When we first began asking Bradshaw if he'd say family prayer he angrily replied no. Now, it's Bradshaw's personality that if we try to cajole him into doing anything when he's already said no, he will only become more adamantly opposed.
But knowing he was completely capable and that he would be proud of himself afterwards, I said, "I can't think of what to say...will
you help
me to say the prayer?"
Now almost every night he asks to help and feeds me all the lines. Sometimes the content is comical sometimes it's surprising observant. It's always fun to hear what's on his mind. Last night, he whispered to me "we thank thee for Jack" (his cousin) and I repeated. Then he squints at me with a big grin and whispers, "you're doing a great job Mom."
Me: Uh-oh Bradshaw, I can't park here or we'll get a ticket.
B: Yay! Then we can fly on an airplane.
When we first moved to our building, I often reminded Bradshaw as we stepped on the elevator to watch that his fingers don't get pinched in the elevator door. It was a calm reminder but somehow it has become his phobia that Olivia will get her fingers pinched in the elevator and he gives her regular pep talks.
"Liva it's coming!! It's coming. 'Member to watch yer fingers and no touch da door. When you grow up to be a big lady I want you to have all 8 fingers."
And an Olivia-ism:
After I change her diaper she typically hops up, grabs the diaper like a football, runs it to the trash, closes the lid, and looks at me for praise. Well the other day, she had a really saturated diaper, and fearing it would goosh all over her, I put it in the trash.
She looks dumbfounded at me, looks at the trash can, looks back at me and throws herself on the floor in a puddle of tears.