mah puh-heese

Time for an Asher update.  I think about Asher reading this one day and just remembered that I needed to add a little more him to this month’s time capsule.

In college, my friend McGhee and I thought the line, “we can talk…or not talk…for hours…” from Best in Show was so funny (probably a you-had-to-be-there thing, but try tossing it around next time you have a potentially awkward conversation and it will make you chuckle.) and I find myself saying that about Asher quite a bit these days.

Because honestly, we can talk or not talk for hours, and yet it feels like we’re always talking with the little man.  Asher is parroting everything which is awesome and dangerous and pretty often really funny.  It was not quite as funny when I realized the other day that I had left my wallet somewhere which caused me to exclaim Oh Sh*t kind of loudly, only to have Asher look up from his cars and say it right back to me in his perfectly sweet little voice.  Oh s#&t indeed.  He hasn’t said it since, and you can bet your squeaky clean mouths that I haven’t either.  And actually, who am I kidding, it was pretty funny, if not a little shocking.  Lesson learned.

Some of the more PG and completely appropriate words that Asher is saying are…

Airpee for airplane of course.
day-cee-doh for Gracie Dog
Ah-bee-bur and Ah-sheen for Oliver and Austin, two buddies
Bussee for his favorite toy school bus
geh-gee-gah-gur for helicopter (he’s impressively commited to all 4 syllables of this word)
digg-ee for digger
eehs for eggs
deee!! for kitty
oh gosh for…oh gosh. That one is crazy cute
Nina and Bee-pa for my parents, Mina and Grandpa (Bepa is sticking)
mah puh-heese for more please, which is his answer whenever prompted to ask nicely
boo-gu-ree for blueberries

and it goes on and on.  We love this, of course, and as I mentioned before about Asher’s talking, we are always walking that line between adopting his adorable language ourselves, and making an effort to always say the correct word when using it ourselves.  He’s still a little slow on using multiple words at once (in a phrase/sentence) although his cuteness can melt the paint off the walls when he busts out the occasional ‘I love you’ (ah hee oooo) and despite how this all looks in writing, he’s surprisingly clear in his talking.  That sounds like something a parent would write, doesn’t it?  He’s clear to us…to the rest of the world it very well may sound like he has a gym sock lodged in his mouth.

What’s been the most surprising about Asher’s budding language is how bittersweet it is when he finally gets it right.  We’re so accustomed to hearing AIRPEE echoing throughout the house, that now when he says something that sounds much more like airplane, I find myself almost wishing to hear that little voice saying it his way a couple of more times.  This internal tug-of-war is a near constant phenomenon; this morning I watched as he climbed onto our once very tall bed all on his own and just as quickly eased himself back safely to the ground, and I felt that little internal ping, the little mama voice inside that lets out a little oh! when we glimpse the boy and not the baby.  At first I compulsively say, no! not yet! and then I chide myself with the reminder that this is what he signed up for, what we signed up for.

My stepdad always reminded me that I was ‘right on schedule’ as I argued my way through my teen years, explored wildly during my college years, and though he hasn’t said it to me in a while, I suspect that he’s thinking the same thing now watching me discover my way through the motherhood years.  When I was younger I instinctively found that phrase a little patronizing, but as I got older I started feeling very comfortable in the description because it meant that I was on track, and now as a mother, I don’t know that you can watch children and think anything else.  Asher is, optimally, right on schedule.  With his language, his boundary pushing, his growing, his peace making and sharing…thankfully in all of these things, he’s right on track.

But…oh!, you know?

ah hee oooo, my sweet little butterbean.  More than any words will ever do justice.