"Moe Doddy"

More significant words could not come out of my 2 year old’s mouth than these. He can’t yet say “more” or “Daddy” accurately, but Chewy’s message is clear. “Please do to me again what you did before because I like it!” And as one of the 6 toddler throwin’ Harmons, I consent! What’s great about this phrase is that usually, it’s something I wanted to do to my kid before he liked it because I thought it would be funny. And when he gives the green light, “Moe Doddy”, we have found something that we both are going to get a kick out of for the next few minutes (some of these activities may not fit the ideal parenting mold we have agreed upon as a responsible parenting body and if you can guess any of these, you ain’t heard nothin’ from me).

“Moe Doddy” can say as much to me as “During these short developmental years while I can’t really talk, this activity will help me develop a stronger friendship with you early on” or it can say as little as “I love you.” Both of those can radiate from Chewy’s face while he says this short phrase. I thank Heaven it can be said without the letter R because we males struggle with that letter in our home, but the phrase comes through crystal clear! By the way, we’ve started chanting around the house in slow, rhythmic, soul tones the words, “Moe Daddy, Moe Daddy, Moe Daddy” to the tune of “Go white boy, go white boy.” Can you hear it through the web page? This is when adding audio would be nice on a blogger. Jojo Chavez and Maggy O’Mara join in without solicitation just like we boys used to gather in unison to say “OOOOHHHHHH” whenever a cutting burn was mentioned at the dinner table some 15 years ago.

One more highlight to this little boy: he’s a good boy. You will all get to know him, the more we visit, as our first bad tempered hitter. But he’s a good boy deep down in there and I’ll prove it. Dill and I were eating ice cream with just this boy at lunch this week. I had my usual mounds that bend the bowl they’re placed in. Dill had her usual widow’s mite that could fit in one of her tiny Chinese bowls. Christian quickly finished his toddler portion (that’s my boy, a piece of his Grandfather, he is). He wants more and Dill keeps halving hers and sharing with him. Well, I see this as an injustice (I’m almost all growd up) and I asked Chewy if he was really going to take the last of his Mommy’s ice cream for himself. Yes, I used these adult words, and he understood them. As she put her final scoop in his bowl, he looked at me, then at her, and then three things happened simultaneously. The lower lip came out, tears filled his lower eye lids, and his hands moved back near his ribs. He held that position for longer than either of us parents could take it. We both consoled him but he didn’t take another bite until we’d convinced him it was okay and that he wasn’t TAKING Mom’s helping, just receiving it. I can’t yet decipher if it was my crushing guilt trip or his own realization that Mom didn’t have anymore because he now had more, that caused all that. But it happened and it showed me I have a good boy. Until next time…-Miguel