These are my kids.
Ham is 18 months and refuses to say words. If you bribe him or if he’s in a magnanimous mood, he will deign to say “mama” or “dada” or “ball.” But he prefers to imitate animal sounds or whatever noises family members are making.
He makes this one sound that serves as his all-purpose word. The sound is “doh?” like a sweet, inquisitive Homer Simpson. Doh is not only used to inquire, however. It can mean just about anything. And combined with a pointing finger, it gets the job done.
Nica is 4. She is full of thoughts and words and is constantly imagining, creating, asking.
She is very patient with Ham, even though he mostly annoys the snot out of her. But, of course, sometimes there is drama—such as last week’s pencil incident:
I was convinced this is what had happened:
Thankfully, I was wrong.
In between all these little moments, there is play. Lots and lots of play. Because they are kids, and playing is their job. Plus they have a mother who never outgrew her passion for toys and wants playing to be her job too—which is how this blog came to be. In the meantime, I hope you, dear reader, toy enthusiast/shopper or fellow sillypants, will find the posts helpful or (dare I hope?) entertaining in some way.
In other words, doh?