So they say...

I read an article yesterday morning called "Little Big Moments" in the November issue of Parents magazine.  "Birthdays and graduations tug at our heartstrings.  But many other smaller milestones touch us in ways the big events sometimes don't," the article begins.  It then goes on to touch upon some of those milestones, such as a child's last night in the crib and when a mom has nursed for the last time.  I remember that one being big for me, especially because with both of my children I had no idea the last time would be the last time until it was already over and they refused to nurse ever again.  It was probably better that way, because although I was quite ready to have my body back, as any mom who has ever nursed can attest, it is a pretty special thing.  So, had I known that the last time would be the last time, I may have cried through the whole thing.  Or something. 

This article also mentioned "when they outgrow their cute little sayings" as a little big moment, and it reminded me of a conversation that I had Saturday with another mom at a birthday party.  The conversation stemmed from Cortlan being so excited that there was a "kinada" at the party, and me reminding him for the thousandth time that it is called a pinata.  "Oh, yeah.  Pinata," he replied, also for the thousandth time.  The other mom then told me a story of her daughter not being able to say "outside" and how one day she started saying it correctly and that they have never heard that cute pronunciation of outside again. 

For Cortlan, pinata isn't the only one.  He says "ginore" instead of "ignore."  And words that rhyme with door (like floor, more, store, and ignore) all rhyme with fur, or stir, when he says them.  He says, "May you please turn on the light" (or get me some milk, or whatever it happens to be that he wants you to do for him) so often that I forget it isn't right and that he should instead be saying "Can you" or Will you" instead. 

Everly is only two and a half, so a list of her cute pronunciations would fill the page, but some that I would love to hold onto include the way she talks about her "brudder Tort" (brother Cort) and how she sometimes asks him, "Whatsa madda, buddy?"  And the endearing way she says mama when she is trying to be sweet (mommy, or even mom, at all other times).  She also says things like, "You wanna heeya bout my day?" as we ride home from school or sit at the dinner table, and then she tells us everything, including that she tried to bite her "fren at skoo".  In public restrooms, she always asks about the toilet first: "Izis my size?" And she tells everyone who will listen what she is going to be for Halloween - a "jagin" (dragon). 

I am not the best at remembering to video (in fact, I took the video camera to the pumpkin patch the other day, carried it around the entire time, and totally forgot to use it), so writing this blog has to suffice for trying to preserve the memories.  I just wish I could have a little recording of every one of them, because it could be that Tort has already said kinada for the last time.