Hot and Heavy

We went to the park yesterday, where Callie and her Mom met us for some fun. It was, technically, their second visit to Jacobson Park that day. Between the morning and the afternoon, Callie's Mom noticed, every single human being within 500 miles decided to head up to the park.

Still, Iain and Callie had some fun. Iain was not in the most interactive mood, but he checked out the tire swings above and Callie worked hard to jolly him up a bit:


After a while, we retired to the nearby "lake" to watch the ducks and geese. As you can see, Iain likes to keep his distance at all times.

Lots more pics of that day to come.

But for now, think about this. For a while now, Iain has been telling us that everything is "hot!" At first, we thought maybe he'd been reading about Paris Hilton.* But he called everything hot. His cold milk? Hot. His head? Hot. His tasty snack? Hot.

Started a few days ago, he has been calling everything "heavy." As in, while struggling with the velcro on his Harrod's of London red double-decker bus: "Heavy!" He means that it's challenging. I think he heard me complaining that it's hard to carry him because "Dude, you're sooooo heavy!" and decided that "heavy" must mean difficult.

What's the story here? He understands that words can describe stuff. But he doesn't always know which word to use or how to employ the descriptive word. The more variable its meaning, the harder this becomes.

So anything he needs to describe, he claims is "hot" or "heavy," and he figures that either he'll be right or we'll say, "No, it's room temperature." or "No, it's tight." or whatever.

Learning. Growing. All the time. And then some.



*In case you're unaware, she used to be famous for dubbing things "hot" as a compliment.