Wordy

Ethan was pulling a little cloth wagon around the living room this morning. "Mom. You and me and Evan are at the ocean," he announced. He put some stacking cups in the wagon. "Here are some seashells." He held one up to his ear. "Can you hear the ocean?" I asked. "No! I hear a fish-star!" he said excitedly. "Wisten!"

His language has evolved again. Suddenly he can say Ay-gert instead of Egg-gek and 4-wheeler instead of foladohl. Everytime he drops a baby word, I worry that he won't sound cute anymore, but fish-star is plenty adorable.

Evan rarely uses words but manages to get his point across pretty well. He'll yell Mom or Dah when he's being ignored (which is all the time, you know), and often when Matt comes home he'll call "Mah! Mah!" excitedly as he races/stumbles/whatever to the door. He has very specific sounds- an angry oooh when he wants something Ethan has (by the way, that's a good warning to get out of the way of his teeth), a desparate ah-ah-baaaaaah when he can't get down from whatever deadly piece of furniture he has climbed onto, and sweet little ah-bah-goo-da noises when he's on my lap or playing on the floor. He also has assumed responsibility for any timers that go off. When the microwave beeps, he'll stand in front of it and bellow ah, ooh, ah! while slapping his thighs and pointing at it. Ethan used to run to get a hot pad when the oven timer dinged, but Evan doesn't seem to want to get it himself, he just wants to make sure everyone is aware that the food is ready. And good luck trying to explain that you just set the timer- you have to open the door and show him there is no food, then laugh at his disgruntled expression. Because, seriously, there are few things funnier than a mad baby.