"Can you do me a favor?"

For the 11 years that I have known Tom, we have been mindful of how we ask each other for help.  I can't even remember how long we've been doing it, but to maintain respect of each other's time and efforts, I have always asked, "Can you do me a favor?" before asking Tom to do something for me-- particularly when it's something I could fairly easily do myself (but which is more convenient for him).  Like getting a new bar of soap when I'm already in the shower (because I always forget to check the soap status beforehand).

So, when my daughter started prefacing her requests with the same statement-- "Hey mama.  Can you do me a favor?" (It sounds like "fever" when she says it)-- I found it very difficult to contain my amusement.

She is so perceptive.  And she's a little parrot.  If you ask her what her mama's name is, she won't say Pam.  She says "Ham."  Because that's what she's always heard her daddy call me.  And the day she told me to "calm it down, mama," I almost lost it.  (Tom's been saying that to me for years-- minus the mama part.)

These phrases and statements are part of the fabric of our marriage.  We're so used to them, we don't even hear them anymore.  It's just the pattern, it's just what we say.  Until we hear them coming out of Emmy's mouth.  Then I hear it.  And it's surprising, and amusing, and sometimes a little bit jarring to hear these things anew.  It reminds me how much of us will be in her forever and ever.  It reminds me how much of my parents I carry around, without even knowing that I'm doing it.

So, when I get in the car with my little girl and say "home again, home again," and my husband chimes in and says, "jiggety jig," I think of my mom.  And when we pull in the driveway and Emmy says, "now home," we think of Tom's mom.  And hopefully, someday, when Emmy's driving her own daughter around, she'll find herself saying some little phrase and think of me and her Dad.

In Anticipation

Emmy is very excited about our upcoming trip to the beach.  Everyday, she asks, "Are we going to the beach, tomorrow?"  And we've been trying to contain her eagerness-- saying, "No, honey, not yet."  Unfortunately, since Emmy doesn't really understand time-- ("tomorrow" is all future events and "yesterday" is all past events) it's been difficult to explain that we're going "next month," or "later this summer," or even in "two more weeks."  But, now we're finally under 7 days, so I think we might actually be in small enough units that Emmy has some understanding.

Last night, when she asked if we're going to beach yet, I told her, "Five more days, sweetie.  You go to school for five days, then we go to Grandma's house Friday night, then we go to the beach on Saturday."  I paused, holding up five fingers.  "Can you count to five?" 

To which she responded, "I don't want to count to five, mama."  As if she just couldn't understand what I was thinking.  She's asking about the beach (the beach! mama) and her mom wants her to practice numbers.

Missed Updates from One Year Ago

I found a post-it note on my desk last week with several notes about posts I wanted to write-- and thankfully, I dated it.  The date was May 23, 2012.  There's a post from May 23 on the blog, where I hit the first few bullet points, but I never got around to the rest.

Even though they're a year old, I think they're still valuable memories, especially in light of the differences between then and now.

One day last year when I picked her up, she told me that she had gotten in trouble, and when I asked her why, she told me she had hit another little girl.  This was the first time she self-reported bad behavior.  I remember thinking how remarkable it was that with her limited vocabulary she was able to tell me what happened, and I thought it was a mark of our good relationship and developing moral system that she told me about it.

Also, around this time last year, she started talking about Grandma, Grandma and Grandpa, and Patty and JP.  (I think she might have still been calling her Pat-Pat, which I was really hoping would stick, but alas, it's just "Aunt Patty" (and JP).)  This was the point at which she understood that they had titles, were separate people, and that Grandma (Tom's mom) was separate from Grandma and Grandpa (my parents), and that Patty was associated with Grandma and Grandpa-- AND that JP was associated with Patty.  Very complicated for a 2 and 1/2 year old.

She also had just learned what a siren was, and every vehicle that passed us with a siren blaring was automatically a "fire truck."  (Still is.)

Lastly, about a year ago, she had just started playing with the ipad.  She started with a simple coloring program that allowed her to swipe colors across the screen.  Now, barely a year later, she is, I think it's safe to say, an advanced user.