1

The blurb on the back: Read these stories.

His writing is getting quite precise, although he does like to work quickly, and practises dashing off the letters with a careless flourish. He also likes playing with typefaces, though: sometimes he'll go a day or two putting serifs or curls on everything. He likes initial drop-capitals too (the more lines they span, the better).

He is - and this is pretty exciting - beginning to concede that he can read. A little bit, anyway. Tonight we took turns, page by page, with Meg and Mog, and he did really well. He gets enormously frustrated when he feels he can't do it. He wants to be the best reader in the werreld.

1 Entirely fictional, alas!

From the Mouth of the Feaster

The Feaster's language continues to explode: he's now doing big beautiful sentences. "We a-going on a train!" he said, over and over again, on Sunday as we travelled home from Sligo.

He tells us where he wants to go ("diffway", or perhaps "sofa"), how he wants to get there ("a carry-oo" or "hand"), and what he wants to do when he's there ("muk" [milk], or perhaps "a-watch a-Woddy a-Buzz a-ta'vishin" [O got Toy Story for his birthday]). He commonly greets [livejournal.com profile] niallm when he gets home from work with "It's a Niall!" In the past few days he's learnt "I want" and "I like".

The fluency deserts him when he's upset, mind you, and he's reduced to "Not!" or "Not-a-ahhh!". When greatly moved, he falls back to the ultimate negative, "No, go 'way!"

He likes being cuddled and told he's so lovely - "so yoffy!" he exclaims back. At bedtime he likes "suguss a-cudduss a-muk" [snuggles and cuddles and milk].

Comparisons are, of course, odious, but I'm pretty sure his enunciation is much clearer than the Oyster's at the same stage. He goes for full words (rather than just the start) and seems to self-correct fairly quickly, where the Oyster held onto his original versions for longer (still does, in some cases). I wonder if this has to do with the fact that the Feaster appears to be more musical than the Oyster.

Because of the quick correction thing (oh, and the chaotic-squalor thing), we haven't kept a diary of the Feaster's language the way we did for the Oyster. Typical parents-of-second-child behaviour, I suppose. I kind of regret it - but it's also true that his words change more quickly, and people can understand him better, so it'd be less immediately useful.


Jun. 13th, 2009 10:05 am
radegund: (swan-head)
Game yesterday afternoon was running around our local green space being a dizzying series of superheroes (e.g. one called Peter Zoopy, which I think is a fabulous name for a superhero), villains, henchpersons, guards, etc.

Oyster: Now I do an evil laugh, like this - henh henh henh.
Mama: You dastardly villain! *runs away*
Oyster: *gives chase* Seize her!
Mama: You'll never get away with this!
Oyster: Oh yes I will, you big hairy fluff!
Mama: *is reduced to helpless giggling, which allows the villain to catch up - good strategy, that*

The Feaster is talking a blue streak these days. He can say "tractor" (dada) and "car" (gaah) and "dragon" (dghii) and "donkey" (dahgii), and I'm pretty sure he said "other" (adah) this morning, meaning "other side [i.e. breast], please". When we emerge from the present chaos, we'll put up a list on the kitchen wall, like we had for the Oyster at the same stage.

They're awfully nice, you know. Here, look, I'll show you:

Photos of their respective gloriousnesses )

And finally, just because I think this deserves a wider audience (ooh, get me), here's a sticky-tape picture that the Oyster made in our holiday house at Easter. He came up with the technique himself, as far as I know. Giraffe, see?
radegund: (stone-sparkles)
1. The plumber got the boiler back up on its feet today. Can haz heating! Yay! Apparently it cut out because of an airlock, and it's not 100% better - he'll be back tomorrow to clean out the pump.

2. The Oyster does quality mondegreens: today he sang the chorus of "I'll tell Ma when I get home" as "Cheese handsome, cheese pretty, cheese the belle of Belfast city". I had to stifle my giggles. (He still plays hide-in-the-sink, although I suppose it's only a matter of time.)

3. Two frequent themes from our games at the moment:
    (1) the Oyster is an alien / monster / wild aminal who arrives in our house from his werreld. My role is to look beyond his aggressive facade and recognise that he wants to make friends. He then asks if he can stay with us, and I enthusiastically welcome him. He asks "So, do you like me so far?" quite a lot.
    (2) the Oyster is a superhero (more coping with non-omnipotence, I'm thinking). Yesterday he was Superhero John Murphy, who wore a big pink super-cape (OK, bath towel), and could run, jump, and fly. He asked, "So, are there any problems you'd like me to solve?" I said I wasn't too impressed with the current government, which prompted a long discussion about economic policy, voting, etc. John supports rich people sharing their money with poor people, and he's going to make a machine that will make money so that everyone can have as much as they want. Each rich person will give some money to a poor person that they know (we didn't ultimately resolve the issue of rich people who know no poor people and poor people who know no rich people). It's important to remember that if the government give all their money to the poor people, then they will be poor themselves. Taxes may help with this, although I'm not entirely sure that the concept was grasped. John will run for election. His posters will show a picture of him in his super-cape, with a slogan that makes it clear that he can fly. But he can't make people vote for him: they have to decide for themselves.

4. Huge roadside sign on the way to Castledermot, Co. Kildare:
Fed up renting? Own "YOUR HOME" from just €720 per month.
Gotta love those quotation marks!

5. The Feaster is talking a blue streak. Most of what he says isn't English, nor close to it, but he clearly knows exactly what he's saying. He addresses us solemnly, using syllables and intonation and everything, then waits for a response. It's KILLINGLY cute. (Actually, it's very like the language of Boo in Monsters, Inc.) English words we've positively identified include (in no particular order):

- there (deh)
- that (dah)
- there [he|she|it] is! (dehhh-iziz, often with a beautiful baby top-note on the first syllable)
- cow (a very rapid d-gw, possibly for "the cow" - haven't heard it in a good while)
- moo (bvvvvv)
- train (day or tay)
- Mama (mama)
- bread (debd)
- cracker (gah-goh)
- potato (duh-duh, just this evening)

He also uses annann to mean "food" or "food I want RIGHT NOW", and he has a word meaning "breastmilk" that I've yet to pin down. It's something like dez, I think.

He seems hugely amused at the whole language gig, which is delightful.


radegund: (Default)

September 2013

22232425 262728


RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags