Sunday, October 09, 2005

A Major Milestone and Verbal Flubs

First Time Ever

I never knew just how I would feel when it finally happened. I had heard others talk about it, and had considered in passing how I would react.

Yesterday, I heard the sound of Ben's voice as I napped on the couch. That's nothing unusual. He wakes up from his nap, gets restless, and starts saying things like, "Ben, get out," or just the standard "Daddy. Daaaadeeeee." Then there's the unintelligible, low groan. Anyone who knows Ben knows that sound.

I also heard his doorknob moving. Ben likes to close doors, but cannot open them yet, so this also was not unusual. So what's the big deal? Right?

Ben still naps in his crib.

Visions of Crushed Head Faeda* dancing through my head, I rushed to find out if Ben was okay. I managed to curb my enthusiasm enough to keep from knocking him over with the door. He was fine, and only later as I changed his diaper and asked how he got out of his bed did he say, "Ben bump a head." He seemed to be relating facts more than complaining, so I guessed the bump was not too bad.

After I told my wife about it, we discussed getting a toddler bed. It just wouldn't do to have our boy tumbling from his crib each day.

I chuckled to myself a bit and imagined what he'll do on the day he first wakes up, stretches his adorable little legs, and opens his room door onto the rest of the house, his mommy and daddy sleeping obliviously on the opposite side of the split floorplan. When that day comes, I hope for our sake that my post is no more eventful than this one.

* Crushed Head Faeda is a memorable character from the soon-to-be-classic, Simon of Space. I didn't link to it, because that site will be removed before long, due to the paper publisher's contract. I'll announce here when you can pick up your own hardbound edition. It will entertain you and make you think, but not in a sad way.

-------

Verbal Flubs

Relating a story someone else had shared about her new house's state of ill-repair, my wife said, "She's going to call the builder and tell them her house is a melon." (for all those unfamiliar with the problem here, the word should be "lemon," not "melon.") Note added later: she knew immediately that she had said it wrong -- sorry for that omission, dear.

The next day, she had another. First, let me say that it was about midnight-thirty. I had just been to see the US Marine Drum and Bugle Corp, who played a great arrangement of one of my favorite pieces -- Rimksy-Korsakov's Sheherazade, and had videotaped it for prosperity. I mean, posterity. Dang, she has me doing it, too.

I was playing the video for her and her mother when they both noticed a man standing near the field wearing bright orange pants. "Look at those pants," my wife said.

"What was he thinking?" my mother-in-law said.

My life laughed and replied, "I don't know. Those things make him stick out like an orange thumb." (hint: should have been "sore thumb.")

To her credit, she realized what she had said and laughed as I told her I was going to blog it. Here ya go, dear.

6 comments:

Jim said...

Mark,

Kevin just recently started climbing out of his crib recently also. Since his bed is adjacent to the older boys' bunk bed, he manages to use it as a ladder and support, to avoid the Faeda sindrome (good thing too, since our floor is hard ceramic!).

BTW, I think the technical term for the verbal flubs you describe is "wifeisms" )although you can attach the "-ism" suffix to just about any word appropriate (e.g. "Bushisms", etc.).

No disrepect intended to the gender, but it does seem to be a universal phenomenon. Of course, I wouldn't dare post mine: first, because my wife is a non-native english speaker, which makes her more prone to such "verbal flubs" when speaking english. Second, because I'm sure she has a ton of portuguese flubs of mine that she could relate if she wished to!

(Although, telling people about my portuguese flubs seems to be a favorite pastime of her sisters and brother!)

Mark said...

Yes, I was very glad we had carpet when Ben got out. We're on a slab foundation, but it's nowhere near as hard as that ceramic you have.

Wifeisms, indeed. I intentionally avoided that term, although I have no proof that any females read this (even my loyal wife -- very nice, huh?).

She's called me on several mis-heard song lyrics, as I have her. Those are some of the most fun we've had, because they're songs we (sort of) knew long before we met, but only happen to hear them together while we're in the car singing along. Example: "Just hold on Lucy, and don't let go," should have been, "Just hold on loosely..."

Weird! My word veri for this one is lucyc.

Anonymous said...

All right now, I have to defend myself! I corrected myself on the melon comment, too, as soon as it was out of my mouth. You made it sound like I reeally thought that was how the phrase goes! Shame on you. I actually like the term wifeisms, and I admit that I am guilty of these quite often. But you just wait until I start revealing some of your husbandisms! (and I do read your blog, honey)

Mark said...

Dear, please note the last section of my post said:

"To her credit, she realized what she had said and laughed as I told her I was going to blog it."

No, I didn't add that later.

I'm going to have lunch now. Thanks for reading!

Unknown said...

Oh don't worry, babies are like elephants - they're made of rubber! A little bump-a the head is what helps 'em go to sleep easier next time. ;) You know, the bump on the head that puts 'em to bed.

And as a wife myself I dare not say anything against the wifeisms, as I stumble my way through the English language while trying to hold conversations with my husband. Why just today I told him to watch out because of the cracks in the mirror. Except I was worried about the neighbors seeing into our house through the gaps in the CURTAINS.

Back to the first subject - he's climbing out of his crib. Might be time for a toddler bed as you say, but if so, get a gate for your stairs in your split level. A high one he can't climb. :)

Mark said...

I guess "split floorplan" was not the right term. I meant that the master bedroom is on the opposite side from the other bedrooms, so he could easily get out of bed and begin his day without our knowledge.