I Can't Benemba Lasterday

Of all the reasons I wish time would slow down, all the precious pieces of my son's childhood that I wish I could preserve like mementos that can be taken out and viewed at will, one of the biggest things is his speech. I don't know why, but nothing else endears me to the wonder of each stage of his life thus far like the words he either mutilates in adorable toddler fashion or nails unexpectedly.

I've called them Drake-isms, and I meant to write more down.

Each hit me as being so uniquely adorable, I ensured myself that there was no way I could forget them. "I'm definitely going to remember that," I would think. "That's one of those moments you just don't forget."

I forgot.

I remember thinking that I would not forget, but I have no idea what I thought I was going to remember. A glance back through this blog recently taught me just how much I have forgotten already. I read multiple posts in which I professed things like, "It will go down as one of the most precious moments of my life, and a memory I will cherish always." And up until I read the post, I had exactly zero recollection of the event.

Ugh.

So I'm not making any promises. I won't swear that I will document every single one from here on out. I've set myself up for that failure a few too many times. But I am going to write about some of the most current ones - right now, today - and if nothing else, at least I will have captured those.

One of Drake's go-to phrases right now is, "I can't benemba." Which, if you can't tell, means, "I can't remember." He uses it for everything.

"What did you do at school today?" "I can't benemba."

"What did I just say?!" "I can't benemba."

"What would you like to eat?" "I can't benemba."

"Why did you do that?!" "I can't benemba."

Listing it like this makes it sound annoying, and at times, I suppose it is. Usually, though, it makes me giggle inwardly at his uniquely "Drake" way of saying things. Picture it with downcast eyes and the slightest shrug of a single shoulder.

Another favorite is "Lasterday," which means, "absolutely anytime that came before this exact moment." It could be last night, it could be last week, it could be at his birthday last month, it could be last Summer when we visited Uncle Trevor's farm.

"I brushed my teeth lasterday!"

"I was three lasterday, and now I'm four, and tomorrow I will be five!"

"I saw those baby chicks at Uncle Trevor's farm lasterday."

The last I'll list for today is "A little help here?!" This one can be a little maddening, as he says it anytime he is asked to do something for himself.

"Drake, take off your boots please." "A little help here?!"

"Drake, pick up your toys please." "A little help here?!"

So yeah, maddening. But also, so distinctly him. Do I wish he would find the drive to accomplish tasks that most kids are stubbornly insisting on doing for themselves at this age? Sure. But is that about the cutest thing he could say when he feels like he's not capable of something? Yep.

Ok, with those things safely recorded on the world wide web, I'm going to go cuddle him on the couch and crochet while he watches yet another episode of Little Einsteins.

Sweet Dreams

Wake up time may vary, and Drake can wake up in a variety of moods, but one thing about our morning routine has been consistent for close to a year now. Since Drake started putting together phrases and short sentences, our first exchange of the day has gone like this:

"Liiiitle Muuuunchkiiin..." as I peek around the door to greet him in his bed. Drake bounces on the mattress, clinging to the red railing and smiling behind his binky. "Good morning my handsome Little Man."

"Moneen, Mommy."

"Did you sleep good?" I ask, as I lift him out of his bed. He wraps his legs around my waist and lays his head on my shoulder, nodding.

"Mm, hm."

"Did you have sweet dreams?" I ask, carrying him to the couch for our morning cuddles.

"Mm, hm."

"What did you dream about?" And then this is my favorite part...

Every day, for who knows how many months now, Drake has responded the same way. "I dweam," he says between yawns, "in my bed."

And that's it. That's all I get. I still have no idea what it is my Little Man dreams about, but there can be no doubt that he does so in his bed. 

Drake-isms

"Weeett's DO it!" 

Usually accompanied by a hooked arm/hoe down/fist pump sort of gesture. That's "Let's do it!" with all sorts of two year old emphasis, for those of you who couldn't tell. Similar phrases currently in frequent use: "Wet's go fine it!" and "Go fo it!" So far, I've had zero luck capturing any of them in video, so you'll just have to trust me that it's pretty stinking cute.