It's so fun to watch/hear language developing. I can't believe how many words and phrases Evan knows...but not quite. On one hand, I hate to tell him what the real phrase is- this innocence lasts only so long. On the other hand, I almost feel sorry for him not knowing what is really being said. I still remember finding out that 'bolleyball' was actually 'volleyball.' There's something sad about realizing that you've had it wrong all this time.
Here are a few:
We were out in the bush and Evan's sense of right and wrong kicked in. Indignant and slightly shocked, he exclaimed, "Eli! Someone glittered a pop can!"
On that same trip, we searched for mushrooms. When I found a bunch of them together, I said, "We hit the jackpot!" For the rest of the hunt, Evan ran around exclaiming, "It's the crackpot!" and "The crackpot trophy!"
Evan and I walked into a store. Some weird song was playing. He said, "I think I renicuz this song!" (recognize)
We were in the van listening to a CD. Evan was quite confused and asked for clarification on a line in the song. "Why are they saying 'lie to your cat'?" After a moment or two of my own confusion, I explained that the line was 'a light unto my path.'
And one last quote from Mr. Ev-
Kendall: "Why are you eating glue?"
Mr. Ev: (caught in the act) "Sowwy." (That would be 'sorry.')
"A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step." Lao-tzu
July 1, 2008
This journey so far has taken me one thousand and four miles from my hometown, but I’m having trouble putting my finger on the single step that began it all. Was it Monday afternoon at the border when they gave me my official document allowing me to pass? Was it Saturday morning when we started the car and drove out of Goshen in our funny little caravan? Was it in February when we came up to Red Lake for a job interview at the hospital? Was it two Christmases ago being up here with Kendall’s family and all of us rating our desire to live up here? (I can’t say my number on a scale of 1 – 100 was high, but it was the highest of all the in-laws, so I guess I’m the chosen one.) Was it three years ago almost to the day that Kendall first said, “What if we’d move up here?” (I tried to ignore that one for several months, thinking surely it would go away.) Or was it June 10, 2000 when I married Kendall and made some solemn promises before God and all these witnesses? Was it a night before Kendall and I were married when we talked about moving to Red Lake? (It was a far off and romantic possibility at that time.) Or was it living in and visiting different cultures at different times in my life? Could the first step have been when my parents brought me as a baby to this same area for a year of voluntary service? (Kendall wasn’t born yet, but I surely saw his parents as they chatted with mine from time to time.) What about when my dad lived on a nearby reserve for two years before he was married? Or when my mom visited this town with her family as a teenager? Or maybe it had something to do with choices my grandparents made? Or other ancestors farther back?
At any rate, moving into this house where I slept for a few weeks as a baby and where my dad stayed as a teenager, has made me very aware of roots. And how they affect our lives and choices and passions.
I suspect there is no single step that began our move a thousand miles away from Indiana. It seems, rather, to be a coming together of so many different factors. (Not the least of which is marrying a man who has taken this land as a very part of his being. And for all the ways I can tease him and get annoyed at some of his woodsman ways, I really do mean that in a reverent and respectful way.)
So here we are, a thousand miles from nowhere. (Oops…I meant a thousand miles from Goshen.) I know that we safely made the journey here, but mostly our journey is just beginning. And mostly I’m excited.
This journey so far has taken me one thousand and four miles from my hometown, but I’m having trouble putting my finger on the single step that began it all. Was it Monday afternoon at the border when they gave me my official document allowing me to pass? Was it Saturday morning when we started the car and drove out of Goshen in our funny little caravan? Was it in February when we came up to Red Lake for a job interview at the hospital? Was it two Christmases ago being up here with Kendall’s family and all of us rating our desire to live up here? (I can’t say my number on a scale of 1 – 100 was high, but it was the highest of all the in-laws, so I guess I’m the chosen one.) Was it three years ago almost to the day that Kendall first said, “What if we’d move up here?” (I tried to ignore that one for several months, thinking surely it would go away.) Or was it June 10, 2000 when I married Kendall and made some solemn promises before God and all these witnesses? Was it a night before Kendall and I were married when we talked about moving to Red Lake? (It was a far off and romantic possibility at that time.) Or was it living in and visiting different cultures at different times in my life? Could the first step have been when my parents brought me as a baby to this same area for a year of voluntary service? (Kendall wasn’t born yet, but I surely saw his parents as they chatted with mine from time to time.) What about when my dad lived on a nearby reserve for two years before he was married? Or when my mom visited this town with her family as a teenager? Or maybe it had something to do with choices my grandparents made? Or other ancestors farther back?
At any rate, moving into this house where I slept for a few weeks as a baby and where my dad stayed as a teenager, has made me very aware of roots. And how they affect our lives and choices and passions.
I suspect there is no single step that began our move a thousand miles away from Indiana. It seems, rather, to be a coming together of so many different factors. (Not the least of which is marrying a man who has taken this land as a very part of his being. And for all the ways I can tease him and get annoyed at some of his woodsman ways, I really do mean that in a reverent and respectful way.)
So here we are, a thousand miles from nowhere. (Oops…I meant a thousand miles from Goshen.) I know that we safely made the journey here, but mostly our journey is just beginning. And mostly I’m excited.
6 comments:
these are some great quotes! i think the "renicuz" one might be my favorite. :) remember when you wanted to teach your kids to say fla-ler instead of flower? :)
i miss you guys! love you!!
Those are great Karen... reminds me of what he said on the phone the morning of Eli's birthday. Since not all of his letter sounds are totally clear yet, it took me just a couple seconds to know I was hearing right... but he was going to get Eli on the phone too, and when Evan said "Go", I was to start singing "Happy Birthday". So that's what we did... only Evan was saying "go" at the same time Eli was saying "Hi Grandma", so Evan had to repeat his directive one more time, then we both sang for Eli, who is now 7! Love, Mom
They are so funny!!!! We miss you guys! Happy Birthday Eli!
I love these stories about these birthday boys! Wish I could come up there and have a birthday party with you!
My boys call instructions "constructions." I think I finally corrected it once, but it didn't stick so oh well.
From your posts, I would say Evan strengths may mimic his mother's (playfulness with language), and Eli's, his fathers (sensory intelligence)
That's my prediction.
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