The other day I wrote about a Rose-ism, a funny misuse of language from my two year old daughter. Her use of “tastes like” is just one phrase among probably a thousand that she tosses around and approximates daily. When Rose talks, it’s like the contents of her brain are tumbling out, a random stream of consciousness.
I’m amused by her random rambling as I get ready for work in the morning. She’s often awake before her sisters and follows me around talking non stop.
Today she woke up and immediately asked if she could go play. I found her a few minutes later, picking up an abandoned drawing from the day before and a turquoise marker.
“You said I need a new paper,” she said to no one in particular as she trotted off to the playroom, towards the stash of plain white paper. “I can’t get two papers.”
She is back and laying flat on her belly in the middle of the kitchen, her one sheet of clean paper and her marker in hand. “This is where the big bad wolf goes. He said a bad word. I’m drawing…” She stops mid sentence to watch me adjust the thermostat. “Why are you turning the heat on? Oh. You’re about to blow up like a pancake…” What????
She pauses.
“Oh…the Lion King. Simba. Sky (she always calls Scar Sky) is the bad guy. The hyenas try to punch the daddy. Then he comes back in a second. Simba….I need to color.” This whole time, her marker is swishing away against the paper.
She continues. “So, last time I made a triangle. So…No. You’re about to eat the marker up-then I need to find a new one,” she barks at one of our dogs that happens to walk by her.
“Mom, I need a new paper. Pa-per. Pa-per.” Now she is singing as she heads back to the playroom.
Before I know it, she is back in the kitchen and has noticed that I am at the kitchen counter, quickly scrawling out every word she says, hoping I’ll get something good. “Mommy, what are you doing?” I tell her I’m writing and that must make her think of the night before, when we were at church as I struggled to keep her quiet, I whispered the story of The Three Little Pigs in her ear.
“Ok. You remember I was telling you a story. One time, there was a pig. His mom said to go to another house. I’m talking about bricks. Not straws.” Meanwhile, she’s back to drawing. Drawing and storytelling might be too much for her to do at once because the next thing she says is, “Last time, I drew a human. So let’s color this. All around a circle.”
“What song am I singing? ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUBWXY and Z. Now I know my ABCs. Next time won’t you sing with me?” Then she went right into Old McDonald.
My page is filled. I look at the clock. In about three minutes, I have captured a pretty good slice of Rosie talk.
Where There Is Joy 
Oh two and three years old are both a terror and a delight! This charming slice is definitely the latter.
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Oh my word! What a treasure to have! Hearing Rose’s chatter in this brief slice is so captivating, I could read and listen for a good while as her thoughts tumble out of her. Little people are truly miracle containers whose wonders spill out occasionally for us to notice and take in.
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Priceless! You need to save this for her to read when she’s older. I love how you capture your day-to-day experiences in these slices. I feel as though I know you.
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Your writings about your girls has been stirring dormant memories for me. I was thinking about how two-year olds string seemingly random thoughts together-“Is this the brain filtering and making sense of the hundreds of new words and concepts our little one is learning in a day or are these pieces of well-formed ideas from a previous life? I Maybe a bit of both.
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I really connected with the emotion and storytelling of your post. It brought me back to when my youngest was a little chatterbox. Treasure those times, it won’t be too long before their words become less and less. I long for the days when I didn’t say anything but “oh, really”, “uh huh” “wow”. Enjoy it, Mama!
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You paint the scene so simply. Her following you around and then plopping on the kitchen floor with her pa-per. This is also how we live as writers – right? Especially in the month of March – wide awake waiting for lightning to strike (that’ a Murray approximation there). I can also picture you at the kitchen counter scribbling away while Rose does her thing!
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It’s everyday and also so fleeting. Each day she grow a little more, gain a little more competence. A few moments with one child alone is so precious to them and to you.
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Love this! I did something similar when my kids were littles! You will cherish this in years to come! Capturing the words of a small child as language is developing is a joy to read! Singing “pa-per, pa-per” perfect!
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Don’t you just want to capture every single second of it???
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Hi! So good to reconnect in our March slicing! Such an awesome post. You captured her little racing mind perfectly. So much going on in there!
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Oh Rose! So chipper. I love when you share your girls little moments.
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Such an engaging and imaginative conversation! It’s amazing how kids can just bubble away and pretty much be their own audience! You’ve captured the moments so sweetly!
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I wish I wrote more down when my kids were young. I often find myself asking Al- What was the expression that Nolan used to say all the time or what did Maura used to call…. Love this!
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I can’t even choose my favourite part – I love it all. And I love the image of you, standing at the kitchen counter, capturing it all. Oh, this is a post to save and savour.
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Savor it all! Blink, and it’s over. I hate to be cliche but it is so dang true! Enjoy the ride!
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Such a cute story! I have a three year old myself and it sounds so familiar. So many little stories we’ll enjoy looking back on!
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I feel like I know Rose from these posts. This slice reminds me of one of my favorite books, Cherries and Cherry Pits. I’m guessing you know it. It feels like Rose already knows what Bidemmi knew, the natural connection between pictures and words and stories and friends. They’re all there together on the kitchen floor.
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Wonderful slice today! I love the way your capture your daughter’s voice and thoughts. I miss my son being a little two year old chatterbox.
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