Mary Lynn (the fabulous, the flawless, the freakin' amazing Mary Lynn) just posted a lament for her daughter's disappearing baby vocabulary, which set off a mindstorm of memories and the kind of nostalgia that makes me very bitter because it makes me realize that I am, in fact, just a big fat mom cliché (I remember one of my smug, skinny high school friends as we sat in the downstairs school hallway and watched a very pregnant teacher chugging past. The skinny friend said with a sneer "I'm not going to waddle like that when I'm pregnant". Oh right, pregnant women waddle because they want to, not because they're trying to balance a watermelon on their pelvis without falling on their face).
When Angus was little, he referred to himself in the third person for a while, as many kids do. Then he modified it to "A" (the letter A, rhymes with hay), instead of Angus. His most common utterance, when we were trying to wrest control of his utensils or toys or anything, was "A do it!" He would also say things like "the water was falling on A's head" and "that's A's hat". When I did the laundry I would usually give him a basket of receiving blankets (which we used for everything from kleenex to spill-wipers) to 'fold'. Once we were doing this and he said something about "my laundry". I dropped the pillowcase I was folding, stricken, and said "You mean A's laundry?" and he looked at me pityingly and said "no. MY laundry." Oh FINE -- speak correctly if you must. I was devastated.
When Eve started saying Angus's name she couldn't make the 'n' sound, so she called him 'Agus'. It was very cute. We just got used to it, and then suddenly one day when she was around four, I said to Matt "hey, she's saying his name properly". They were sitting out on the front step eating freezies, and when she came in to throw out her wrapper Matt said "Eve, say Angus". She said "what?" and he said "what's your brother's name?". She looked at him oddly and said "Angus". Then she walked outside and said to Angus "your Daddy just forgot your name."