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Monday, May 6, 2013

Hate Crayons

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.

2 comments:

  1. I think time will teach him to not hate crayons. It's an acquired taste.

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  2. There 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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