Dominic is a bundle of words these days, and more and more of them are understandable. Like Ella, he’s a lover of books. He will spend an amazing amount of time focusing on a book, especially if it is a comic book with lots of detailed pictures. The way he focuses on it, he really makes you believe that he is seeing all the nuances and understanding the words.
We have this large preschool activity book that has several pages of detailed pictures where you have to search for objects. Even though he has done every page and circled every object, he still wants to spend more time going over the pages.
I have been putting him to bed for the past week because Nate is reading a chapter book to Ella. Two books is never enough for him. And he loves to read the same ones over and over again. He especially loves the books where he can find the little details of the pictures – like the insects on the ground. I’ll say, “Where’s the butterfly, Dom.” I hardly have the sentence out of my mouth, and he is saying, “I-don-know.” (He makes it sound like one word.) But the reality is that he often does know, and he’s eager to point it out. If I ask him what an object or animal in the picture is, I get “I-don-know” again, but it’s usually quickly followed by him naming the thing.
After we’re done reading, I’ll ask him to turn off the light. There’s a postcard of a pelican taped to the wall above his switch. He always tries to stall by pointing something out about the picture. “Oh, bird.” or “Oh, boat.” (There isn’t really a boat, but he likes to say that the spot where part of the picture was damaged in the mail is a boat.) The way he says “oh” makes it seem like he has just solved a complex math problem or figured out the answer to world peace.
As I’m hugging him and giving him a kiss good night, he says, “I wub you, Mama.” That usually makes me squeeze him a bit more and hold him a bit longer before putting him in his crib. He’s a crafty one at his tender age.
He always asks for songs, but I rarely understand what song he has in mind. Part of this is because he’s asking for the songs that Nate usually sings to him, and I don’t know those. He also sometimes points to something on the floor and tries to divert my attention. Then he reaches up and says “my hair” by which he means MY hair. He insists that I lean over the crib so he can have a hand full of my hair while I sing to him. How can I refuse?
After my back gets sore from leaning over the crib, I pull my hair out of his grasp and walk toward the door. I say good night, and he says “one mo song.” The slower and quieter I sing, the more he settles down, but that doesn’t stop him from protesting when I close the door a bit and walk down the hall. Sometimes, his protests are half-hearted because he’s so tired, and he quiets almost immediately when I say, “Good night, Dom” as I’m walking down the stairs. Other nights, his 5 or so minutes of cries are tough to listen to. Fortunately, they never last too long before he falls asleep.
I think bedtime is among my favorite times to be a parent.
