Two and a Half Times Two-hundred

The older Sebastian grows, the more brilliant he proves to be. When Sebastian first started walking at eleven months, my dad would comment how incredible his balance and leg control were. Most people watch a walking toddler and see an expected milestone; he saw a miracle. That's sort of how I view speech and language. Sebastian, at two and a half years, is able to communicate nearly anything he wants. If he doesn't know the word, it usually takes just one time of hearing it to be able to use it correctly.

In the past six months, Sebastian has dramatically increased his vocabulary and phonemic inventory. Linguists estimate that toddlers know roughly five-hundred words. Since that's more than I'm able to document here, I'll just write up a few of my favorite Sebastian speech examples.

Turbines
As I mentioned, it rarely takes Sebastian more than one time of hearing a word to get it. For example, as we were driving through the Oregon countryside, we saw many large, industrial wind turbines. (I would have called them windmills, but Curtis promptly nipped that improper term in the bud.) Sebastian, having never seen these before, called them "airplanes." First of all, what an incredible association. Second, after Curtis said, "Those do look like airplane propellers, Sebastian! But those are actually called wind turbines. They look similar, but they generate power instead of fly in the sky." Then we hear Sebastian say turbine over and over and over . . .

Cold
One interesting thing that Sebastian is obsessed with is the cold. In fact, he won't tolerate anything else. I'm not exactly sure when it started or what prompted his aversion, but within the last few months, Sebastian has requested that we freeze his food. Follow me, now . . . I'll prepare a hot meal, because hey, we enjoy hot meals in our house. So we'll place a plate of steaming food in front of Sebastian, and he usually exclaims, "Make it cold first!" So we have to put it in the freezer. If we try to just blow in it, he'll remind us, "No! Freezer!" So there we have it. Cold water to wash hands, cold water to drink, cold food to eat. Naturally he loves ice cream. Sometimes I won't bother reheating leftovers, and the way to entice him to eat lunch is to remind him that it's cold.

I Basin
The other day, a woman asked Sebastian how old he was. We haven't really practiced this question yet, but I guess we need to because apparently it's all people know how to ask a toddler. She asked him, "How old are you, cutie? Are you three?"
Sebastian shook his head, "No."
"Are you two?"
Sebastian looked at her like, silly lady, "No, I Basin!" while patting his chest.
Of course.

Pirate
We were hastily walking to a doctor's appointment, when a man who lives in our apartment complex walked past us to take out his trash. He seemed like a nice man, but was wearing an eye patch. Sebastian took one look at him and started to yell, "Pirate! Pirate! Pirate!" I'm thinking, I don't even know how he knows what a pirate is! Honestly, he's never seen one other than a cheap plastic finger puppet that he got at a grocery store treasure hunt. We designated that thing as a bath toy. But, yep, I have called that a pirate before. But man, how quickly he made the association of a simple eye patch to that pirate. Very clever, indeed. Embarrassing, but clever.

. . . is
One interesting grammatical construction that Sebastian uses is placing the verb is at the end of sentences. For example, he will say, "Where Tigey is?" or "Sky blue is," or "Dad at work is." I will repeat his sentence using the correct word order, and he will again repeat it correctly; however, when he creates his own novel sentences, he places the is at the end. Interesting! I believe this comes from how we frequently place is (or any verb) at the end noun clauses. For example, Sebastian reads a book called Skipper's Bone. In it, a puppy named Skipper asks different animals if they have seen his bone. He asks, "Do you know where my bone is?" (Where my bone is is the noun clause.) While questions place the verb directly after the wh- question word and before the subject, noun clauses with wh- question words place the verb after the subject, just like a normal sentence.

The Best Moon
Another favorite quote shows, again, how Sebastian thinks and what is in the world he knows. We started playing a "You're the best" game. It's simple: I would tell Sebastian, "You're the best!" And he would respond, "No, you're the best!" It was cute. Then I shook it up: "Well, you're the best Sebastian!"
"You're the best Mom!"
"Well, you're the best son!"
"You're the best moon!"
Ha! I thought. He definitely understands relationships: Sebastian and Mom, boy and Mom—so, of course, son and moon.

Too
"It's too tasty" is a common phrase at the dinner table. Although it sounds like a good thing, Sebastian says this when he doesn't like something. We're not sure where it came from, but we suspect that he understands the word "too" as a negative and limiting word. We do, afterall, say, "That's too fast," when fast is usually a good thing, too fast is not and usually leads to us saying, "Stop!" Sebastian also uses this construction when saying things like, "It too hurts."

Wi-ah
After a few versions of her name, Sebastian has settled on "Wia" for Livia. He says it so often that Livia said her own name for her first word. One of my favorite phrases is "I want to sing songs with Wia." Of course it's when he's supposed to be in bed himself, but how can I resist?

But I'm Happy
When Sebastian can tell that I'm getting upset, he'll turn the tables, pat his chest, and yell, "But I'm happy!" I think this phrase shows two things: First, Sebastian's disposition is, in fact, generally happy. He rarely wakes up on the wrong side of the bed, and if he is feeling cranky, usually a tender touch and expression of understanding turns him around. Not always, but generally. Second, I think this shows how Sebastian is definitely entering the opposition-in-all-things phase. He's not afraid to try doing what I don't want him to do. And that's a really healthy part of testing toddler boundaries. In this case though, I'm happy to let him win.

Processes
Sebastian's pronunciation is clearly much more clear than it used to be. Research shows that two-year-olds are generally between 50% and 75% intelligible. While I understand nearly everything he says, the phonological processes sometimes still get in the way to unfamiliar audiences.

One phonological process that stands out in Sebastian's speech is assimilation, when one sound in a word influences another sound in a word. Sebastian says "biaper" and "gog," but he can certainly say /d/ in words like "Dad" and "dancing."

Sebastian also reduces many of his consonant clusters. He says /tɑp/ for "stop," but /pu pes/ for "toothpaste."

Another process is weak syllable deletion, which is obvious in the way he says his name. He also says /bi ko/ for "bicycle," deleting the middle syllable.

Stopping, replacing fricatives into stops, is less common for Sebastian: he says /dɪs/ for "this," but he can say "sad" and "fish."

Broken
When we were at the aquarium with my mom, a poster near the shark exhibit warned about the damaging effects of illegal shark hunting. A small picture showed shark fins that had been cut off. Sebastian looked at that picture and amazingly understood exactly what it was: "broken sharks." My heart! We have seen broken cars and broken trees (from strong wind a few weeks ago!), but we've never really seen hurt or dead animals. That he could tell that that picture (which I didn't even see) showed shark fins—and that those fins were from sharks—amazed and touched me. He continued to show this sensitivity toward animals when he saw his first broken snail on the sidewalk. He said, "Oh, sad! Broken snail!" (/bwoˈ kn̩ s̪eɪw/) He screams at his friend when he tries to crush snails, "Ne taka!!!" Now, if he sees a snail crossing the sidewalk, he picks it up by its shell and places it in the bushes.

Bulgarian
Our neighbor, who has a son Sebastian's age, is from Bulgaria, so they speak Bulgarian around Sebastian a lot. Sebastian now speaks a few Bulgarian words to his friend, including ne taka (don't do that [which Sebastian usually yells]), baika (the bike), e-la tuk (come here), zdravey (hello), dovizhdane (goodbye [which Sebastian says vine]), and kakvo (what).

Love Is In the Air

As Valentine's Day rolls around this year, I challenged myself to make the perfect cheese fondue and list the most irresistible things about my babies.

I love the way Sebastian runs on his tippy toes. He has been doing this ever since he first started walking. Sometimes he'll wag his head from side to side as he shuffles his feel, and his sweet grin just makes me chuckle every time.

Livia has the sweetest fingers. Maybe it's because they are tiny. But when she's eating or looking at something intently, she points her finger as straight as she can. I always wonder what she's discovering.

The first time Sebastian walked around on snow and ice this year, he was cautious but excited. He, as usual, had cars in his hands. Although I thought it was pretty cute how he would try to step on the ice, it was when he fell down flat on his back that I couldn't handle. He lay there for a second or two, then rolled over and immediately started rolling his car on the ice. Falling never phases this boy.

Livia is generally a life-loving gal, but when Sebastian goes to sleep, she knows. It's her absolute favorite time of day. She is awake and smiling and wiggling and kicking around so much that Curtis and I can't help but give her all our attention. That's probably the reason she loves it so much.

Sebastian's language skills are sky-rocketing these days. He's picking up on words that we don't even try to teach him. He's still getting used to pronouns, however, and I take it as a great sign of learning when he mixes them up. His favorites these days are "hold you" when he wants to be held and "sit me" when he also wants to be held.

I never thought I would love any other babies legs more than I loved Sebastian's until I saw Livia's. Her chunky little legs just kill me every time I look at them! When we stretch on the floor, sometimes she'll straighten them out as much as she can, and every little roll squeezes together. Delicious! My favorite, though, has to be when she froggy kicks her legs. She does it when she's excited—or randomly—and I love it every time.

Head, Shoulder, Knees, and Toes

Sebastian,

You are now two years old. I know, I know—I say this a lot, but I can't even believe it.

One of your new favorite things to do is sing. I don't know how you know what it is, but you can recognize whether or not a page has musical notes on it. You open the hymn book during church and sing along with the congregation. It's the most precious sight—you sitting there with that big book open on your legs that are short enough to fit completely on the bench. You scrunch your eyes like you are working hard and sing as loud as the organ plays. It's my new favorite thing, too. When we sing together as a family, you make sure we have the page open with the musical notes on it—not just the sound. You sing every song we play, but you especially love Head, Shoulders, Knees. and Toes.

And I love more than just the way you sing. I love every bit of you, from head to toe. So here's my version of one of your favorite songs (with a few added verses).

Head
There are many things I love about your head—the way your hair grows over your ears, the way you wear my headbands on your head, the way you love your hat that the garbage man gave us. But the thing I love most about your head is what's inside. Your mind is wondrous. You have the greatest imagination—I knew that when you bit your toast into the shape of an airplane. You remember important things. You learn new words every day. But most of all, you love. The first thing you do when you wake up in the morning and run out of your room is find Livia. "Livia, are you awake? Are you happy? Livia's happy!" You care about other people and you love them.

Neck
When you used sign language to communicate, you tried to copy my signs as best as you could. In fact, your signs for banana, peas, and eggs all looked the same. But I could always understand what you were saying. My favorite sign, though, has always been your sign for love. Rather than crossing your arms in front of you, you have always tucked your fists together under your neck. While some of your other signs have changed to more closely resemble the model sign, this one never has. And it's your own way of telling me you love me.

Shoulders
It goes without saying how much you love to climb. You have strong shoulders and excellent balance. And as much as I don't like to let you go, I know that when I trust you, you get stronger every day.

Hands
This list wouldn't be complete without mentioning your love for cars. I'm not sure when it started—you never even had your own toy car for the first half of your life. In fact, until about six months ago, you had only one. Then Mimi came to the rescue and send you a package of Matchbox cars. And now there is never one out of your hands. A few examples:

Fingers
Oh, the way you hold a pen is just perfect. You squeeze all four fingers and make the most delicate scribbles I've seen a two-year-old make. Well, some people might call them "scribbles," but I know you are trying to make an S. S is your favorite thing on paper. In fact, it's all you see. You see it on the signs for the S-Bahn, you see it on the side of my nail file, and you see it among a scramble of every other letter in a box.

Bottom
Your favorite color is blue. I know this because every time I change your diaper, I let you choose which color you want. You always choose blue! If I don't have any blue diapers left, sometimes I'll try to sneak a blue-green or grey diaper on. It doesn't work. Not even with the lights off.

Legs
You don't love everything. Nope. Life would be too easy if that were the case. You love going outside and riding the train and playing at the park, but you hate putting on pants. Mimi and Grandma always comment on how you wear only a diaper sometimes. Well, it's not that I'm just lazy; you really hate it! So, as cute as I think your legs are, you still have to wear pants when we go outside. Or we can just stay home and dance.

Knees
When I play music during the afternoon lull, you won't let me just sit back and watch. You come over to me, pull on my pants, and say, "Dance!" You remind me why I do what I do. I don't stay home to sit back and relax; I stay home to be with you and teach you and dance with you and have fun with you. Your favorite song is "Let It Go," and I don't even know why! You've only seen the movie recently, but you've loved this song since before Livia was born. I would play a Disney radio station, and you could tell "Let It Go" was on from the first four piano notes. But the way you dance is what kills me. You bounce up and down to the beat and swing your arms from side to side. It seems to be a universal cute baby dance, and I'm thrilled you haven't moved on.

Toes
As much as you love running and playing, I would have to say that your favorite thing to do with your toes is jump. Since we are living in a 600-square-foot, one-bedroom apartment, our bed is out in the living room. (Yes, you get the room all to yourself.) And since our bed is out in the living room, you think it's just fine to use it as your own during the day. I don't blame you. It's just that you like to push all the blankets and pillows onto the floor so that our mattress becomes your personal trampoline! "Jump!" you say, and I'll come up there with you . . . sometimes.

Eyes
Let's face it. You see a lot of things. You can spot a airplane in the night sky . . . and somehow pick it out of a sea of stars. You can spot an S on a sign as we pass it on the street. You can spot a tiny gnat in our apartment on the other side of the room. But your favorite thing to look for these days is a train approaching from the distance. It's red, it's fast, and its doors open automatically. What's not to love? We'll be sad to leave the trains behind when we leave Germany. But right now, as your are two years old, they are your favorite things.

Ears
You aren't always pleasant after your nap. I understand. I would probably be the same way if I woke up and the day was nearly over. But one thing that will get your spirits up is hearing footsteps in the Treppenhaus. Dad has these giant, heavy steel-toed boots that he wears that he can't help but clunk up the stairs. Good for us, though, because we can hear him as soon as he starts his ascent!

Mouth
You sing, you eat, you spit, you kiss . . . but I have to mention what you don't do with your mouth these days. I'll try to serve you a variety of food. You love hot dogs, cereal, bread, cheese, peas, bananas, and a lot of other things. You even like spinach! But if I try to sneak a tomato on your pizza, "No 'matoes," you say. And you'll put it on my plate. I can hide mushrooms and eggplant and even nuts (sometimes), but you won't ever accidentally eat a tomato. You must have gotten that from Pappaw. I love this about you because you are figuring out who you are and who you want to be. Likes and dislikes are personal, and you are learning who you are.

Nose
One of Dad's favorite jokes (that he doesn't realize he tells all the time) is that you love to "stop and smell the roses, literally!" It's true, though. When we go out for a walk, you somehow manage to see small flowers growing—and you'll always stop to smell them. You scrunch up your nose and show your teeth and take a deep breath. It's just another way you teach us how to appreciate everything in life—especially you.

So, see, Sebastian? I love every bit of you. And there's more to love than what I just named here. And even though I can't believe you're two, I know that a day will come when I can't believe you're twenty. But there will be just that much more to love.

-Mom

Sebastianfest

A few weeks ago, a friend told me about the largest pumpkin festival in the world. The Kürbisausstellung Ludwigsburg (the Ludwigsburg Pumpkin Festival) is held every fall. But looking at the calendar, I found out that only one weekend remained of this party! We decided that the Pumpkinfest would make an excellent birthday outing for a boy who's turning two.

The festival is nestled behind the Ludwigsburg Palace, one of the largest original baroque palaces in Germany. The gardens, however, were the most impressive feature of this place. The grounds were clean and stately, lined with green, orange, and white pumpkins. And it couldn't have been a more perfect day. The sun was shining so bright that we shed our jackets and enjoyed the first weekend of November in short sleeves.

We entered the real pumpkin part of the festival once we circled around to the back of the palace. We found ourselves eating samples of pumpkin slices and seeds, and surrounded by pumpkin sculptures and artwork. Sebastian was just as amazed as I was to see a life-sized dinosaur completely made from pumpkins.

"Di-saur!"

After exploring the grounds, we decided it was time to partake of the pumpkin goods! The menu featured pumpkin spaghetti, pumpkin stir fry, pumpkin seeds, and pumpkin popcorn. We tried pumpkin quiche, pumpkin Maultaschen in pumpkin soup, pumpkin fries, savory pumpkin pancakes, and a vegetarian pumpkin burger. 

Pumpkin quiche, Sebastian's favorite

Pumpkin Maultaschen in pumpkin soup, our favorite

Sebastian fell asleep while we were exploring the rest of the gardens. So Livia got some well-deserved alone time and a great view of the palace.

After the Pumpkin Festival, we trekked across the city to the church building where the ward was hosting a Halloween party. Pumpkins and candy in one day? What a birthday treat! Since we have nothing, we fashioned a pirate costume with an over-sized white shirt, a black belt, and a scarf. I brought some eyeliner to draw on his face, but it didn't really matter anyway. He hasn't ever really been trick-or-treating. Last year, we dressed up fancy and walked around the block until we reached the Hutchinson's house. Sebastian ate one sucker, and then we went home. This year, he walked around to each of the trunks and said, "Treat, please." It took him a while to catch on, but he loved the result. He knows what his treat bag looks like and knows exactly where it is.

To some, that would seem like sufficient birthday celebration for a kid his size, but no. We party for an entire week at our house. On Sebastian's birthday, I was not allowed to tell him no, we didn't go shopping, we spend all morning at the park with other kids, Dad came home early, and we made homemade pizza and donuts. 

Just try to tell me I'm not a genius.

I think he likes them!

Livia's Sebastian's birthday treat

Happy birthday, Sebastian!

Sebastian's ABC Inventory

Just one short month until Sebastian turns two. Compared to Livia, he's a giant, but when we to go the playground with bigger kids, I can see he's still just a baby. He is, however, without a doubt, turning more into a boy every day. He's rapidly been adding words to his spoken vocabulary in the last three or four months, and his speech is irresistible to me. Over the last month, he has phased out of his last few signs ("sandwich," "noodles," "thank you," and "music") with the exception of "love," for which he places his fists under his chin when he needs comfort. He has the sweetest voice, and since he's so hard to record, I want to phonetically document his darling toddler articulation and exercise my brain. This collection also showcases Sebastian's interest, behavior, and attitudes all in one place. Also note that these are words that Sebastian produces spontaneously rather that words that he repeats.

airplane - /ˈɑ pin/ - "ah-peen"
Airplane is by far one of my favorite Sebastian words. I love it because it shows how that he knows what he loves. He can spot an airplane from miles (literally) away. He can hear an airplane outside when we are trying to go down for a nap. (This word also sounds exactly like "open," "elephant," and "happy." Context is almost always necessary. Otherwise, they are pretty difficult to differentiate.) Curtis can't wait until the day he teaches Sebastian about Bernoulli. That will be a fun name to say.

(I already posted a video of this word here.)

This word features a common phonological process, cluster reduction. Instead of producing both the /p/ and the /l/ sounds in "plane," Sebastian reduces that cluster, making it easier to say, by eliminating the /l/. Sebastian rarely produces the /l/ sound in any word, but it will occasionally roll off his tongue when he says his sister's name.

Other A words include "again," "apple," "all gone," and "ant."

binkie - /ˈbĩ bik/ - "bee-beek"
We are trying to wean Sebastian of the binkie, but with a new baby sister and moving to a new home every few months, we understand he is going to be a tad bit dependent on it, and that's OK. I also love the way he says blanket: /ˈɑ bik/.

"Binkie" differs slightly from the way he says "baby" (/bi bi/). The nasalization of the first vowel (and the tired whining) give away this word. This word features progressive (or perseverative) assimilation. I know that Sebastian can produce the initial /k/ sound from words like "cookie," "cat," "car," so it's interesting that he's reduplicating the /b/ and moving the /k/ to the final position.

Other B words include "badger," "ball," "banana," "bath," "bear bear," "bee" (his first fear), "berry," "big," "bird," "bitte," "blanket" (/ˈɑ bik/), "body," "book," "bread," "bubbles," "bug," "bus," and "butterfly."

Curtis - /kɚːz/ - "Curz"
I thought about using "cat" for C because it was Sebastian's first word. Then "car" is basically his favorite thing ever. But I couldn't resist documenting the way he always calls Curtis "Curtis" instead of "Dad." He's called me "Jessie" just once or twice. I believe this shows how brilliant (and adorable) Sebastian is. He's trying to figure out the rules of language and of this world. He sometimes hears me call his dad "Curtis," so he is trying to mimic what I do. Brilliant! 

I must also note that I've been very impressed with Sebastian's ability to produce the final /r/ in "Curtis, "car," and "water." This sound isn't usually mastered in the final position until about five years of age.

Other C words include "caterpillar," "cereal," "chalk," "cheese," "choo choo," "clean up," "cookie" (thanks, Mammaw), and "cup."

doggie - /ˈgɑ gi/ - "goggy"
It's not hard to tell when Sebastian sees a dog in the distance.  Animals were among Sebastian's first big interests: His first word was "cat." He asks for Taco (my parents cat) when we call my parents. He adores going to the zoo and watching animal videos on YouTube. He can name most of the sounds that farm and forest animals makes. So, naturally, "dog" was one of his first and most enthusiastic words to learn. In addition to saying this word, he'll generally squeal with delight and point with vigor. When we go outside for walks, people are always so kind to stop and let him pet their dogs. He loves it. And I love him.

Sebastian frequently backs (changing the /d/ sound to the /g/) his alveolar stops, as heard in this word. Backing is usually a more unusual (and more difficult to fix) phonological process. Usually children change their /g/s to /d/s—saying "dod" instead of "gog." However, rather than backing, I think this is more an example of regressive, or anticipatory, assimilation (the opposite of what Sebastian does in the word "binkie"). The velar /g/ influences the /d/, and Sebastian anticipates using that velar consonant by changing the /d/ to a /g/.

Other D words include "danke," "diaper," "dinosaur," "drum," and "duck."

egg - /æk/ - "ack"
There was a time when Sebastian wanted eggs every. single. morning. for breakfast. I quickly learned to sneak a handful of nutritious spinach so that he was getting a good amount of veggies per day. (Don't ask me how I "sneak" a bright green vegetable into a pale yellow food.) It didn't take long for Sebastian to learn to say this word since his signs for "egg," "peas," and "bananas" all looked the same.

Besides being cute, this word is an example of final consonant devoicing—the final consonant, /g/, is changed to its voiceless counterpart, /k/. 

Other E words include "eat," "elephant," and "eyes."

food - /puːd/ - "pood"
Sometimes I'll wake up in the morning and find Sebastian four inches away from my face sweeting asking for some breakfast. Oh goodness. He's so sweet. He'll say "food" with his cute, cute lips sticking out, and I can't help but give him anything he wants. Except cereal. Because he'll eat four bowls before he's full. 

This word is an example of stopping, substituting a fricative (/f/) with a stop consonant (/p/), something that I don't see very often in Sebastian's speech. He is able to produce other fricatives, like /s/ and /z/ (although sometimes dentalized), in other words.

Other F words include "fast," "fish," and "flower."

get out - /gaʊk/ - "gouk"
This phrase is newly developed and frequently used. It seems that Sebastian is always desperate to get out of something—whether that be a shopping cart, car seat, booster seat, his bed, or the house. One thing is for sure: This boy loves move. He loves to be free and play and run (in circles) if he so pleases. And I love that. I love that he can use his body and explore the world. 

This word is another example of progressive assimilation. The velar /g/ sound influences the alveolar /t/ sound, changing it to a velar /k/. Sebastian is fully capable of producing the /t/ sounds, but in this word, the first velar consonant influences the second consonant.

Other G words include "get off," "get it," "giraffe," "glasses," "go," "grandma," "grandpa," and "grapes" (/t̪æs̪/).

"Giraffe" also illustrates another remarkable skill in language acquisition. Many children will lump all four-legged animals under one vocabulary word (if only for a short time), calling all cows and tigers "dogs," for example. Sebastian, however, has never done this—according to my observation. I was amazed the morning he pointed to Livia's pajamas and labeled the figure on them "giraffe." How did he know that? He keeps reminding me to never underestimate his ability as a learner.

happy - /ˈæ piː/ - "appy"
I love that Sebastian is starting to recognize emotions in other people, especially in his sister, Livia. This is a skill that is difficult for many children, but Sebastian has always seemed to read into the emotional cues of children around him. I first noticed it when we attended playgroup in Vancouver. A baby girl, strapped in her carseat, might be crying while her mom attempted to break up her older two siblings. Sebastian would skip over to her, place his hands on either side of the carseat, and babble at her with his head tilted sideways. He would bring her toys or place a ball on her face—something he still does for Livia. Even though "sad" is an important emotion to recognize, he's recently started pointing out when children are happy. We see them at the playground. We see them in books. And we see happiness in our family.

Removing the /h/ in "happy" is a common example of initial consonant deletion. Many H words, in fact, feature this phonological process. Interestingly, for Sebastian, he removes the initial /h/ sound in all H words except for one—"hot"—in which case he articulates only the /h/.

Other H words include "hair," "happy," "hat," "helicopter." "help," "hot" (his second word, meaning "fire"), "hotdog" (/ˈaʔ gɑg/), "house," and "hurt" (of course).

ice - /aɪs̪/ - "ites"
The hot Carolina summer begs Sebastian daily to play outside. But it's hot. So I gave the boy a plain ol' bowl of ice. It was a hit! He asks for ice nearly every time he plays outside, but what's so cute about this word is his sign for it: He points to his eye. Clever boy.

I've noticed that Sebastian's voiceless alveolar sounds (/s/ and /t/) are dentalized—his tongue is pushed forward, on his teeth. When Sebastian first started making the sound for a snake, he would actually place his tongue between his teeth. It's an advanced articulation that will come in handy when he starts producing more words with the /θ/ and /ð/ sounds, but right now it sounds like a mild lisp. 

Other I words include "I want."

Jesus - /t̪iːz/ - "tseez"
The first time I realized what Sebastian was actually saying, I thought he had been asking for cheese. Until I saw he was looking at our illustrated Book of Mormon. This moment was really special for me because neither I nor Curtis had taught him to say "Jesus" specifically. He heard Jesus' name in prayers and saw His picture in the hallways at church, but it was Sebastian who initiated learning about Him from books. Sebastian already has such a kind heart, and I'm excited for him to start wanting to be like the kindest heart we know.

"Jesus" and "ka-chow" both feature deaffrication. The affricate sounds "j" (/dʒ/) and "ch" (/tʃ/) are replaced with non-affricate sounds. In Sebastian's case, he simplifies these sounds to a dentalized /t/, meaning the /t/ sound is articulated slightly forward, causing a lisp-sounding /t/.

Other J words include "jam" and "jump" (of course).

ka-chow - /ə ˈt̪aʊ/ - "uh-tsow"
I see a few trends in the words that Sebastian has interest in saying: first, food; second, animals; and third, vehicles. He loves cars. And he loves Cars. Curtis and I aren't keen on allowing Sebastian to have much screen time, but sometimes, it's a necessary evil. We started watching Curious George so that I could have some free time to put dinner on the table right as Curtis came home. Then I started reading more about building creativity and independence in toddlers. Sebastian is able to play by himself like a champ on most days. He is creative with the few toys he has, and I'm really proud of his ability to entertain himself and take control of his play. But, alas—you know the days I'm talking about. Those are the days we watch Cars. "Kachow" refers to the hot-shot racecar on his journey to self discovery, Lightning McQueen.

Most often, he deletes the initial consonant, but it's also not unusual to hear the /k/. But most importantly, he loves saying this word. In this video clip, he's holding a package of hand wipes with Lightning McQueen on the front. Excuse his dirty face and clothes-less body. I'm a good mom.

Other K words include "kick."

Livia - /ˈɑː i ˌjə/ - "Ah-ee-yuh"
I love the way Sebastian says "Livia." Or maybe I just plain love that he says "Livia." When we brought Livia home from the hospital, Sebastian tried to rip the blanket from her that she was swaddled in. He was mad. He quickly learned that she was here to stay, and now it isn't rare to find him sharing toys and kisses with this angel baby. I once found her with a clean diaper covering her face. She was a bit fussy, so Sebastian gave her what he thought would help the most. Sweet boy.

/l/ is developmentally an advanced sound to make, and it may be too early to tell whether or not Sebastian will have trouble with it. I do hear it sneak in on occasion, so it's likely that Sebastian will be find producing this sound in the future. But in the meantime, Sebastian usually substitutes the /l/ with a vowel or /j/.

Other L words include "legs" and "light."

Mom - /mɑm/ - "mom"
I just must include this word. It almost makes me teary just thinking about his voice as he shouts my name from behind the nursery gate at church. He was the first one who touched my heart from within. He was the first one who changed my whole outlook on life. He was the first one who made me a mother for the rest of my life. He always says it perfectly. He always says it with devotion and delight. And maybe that's my favorite part.

/m/ is one of the first phonemes that children usually master, which—fortunately for me—makes "mom" one of the easiest words to say. /m/ is a bilabial sound, meaning it is produced by articulating both lips. And lips are the first muscles a baby uses—to suck. It is no wonder that "mama" is a term used universally, no matter which native language a baby hears. Sebastian, however, said "cat" before anything else. Then "hot." Then "dad." Then a few other irrelevant words before he got to "mom." At least he says it now . . . .

Other M words include "Mater," "McQueen," "milk," "monkey," "more," "moo," and "music."

no - /noʊ/ - "(Do you really need a translation?)"
I once read a statistic that the average toddler hears the word "no" more than 400 times per day. To me, that's a sad representation of a toddler's emotional and linguistic environment. We rarely use the word "no" with Sebastian to forbid him from doing something, but it's still a word that pops up every now and then. I chose this word for N because not only does Sebastian say it perfectly, he uses it constructive ways. Rather than using it as an I-don't-care-what-you-say-I-hate-all-things blanket negative, Sebastian uses "no" to tell us his decisions. If we ask him if he wants to eat chicken or peas, he might say, "No chicken!"

Another N word is "nice." He says this almost exclusively when we are changing his diaper. On the occasions he gets diaper rash, he hates getting his diaper changed. But we flash a tube of petroleum jelly and say, "But this will make it feel nice!" Suddenly, every diaper change he brings me that tube and says, "nice."

Other N words include "nap," "nose," and "noodles."

outside - /ə̆ ˈs̪aɪː/ - "uh-sai"
I remember the first time Sebastian's feet met grass. He hated it. But it seems natural for babies to shun the unfamiliar. But now that Sebastian is big and two, it's like he needs fresh air as much as he needs, well . . . air. I suppose that explains it.

This word is one of the few that is always spoken with a question intonation. While every other word goes from high to low, this word is almost always requesting permission. And it comes with an irresistible grin.

Other O words include "oatmeal," "off," "one," and "open." 

poopy - /ˈpu pi/ - "poopy"
Another letter with so many other possibilities. I love the way he says "please" (/piːs̪/) and "play" (/peɪ/), but "poopy" (I'm sorry) was a huge milestone for us. We know that one of the prerequisites for potty training includes recognizing the urge, which Sebastian has been able to do for a while now. For the better part of this year, Sebastian has alerted us that he would like his diaper changed by making eye contact and tapping on his diaper. This act was also one of the first ways Sebastian initiated communication. To me, that was huge! Unfortunately, another prerequisite to potty training is being able to sit still for a few minutes. That, my friends, has definitely not been mastered.

/p/, like /m/, is another bilabial sound, which makes it another easy sound for toddlers to make—which also makes "poopy" an easy word to say correctly.

Other P words include "pancakes" (/ˈpĩ pĩk/), "park," "peanut butter," "peas," "pig," "pineapple," "pizza," and "plate"

q
I don't think Sebastian says any words that begin with Q. He certainly doesn't know the meaning of "quiet."

raisins - /wiːs̪/ - "rees"
I taught Sebastian the sign for "bubbles" early on, but it wasn't long before he started signing for them and being frustrated that he was getting exactly what he asked for. Then I noticed the box of raisins on the counter and thought, just maybe . . . . I don't have any clue how to sign "raisins," but Sebastian came up with his own confusing way. 

Sebastian can (impressively) produce the /r/ sound after a vowel, but still substitutes a /w/ for the /r/ (gliding) when it occurs before a vowel. 

Other R words include "rabbit," "rain," and "rock."

Sebastian - /ˈbæ bɪs/ - "Babis"
Sebastian rarely refers to himself by name. I think that's normal for most kids. But when he does, he gets the most so-proud-of-myself grin on his face, where his eyes squint and I can see every tooth in his mouth. His name was one of the first words he responded to, a milestone for children in the early language development. We have a photo book of Sebastian's first year. We go through that book and identify people and things in the pictures, like Mimi or Curtis, but identifying Sebastian illustrates an interesting notion of Self. He points to pictures of himself from birth to around eight months and says "baby." But through the rest of the book, he labels himself as "Babis." Interesting, isn't it?

The syllable deletion in this word (chopping off the unstressed syllable) is completely normal for toddlers his age. The thing is that we don't see many words that contain more than three syllables in a toddler's vocabulary. One of the first three-syllable words that most parents notice is the pronunciation of /ˈnɛ nə/ for "banana." Sebastian can actually say "banana" correctly—unless he also wants peanut butter (which is most of the time)—in which case, he says "baaaapeanutbutter" (/ˈbʌː p ??? bɝː/. I love it!

Sebastian reduces the "-stian" (/stʃɪn/) to "-bis" (/bɪs/). Clusters, not to mention a fricative-affricate cluster, are naturally more difficult to produce than a single bilabial stop (/b/), so Sebastian combines cluster reduction and stopping for this part of his name. However, I believe he compensates for those processes by substituting /s/ for the /n/ at end of his name. Interesting again!

Other S words include "sad," "salt," "sandwich," "shirt," "shoes," "sit," "snack," "soap," "socks," "strawberry," "stuck," and "swim."

truck - /gʌk/ - "guck"
Whenever we hear the grumble of a diesel engine, Sebastian freezes, looks at me with urgency, and whispers "truck." He then runs outside as fast as he can to catch a glimpse of the passing truck from our back porch.

This word is another example of regressive assimilation, just like in the word "dog." The final /k/ sound influences the initial /t/ articulation so much that it changes it.
Other T words include "tall," "teeth," "tiger," "too," "toothbrush," "toothpaste," and "towel."

uh-huh - /ˈʌ hə/ - "uh-huh"
OK, so his articulation is spot-on on this one, but it's just the way he says it that I love. It's near impossible to describe his sing-songy, high-pitched-then-fallingplummeting-but-still-jubilant intonation, but it's one of those words that I swear I'll never forget. 

Almost all of his words (other than when he's asking a question) follow the same intonation pattern: an exaggerated high-low change in pitch. His intonation, I like to think, reflects his exaggerated-but-joyful personality. When he answers my "Did you like the . . . ?" questions, his cheerful intonation tells me more about his answer than his words do.

His other U word is "uh-oh" (too common for my liking).

v
I wish I could put "vacuum" on this list, but I've only speculated hearing it on one occasion. It was one of those times when I couldn't quite figure out what he was trying to say, but looked around and tried to connect the dots. It would make sense that Sebastian would try to say "vacuum" because he loves when I turn it on. He plays with it and wants to plug it in all the time. But he hasn't quite said it consistently enough yet for me to be able to transcribe his pronunciation. Sad.

water - /ˈwɑ ɚ/ - "wa-er"
Curtis and I parked on the side of the road to check out a local garage sale when he said it out of no where. "That's a house, Sebastian," we corrected. It was then we heard it too. There was a small stream running along the end of the street. How incredible, we thought. He was able to recognize different forms of water. We were sure that we had only experienced water he could drink and water he could bathe in. But Sebastian extended that word, all on his own, to describe water in nature. This extension of one word for multiple meanings is opposite of the way he is able to differentiate among different animals in the "four-legged animal" category. Both skills are extremely remarkable and illustrate just how intelligent young toddlers are.

Other W words include "walk" and "wall." 

x
No X words either. Don't worry, Sebastian. I don't know that many myself.

yucky - /ˈʌk i/ - "ucky"
Now, I'm not proud of this one, but he totally picked this up from me. I'm just not sure what else I can say to stop him from playing with the poop that some irresponsible dog owner left near the playground.

His other Y word is "yes" (even though it usually takes some prompting).

z
No Z words either. I suspect his first will be "zoo." Or "zepplin." Or "zucchini." Or "zig zag." Or "zinger." Have you ever noticed how strange looking the letter Z is?

Well, there you have it. A necessarily long, comprehensive list of Sebastian's words and examples of (and reasons for) his pronunciation. If this post hasn't helped you appreciate the brain, take a moment to watch "The Linguistic Genius of Babies" by Patricia Kuhl.



Before I close, note that not only is this list adorable, it tells a story. The content of this list tells a story about what we can learn about our children from language. I know what Sebastian loves. I know how Sebastian keeps trying—because these words used to be babbles. I can learn how Sebastian makes connections in our big, big world. And I know that Sebastian is constantly taking in everything in this big world because he adds to this list every day.

Moments That Matter Most

I can still see the peace that had been washed over his face. His pink eyelids were delicately closed as he breathed short, deep breaths in my arms. It was close to two o'clock in the morning. I lay there and stared at his body, so small and secure, cradled in the crook of my arm, in the dim light of the moon coming through my window. As I stroked his fluffy hair, I thought, I want to remember this moment for the rest of my life.

I often find myself wanting to remember important events, out-of-the-ordinary happenings that make my life seem more remarkable in some way or another, like hiking to the top of a glacier in the Swiss Alps or posing next to a crocodile in Cozumel. There's nothing wrong with that: These events are often very happy memories. Sometimes we get lucky with a camera, immortalizing moments that mean something to us, moments that make our lives unique.

But then there are moments that Instagram will never be worthy of. Maybe these moments can be photographed, but these moments I simply just want to enjoy. These moments are short. And sometimes we get lucky and realize what they are before these moments are gone.

These are just some of my moments:

when Livia goes completely limp as she eats.
when Sebastian clasps his hands and squeezes his eye to pray.
when I realized the crease in Sebastian's forearm was beginning to disappear.
when Livia gets all shifty-eyed as I stroke her eyebrows right before she falls asleep.
when they pout their lips and arch their back right after they wake up.
when Sebastian calls my name as I pick him up from nursery.
when they yawn and stretch their fists to the top of their heads.
when Sebastian points at the hummingbirds or the butterflies with excitement.
when Livia's eyes light up as she looks at the window.
when their gums look so deliciously gummy as they smile.
when Sebastian scrunches his nose and curls his lip, showing his small teeth, when he smells flowers.
when I wake up and realize Livia slept all night.
when Sebastian kicks his sandals forward as he runs. His legs are perfect.
when their chests rise and fall as they sleep.
when Livia smiles as Sebastian gives her cars or blankets or diapers or bread.
when Sebastian fell asleep with his hands folded on his chest like an old man.
when Livia sleeps so hard her face gets squishy.
when I decide not to yell at Sebastian.
when I decide to stare at Livia instead of stare at a screen.

President Dieter F. Uchtdorf instructed us that "we would do well to slow down a little, . . . focus on the significant, lift up our eyes, and truly see the things that matter most." I try each day to slow down and focus. And when I do, I feel a drop of heaven fall onto my heart each time.

A 4-Day Weekend

I heard the front door open. It was only 8:15 a.m., Thursday, June 19.

"Curtis?" I called out. What on earth is he doing home? 
"The power was out today at work. I looked for someone—anyone—but no one was in sight, so I came home."

So we took advantage of the day together! The Relief Society in our ward sent out a list of fun summer activities in the area. Lazy 5 Ranch, a private animal ranch in Mooresville, caught our eye. We toured the park along this 3.5-mile path, feeding animals through your car window. We fed all kinds of animals, including ostriches, emus, zebras, camels, llamas, pot-bellied pigs, antelope, blackbuck, elk, deer, water buffalo, longhorns, giraffes (Curtis had to stand out of the car window to reach them!), and a rhino (Well, we didn't feed the rhino, but he was still pretty neat to see!). I was terrified of being eaten, but Sebastian made friends with many of the llamas.

Trying to hold still for Mr. Ostrich

I started off with Sebastian in the back seat, but you can clearly see that I'm out of my comfort zone. Curtis "let" me drive and risked his own life to let Sebastian get up close and personal with the animals. 

Sebastian posing with Mr. Llama

And here's a video so you can see how excited Sebastian really was!

Relaxing after lunch

Livia enjoying the sun

It was definitely a welcome and unexpected surprise to spend the day with Dad. If only he could skip out on work more often . . .

. . . and then Friday came.

"Coming. No power again." I got the text at 7:56 a.m. Within three hours, we were on the road bound for Washington, D.C. I wouldn't consider us the epitome of spontaneity, but whoever you are, Mr. Spontaneous, we gave you a run for your money this weekend.

It takes six hours to drive from Charlotte to Washington, D.C., but with all the stops we needed to make, it took us the rest of the day. My dear friend Emma, whom I taught English in Ukraine with, conveniently lives just outside of D.C. We had a delicious pancake dinner at her home and met her husband, Kevin, and her six-month-old daughter, Evelyn, before we retired to our hotel for the evening.

Emma and I holding our babies (June 20, 2013)

Pretty much the only thing I wanted to see in D.C. was the International Spy Museum. Ever since Curtis and I started watching "Alias" three years ago, I've wanted to be Agent Sydney Bristow. Right now, we are following Annie Walker in the new season of "Covert Affairs." We almost exclusively watch spy/action movies and TV shows. In fact, we shared our first kiss during the steamy scene in The Bourne Identity. And we've decided that, if it weren't for my abominable relationship with running, I would make the perfect spy. It turns out, Sebastian would not.

Can you find Sebastian? (International Spy Museum)

Spies don't generally smile and wave as they covertly navigate the ducts. We could easily have spent all day perusing this museum, but as luck would have it, they don't allow strollers. We got through maybe four of the seven exhibits. I was in the middle of learning about code breaking when Sebastian let us know that he was done.

Thinking Sebastian would love the big elephant and fossils, we decided to try out the National Museum of Natural History. Nope. At least there were ducts at the Spy Museum . . .

Time to move on to something more interesting: airplanes!  Sebastian actually loved the National Air and Space Museum. He pulled us to every exhibit that you could go inside: a few cockpits and a vintage airliner. Curtis had a good time too. While the boys enjoyed the planes, Livia and I enjoyed the Time and Navigation exhibit. In case you were going to ask, I think a sextant would make a fascinating birthday gift.

Lovin' the planes! (National Air and Space Museum)

By far, however, Sebastian treasured his time outside, running up and down the Mall, chasing pigeons. And he deserved it after all the driving we did the day before . . . and all the driving we would do the next.

Hooray for independence! (Washington Monument)

Our little world traveler (National Mall)

Chasing the pigeons (National Mall)

In front of the United States Capitol (National Mall)

That evening, we savored authentic D.O.C. Neapolitan pizza at 2Amys and drove through D.C. one last time in the night light. We sure got a kick out of all the cars parked in front of the "No Parking" signs along Embassy Row. Available evening parking hours or abuse of diplomatic immunity?

Curtis and I first met on the East Coast, and being in D.C. allowed us to reminisce on that time. It's hard to decide the best part of the weekend. But perhaps we don't have to decide. We can love it all. We got to do something spontaneous, do something different, do something fun, do something together, and eat pizza (I mean, come on!).