So, yes, I wasn't able to do this for a few weeks, and then the notion of trying to fill in All the Important Bits that happened in that month was too daunting, which of course kept increasing exponentially in direct proportion to the gap of silence. The archivist in me still thinks he's going to go through and do a series of posts by month to try to capture fragments of the intervening wonder, but, in the meantime and right off the top of my head, here is some of the fun we've been having with vocabulary, in a possible approximation of chronological order.
"You're welcome." - I think I mentioned that she picked up "please" in under an hour, in order to get what she wants. Little girl has never seen the merit in the flip side of that coin, the gratitude part, but now amuses herself by almost always saying "you're welcome" in place of "thank you." She gets it, just elects not to participate in the manner that has been suggested.
EX: "I want grapes." I bring grapes. "Cut them up!" I cut them up. "You're welcome, Daddy."
"Hold ya, hold ya." - This is another one, but I can't decide if she's flipping it on purpose or not. Translated as, "Pick me up."
"I want to go to Lubbock and tickle Uncle Brett." - This was the mantra for most of last December. Kid loves to tickle, be tickled, direct third parties to tickle other third parties.
EX: "Daddy, tickle Miller. Mama, tickle Daddy. Now, Daddy tickle Baby. Mama, Daddy, tickle Miller." Etcetera, ad infinitum.
(Too, she never actually laid hands on Uncle Brett during the holidays, after all the hype.)
"Excuse me." - This doesn't require explanation, but I can't describe how precious it is to be emptying dishes or folding clothes or some such, and then feel a little hand on the back of your leg and hear that voice say those words, she needs to get by to get on to the next thing.
"I didn't like it." - Uttered after giving something like zucchini or squash a fair shot, always accompanied by a shake of the head, usually along with offering up the partially chewed item, in case anybody else might not feel the same way.
(BONUS ANECDOTE: A couple of nights ago, we were all eating this pasta tetrazzini recipe that Catherine found somewhere, which was delectable except there was no meat, but the kid was going to town on the pasta, to the exclusion of everything else. She wouldn't even try the zucchini, and kept calling for more pasta. Finally, Catherine brought out the old bit, "If you have a bite of this, I'll get you a bite of that." So, quick as a wink, the kid puts a piece of zucchini into her mouth. Catherine gets up, goes over to the pot, and takes out another couple of pieces of pasta, puts one on Miller's plate. Miller spits the zucchini out into her hand, puts it on her plate, and pops the pasta into her mouth with a huge grin at the trick she has played.)
"Rock and roll!" - Usually hollered while trying to break the mounted motorcycle at the park off of its spring by rocking it forward and backward as hard as she can. Or standing at the foot of her friend Jubilee's bed with her hands on the footboard (backboard? the opposite of the headboard) and banging her head, again, as hard as she can.
"Have a good meeting, Mama." - In parting to her mother, who was on the way out the door one morning last week.
"I have superpowers, Daddy." - Said to me with a grin last week before she climbed over the edge of the couch and jumped down onto the trampoline sitting next to it. I kind of want to get rid of all the capes and ladders everywhere now.
"I can't find my cane." - The predicate is interchangeable, but she'll wander around, narrating what's going on with the strong implication that maybe everyone within earshot should pitch in until we get the matter resolved. The back end of this is, "I see my cane . . . right over there!" with that last phrase in a pretty fair Queens accent. "Ovah theyyyaaaahhh!"
"I want Daddy to sit right here, read Miller Tiny Titans, no cuddle up." - She said this last week, patting her hand on the couch to show me exactly where I should park it, while waving around the particular issue that we were to read and expressing a desire that I should not put my arm around her or make any movement in her direction or attempt at conversation of any kind, just read the dang book.
"Too tired to run." - Sometimes said on the way back from the park, walking or usually being held, about thirty minutes away from NapTime.
"Gotcha!" - Taught her to play tag yesterday. Too much fun.
And all of these are from today. She came rolling in the room this morning with some water cup that had been poured yesterday or the day before and then hidden somewhere, about to drink it and I said, "Where'd that come from?" took it away, and got her a fresh one. Since then, every time she sees a bottle of milk or whatever, she holds it out and says, "Where'd this come from? Where'd THIS come from?" working herself up into minor hysterical giggling.
Gave her a peanut butter bagel for lunch. She's in the kitchen working on that, I'm at my desk typing. She walks out of the kitchen with her cheeks puffed out from the last 25% of bagel and says, "I wa'. Mo. Bagl." So, I hook that up and she swivels around in her chair, holds her hands out at me, palms up, and says, ever so casually, "Maybe some blueberries? And some nana?" Yeah, maybe so.
We were at the park and she likes it when she goes down the little slide and then watches me come down the big slide. There are two ways up the playstructure, the easy way and the hard way. After a slide, I'm following her up the hard way and she turns around and says, "No, go the other way." "It's cool, I'm right behind you, let's slide." She makes it up to the top, turns around, puts her palm in my face and yells, "(s)Top, I want Daddy to go other way! Right nooooooow!" This last, again, in the Queens accent, accompanied by frantic hand gestures in the direction of the alternate passage.
I did what she told me.