Monday, September 26, 2011


With a vocabulary that is growing by leaps and bounds, and pronunciation skills that are improving daily, Violet's speech is getting very adult. She uses a lot of conversational conventions, like, "Do you want to use my toothpaste, or no?" and "Can I have just a smidge of brownie?"

While time is still fairly abstract, she definitely grasps the difference between now and later. She asked me if she could get a bathrobe of her own, and since I believe that, like dinnertime, robetime is sacrosanct in the Pierce home, I told her yes. She then asked if she'd be getting the robe "now or someday?" Smart kid and patient, too! Don't you worry, Violet, Mommy's gonna get you a cozy robe of your very own!

There are some words and concepts that still evade her. Similar to the way a non-native speaker will find concepts from their native language that cannot be expressed in English, Violet is forced to create her own words where the ones we give her are lacking. One of my favorites is

lasterday: noun, a day longer ago that the immediate day prior. Not to be confused with yesterday, which actually means yesterday. Used to recall any memorable event from the last 14 months. e.g. Remember lasterday when we went to the apple orchard with Jack and Charlie?

I saw a guy at a festival we went to this weekend wearing a shirt that read, 'Carpe Manana.' Lasterday, or wasterday, as it is properly pronounced, is kind of in line with Carpe Manana. It's just a laid back idea of time. Much like the word y'all, I can see a use for lasterday in my vocabulary. But, also like y'all, it just sounds stupid coming out of my mouth.

balleotard: noun; the stretchy pink outfit worn by ballet girls. A blending of the words ballet and leotard. Duh.

Balleotards are a hot topic in my house right now. Violet wants to keep constant tabs on her balleotard; ideally she'd like to be wearing it. If she isn't wearing it, she wants to know the status of the costume. "Is my balleotard dirty or clean? Is it in the hamper or the washer? Is it dry YET?" She's napped in it, grocery shopped in it, lunched in it.

The current balleotard, which is wadded up on a dining room chair right now awaiting a stain stick, will be lucky to make it through the full 6 weeks of dance class. We may have to buy a second--I'm thinking black this time--if we decide to re-enroll for the second session. And enroll we likely will. Violet is in love with her class. She and Ruby are in class together and I can't get over how excited to participate Violet is. Having a friend makes a world of difference.

It seems like only lasterday that I was rescuing her from her scary swim teacher at the pool, and now she and her balleotard would run me over to get into the dance studio.