Ezra has started to piece together words into simple phrases. For
example, the other day one of his favorite trucks got stuck under the
crib. He came to me earnestly repeating, "Truck, under. Truck,
under." It was magical--I knew what he wanted and how to help! He also
uses "Get me" or "Help me", when, for example, he throws Bear in the
bathtub or down the basement stairs and can't retrieve him.
His
nursery leader told us last week that Ezra is the star vocalist at
singing time, and often doubles as exuberant chorister. But, he could
care less about crayons; he his either eating them or throwing them.
After she left I turned to Dallin and said, "How do you teach your child
not to hate crayons?" Ezra, who was within ear shot, picked up on that
immediately, and said with a little grin, "Hate crayons. Hate
crayons." (sigh).
Yesterday, while studying the pictures
of the newly called members of the Seventy in the Conference Ensign, he
summarized their character in two simple words, as he pointed to each
picture, "Happy da-da."
And Ezra is our happy, talkie boy.
I think time will teach him to not hate crayons. It's an acquired taste.
ReplyDeleteThere was a period with both kids where when we'd go to a restaurant, we'd have to head the server off before the got to our table with crayons because the kids would just eat them. Outta sight, outta mind!
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