The Great Communicator

Quinn is learning to communicate quite clearly. Developmental books we read talk about toddlers getting frustrated when their ability to communicate can't keep up with their understanding and desire to do so. With a combination of Quinn's inventive ways and some solid parsing by Bec, this doesn't seem to be the case for Quinn.

Example: Monday night we were all returning from a dinner out and Quinn was walking (actually running top speed for a lot of it). To keep him moving along, we focused on the fire hydrants along the way, and specifically the ones up ahead. He steamed around the corner of one building, and then looked around quizzically, and said "ennn see" and shook his head. "Ennn" has long been his word for "again" or "another"; 'see' was quite clearly spoken and is a word he recently learned so it seemed a reasonably surefire assumption; the head shaking was plain as day. After Bec and I looked blankly at one another for a second, feverishly trying to crack this word puzzle, Bec blurted out "'again', 'see', 'no'...we were looking for fire hydrants and he can't find the next one". We pointed out the hydrant, which was behind a telephone pole, and he checked it out briefly before we sprinted to the next one.

You still need a large helping of Quinn-to-English dictionary, but he can definitely get his point across. This is a real-life word game that's so much fun to play.

ERP

Quinn has really had an explosion of language learning lately. A new toy he has is a magnetic easel with letters and numbers. In conjunction with the easel, we dug out the Dr Suess's ABC book, which he now pays attention to with renewed zeal with the extra added context. We've started to teach him some letters. He can repeat them after us, but the only one he consistently gets right unaided is 'x' (which he says as "eck"). Still though, I'm impressed at how well he's doing.

For some reason, when he sees letters on something, he points at them, and says clear as day "E-R-P". We're not quite sure why he has glommed onto that particular sequence, but it certainly appears he's referring to letters when he does. Maybe he got into a Swedish keyboard or something. We'll have to write our own alphabet song I guess.

Flying Tackles And Other Nonstandard Affection Expressions

With strong doses of his dad's counterculturalism and his mom's whimsicalness, it should be no surprise that Quinn comes up with his own ways of doing things. And we don't discourage it much either, letting him mostly express himself in whatever fashion he desires so long as it's not offending anybody. Sometimes though, the things we bear and grin don't fall into the grinning and bearing category for all.

One way Quinn likes to express affection is The Flying Tackle. It even has verbal accompaniment now, with a spirited "Tack!" uttered as he flops onto you. Unfortunately some of his playmates don't quite understand this behaviour, and, lacking the requisite size that we have to muster as defence, especially don't appreciate the involuntary physical relocation.

Another affection manifestion is bossiness. "Up up up", he says, tugging a sleeve, or pushing/pulling, or thrusting a toy into someone's hand to play with. Bec and I giggle, accept our Assigned Toy and dutifully play. It happens less so with playmates.

Quinn's also a big hugger. Not with just anyone, but with some playmates that he sees regularly and has come to recognize and know. Perhaps a little oddly, it never seems to go well. Kids are either busy doing something or they don't want some drooly kid draping themselves into their personal space. Of course he's not so much into hugging those that thirst for it, like parents, grandparents, etc.

Showing all his toys to the object of his affection is one of his more effective tactics with playmates. However, it was less effective with Caitlin's dog (although he stands in for it bravely) and our cat (she just flees in terror at any sighting of him...).

Smiles and laughing at everything they do is also a good one.

It seems a shame to train some of them out of him, but I suppose imbuing him with the whens and wheres of things is a part of growing up. It just goes to show you, though, that unappreciated behaviours in those around you might have a different meaning than you think. The trick is to do the imbuing without becoming an 'unbuing' as the ability to feel and show affection is the most important thing of all.

Hootenany II

Quinn's Aunt Caitlin came over for a visit last weekend. At one point Quinn decided everyone should stand up and play, as is his wont, tugging on everyone's sleeves and saying "Up, up up". I grabbed my guitar and Quinn went to his musical instrument drawer and picked out some tambourines and shakers. We all marched in a circle around the ottoman, singing kid's songs. He was having a grand old time! As were we!

Aunt Caitlin decided to have a seat to take a rest. Well that simply wouldn't do. Quinn immediately ordered her "up up up". Little did she know this was Music Time Boot Camp! Up she got, and he went and got his piano and round and round we went some more. Quinn got his drum. It went on for some time before Quinn finally got a little tired of it. He wanted us all to keep going around in circles singing while he read some books but we weren't so much into that. Finally Aunt Caitlin, and the rest of us, got some respite! Hootenanying is hard work, especially under the strident guidance of our bossy little band leader.

Zap!

Quinn really laughs at some things now. He was getting a big kick out of Bec saying "Zap" tonight on the change table while the bath was filling. Flying bath toys, the Tickle Bird game, roughhousing; words like "zap" and "plop" and "kerplunk"; anticipation of snooshing, snorgling and zurberting; sometimes he just giggles at random things. His laugh is evolving too, with the early smiles and giggles morphing into full-on belly laughs and hearty chortles.

He has really established a solid frame of reference regarding the world around him, such that he recognizes when some things are unexpected and therefore (possibly) funny. He also recognizes the facial expressions and verbal tones that indicate we're "funning" with him. Best of all, sometimes he initiates it himself, with a "whap" on his own head or his mom's, or a "flop" on his dad on the floor.

A good sense of humour's an essential ingredient for a happy life. It looks like Quinn will be well endowed in that regard. Long live laughter!

Hockey!

I cut down one of my old hockey sticks to Quinn's size. We played around in the back yard pushing a soccer ball with the hockey sticks (I couldn't find the hockey ball or a tennis ball - hafta go digging for those). Quinn was a little interested but not so much into it - he's more interested in Calvin-ball type games (from the Calvin and Hobbes cartoon, games with wacky rules made up on the fly), but I suppose that's understandable at this early stage.

The next day we were outside again and the hockey sticks were still there, propped up against the deck. Quinn said "Hockey!" and I couldn't help but smile. We got a couple passes in before it went Calvin-ball again. I had so much fun playing the game growing up. I hope he enjoys it too. I also hope I don't force it too much. Really, as long as he doesn't become a Leafs fan I can probably tolerate any other hockey-related outcomes.

Bee-bee

I was laying on the floor with Quinn the other day and he pointed at my belly and said "bee-bee". I was a little concerned that he had mentally mapped by burgeoning belly to Bec's maternity photos that we talk to him about, and immediately swore off chocolate. After awhile Bec guessed he was saying "belly button" which is another popular topic we talk about even more. Whew. Chocolate habit reinstated (that wasn't going to last long anyway...).

Playing Flashlight, and other things

Quinn loves to play with the small collection of flashlights that I appear to have accumulated by the side of the bed. We turn off the light, lay on the bed and shine the flashlights all around. We trade. We turn them on and off. Bec comes in and we all have one. We shine them on our toes. We shine them in our mouths. We shine them on our hands. It's become a daily ritual of sorts recently.

Quinn's very interactive at playing many things now. We play trains, cars, walking sticks, kitchen, blocks, rings, music, ball, flying-tackles and flop. Flop was a little nerve-wracking there for awhile - he'd just suddenly fall backwards, assuming we'd catch him, and you really had to be ready. Eventually we began to identify the stationary wobbling that preceded it and began to coach it out of him. No harm done.

He's a lot of fun to play with now. What a great age.

Shoes

And so it begins...sandal season was coming to an end and Bec found his shoes for somewhere or other we were going. Of course they didn't fit. And of course these days it's not as simple as just buying another pair of shoes - it's indoor shoes and outdoor shoes and rubber boots and sandals and crocs and winter boots and...

I remember when I was a one-pair-of-shoes guy. I was a big dork but at least I was a low-maintenance big dork. I guess those days are gone now, and I guess Quinn will never know them. Oh well, at least Bec's a pretty frugal shopper and we have friends who also have several hundred pairs of kids' shoes that have been worn exactly three times, who we can beg and borrow from. Maybe I should buy stock in a shoe company...

Daddy! Mommy!

Quinn now says "daddy" and "mommy" in context and usually with great aplomb. And often to great effect too. The other morning I stumbled out of bed in the morning (of course long after Bec & Quinn had gotten up) and as I passed by his open door he says "Daddy!" and holds up a book. How could I refuse that? We sat and read books for half an hour. When I get home from work now I usually get an emphatic "daddy" too, which brightens my day. If Dale Carnegie thinks calling people by their name is a powerful tool in connecting with people, then I think a son calling his daddy or mommy is that times 10.

It also serves him well as a get-out-of-jail-free card when he's pushed his mother to the edge. Bec calls it the "I smile for you" approach that she apparently employed to great effect when she was a kid. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree I guess :) So far I'm liking these apples though, I hafta say.