Go Go Go: A Video

It’s been awhile since we posted a video, so here’s one of Lillian talking with her dad, Josh Denby, while hanging on a climbing rope.

The Windy Wind and Other Lillianisms

Yesterday was a wonderfully breezy soft spring day. Lillian delights in the feel of the wind blowing in her face: she laughs and shouts, “Windy wind!”

It is as if, to her, the thing (the wind) stands apart from its defining quality (windy). She will stand by a pool of water, put her hand in, then look sagely at you and say, “The water is wet.” The fact that this is so delights her, and she conducts experiments regularly to better understand the nature of things. (Her attempt to study the effect of milk poured on upholstery, though, did not seem to please anyone).

Also on the linguistic front, she now deigns to offer farewells to people when leaving. (She has for sometime offered farewells to inanimate objects of various sorts: “Bye park,” when leaving a playground, or “Bye, poops,” when … well, I’ll let you figure that one out). Her favorite valediction is “See you later, guys, later.”

Come On, Let’s Go!

One of Lillian’s new, favorite phrases is “come on, let’s go!” Here’s one of the ways it is used:

[Lillian approaches Grandpa sitting in chair]

Lillian: Grandpa sleeping!

Grandpa: um urg uff.

Lillian: Birds and doggies outside!

Grandpa: um urg uff.

[Lillian grabs Grandpa’s hand and shakes it vigorously]

Lillian: No sleepings!

Grandpa: Huh?

Lillian: Come on! Let’s go!

More Bows and Nefarious Plots

The Lilibug really wanted four bows in her hair Saturday morning, but her father and grandmother thought two was plenty.

At nap time, as she fought off sleep, they heard her say repeatedly “Oh, no!” followed shortly by “It’s okay, daddy.”

I think the toddlers are plotting to take over the world.

Chalk Talk: A Video

While Lillian’s Yia-Yia Nancy recovers from her recent thyroid troubles, Lauren Roesler, a friend of Lillian’s Uncle Richard, has been staying with Nancy and the irrepressibly talkative Lillian Grace Denby during the day (Nancy can’t drive or lift anything heavier than 10 pounds, meaning she can’t pick Lillian up).

Today, they got some sidewalk chalk and drew strange and mysterious signs and symbols on the front door step. When Lillian hands you something, it sounds like she says “Here ya go, daddy” even when she is handing something to her grandmother. I think, however, that we haven’t heard her quite correctly. I suspect she is making a subtle literary reference to the Beat poets of the late 1950s: I think she’s actually saying “Here ya go, daddy-o.”

Lillian Grace Denby: Beatnik

Long Week

What a week it was! My mother, Anne, had a scheduled knee replacement on Tuesday; we planned carefully, and had Lillian covered (thanks, Lauren!), and had carefully parceled out shifts at the hospital so no one would be too exhausted. But Nancy came down with something in her throat (not yet determined) and ended up in the hospital herself. So we had Anne at the Methodist Hospital and Nancy at St Luke’s. There’s a handy tunnel connecting the two, and it got a lot of use this week.

My brother David pitched in, and spent his off periods from school sitting with my mom (who is a difficult patient), and I stayed with Nancy, mostly (strolling over to see my mom a couple of times a day), while they pumped Nancy full of antibiotics, steroids and morphine, and did a series of tests (ending in some biopsies) trying to figure out what exactly was going on. (Results are due Tuesday). Some kind of infection is involved, and antibiotics and steroids have helped, but the doctors seem to think something else may be going on in or around the thyroid.

But, Nancy got released to home and bed rest today, and is happily ensconced there with cold soft drinks and an ice pack on her neck. I am spending another night at the Methodist Hospital, helping my mom, who is in rehab, and is a tad disoriented and anxious. Last night, I relieved David just in the nick of time for him to make the father-daughter dance with the lovely and graceful Miranda Graves at the Cotillion; and tonight, he and his intrepid son Nathan went with the Scouts to Corpus Christi to spend the night on the aircraft carrier Lexington.

On the way home today, Nancy and I stopped and visited with the talkative Lillian Grace Denby, whose word explosion continues. The names of colors and numbers and animals and more pour from her mouth. There are verbs and nouns and adjectives and phrases and (probably) stories and poems and jokes. Her grandparents Peggy and Keith were visiting from Huntington, and The Lilibug offered some of her famous dramatic improvisations. After several days in the houses of the sick, even just a few minutes of the Bug is a wonderful tonic.

Full of Words

Over the last several months, Lillian has been pointing at various things and having her companions name them. Apparently, she has been storing all those words up, and now she is full, and overflowing, and the words are coming back to us in an ever-increasing flood. “Trees” and “swings” and “little boys” and “puppies” and “rocks” and “water”; “sorry” and “uh-oh” and “wow” and “ready”; “let’s go” and “how about that” — and many more. And all said while she looks at you with a sparkle in her eye and a trace of a smile on her lips: she’s kind of a show-off.

Tomorrow, Lillian’s great grandmother Anne is having a knee replaced, so Lilz will be spending some time with Lauren and uncle Richard during the day while her grandfather gets to sit around The Methodist Hospital’s delightful waiting rooms.

Stomach Bugs

Since the Lilibug left the hospital in December, 2010, she’s only been sick a couple of times. Last night, she decided she’d see what she’d been missing, and succumbed to a stomach bug. About 8:30 her dad Josh called for help and Lillian’s grandfather drove over to Josh and Lili’s apartment. The evidence of illness was scattered throughout the kitchen and living room (none of the delicate little barfs of baby days for two year olds!) and dad and daughter had stripped off their sodden clothes and were sitting on a towel with a bowl and a barf rag.

Grandpa took over holding duties while dad put on some barf-free clothes and started to clean up. Poor Lili was not done, and continued to barf every five minutes or so, fortunately in progressively lower volume as the evening went on. Lili took another bath and went to bed. Grandpa stayed to hold bowl and barf rag and Lilz was sick off and on until 3 in the morning. Josh spent an hour cleaning and disinfecting, then washed a large load of clothes and towels.

Lillian got a delicious breakfast of grape Pedialyte, which so far has stayed down. She’s running a bit of a fever, so she is going to stay at home today. And she’s now running from the other end.

But her grandfather got a reward this morning: Lillian pointed to him and said “grandpa”.

Afternoon Musings: A Video

Lillian climbed to the top of the play structure built for her uncle Richard twenty years ago, and offered these meditations for the edification of all and sundry.

Climbing the Net

The last time Lillian and I went to the fire truck park over in Southside Place, she struggled on the climbing net. Today she went right at it as if she’d been doing it her whole life (all two years and five months of it). And today, she was full of words: she brought the dog bowls to me: “one bowl,” she said as she handed me the first, “t-bowls,” as she handed me the second. She pointed to her toes and said “toes”. She pointed to another kid in the park and said “little boy”. And there were more, though I am not a deft enough listener to catch them all.