Quick Brag

I have blog posts waiting, but here's a quick brag about BSM.

Yesterday afternoon, BSM asked us if he could bring fruit and/or vegetables to school today, because a friend of his is making a siyum (party with food). I agreed without asking for further details, and threw some starfruit and clementines in a bag last night. This morning, BSM decided that instead of fresh fruit, he'd rather bring a can of pickles and some dates. Remembering previous class parties, I asked if we need to coordinate that with anyone, since maybe some other kid signed up to bring canned goods. 

At this point, BSM explained what was actually going on: this is not a class-wide potluck event. Yesterday, BSM's friend said that he is finishing masechta brachos in mishna, and he plans to celebrate in school on Wednesday. BSM's response was, "How can I help?" and his friend suggested that BSM bring fruit/veggies.

I am so proud.

That's My Boys!

We live very close to an office-supply store which, like many such stores, also sells new and used school books. Outside the store, there is often a small stack of used books that are free for the taking. Being me, I have a look whenever I can, and occasionally find something nice: a full set of chumash with menukad Rashi, a couple of written-in workbooks that BSM will be using this year, so useful as spares, a random novel in English that looks interesting, some truly nifty Atlases. Also book covers.

A few months ago, I set the boys loose on the tree stump, and the results were marvelous.

BSM found one or two workbooks that he said looked interesting. I tried to include FF, who was holding forth with a mighty litany of complaints, by grabbing a comic book for him. FF, however, would not be mollified, and he just modified his Complain Litany to also include the fact that he can't read yet.

This is not the first time he's complained about not being able to read, so I finally joined Husbinator in teaching FF to read Hebrew. FF already knows the consonants and their sounds, so we're working on vowels. Our progress has been spotty, but it is progress. Yesterday, a friend returned our Highlights-style workbook, so hopefully FF will progress more smoothly with that to work from.

Also, it turns out that the workbook that BSM found and happily read night after night was not a workbook for grade 2, as I thought from my cursory glance when he chose it, but a textbook for grade 12. BSM now knows all manner of driving theory.

Immigration Day

BSM's school is celebrating Immigration Day this Wednesday. In addition to asking if any grandparents can come in to share their immigration stories, the school encourages children to bring in traditional food and dress. We're working on confirming Abba II's presence, but I'm really stymied by the "traditional food and dress." Mac 'n' cheese and a t-shirt? Fried chicken and jeans? Maybe just all the apple pie and a baseball hat. I mean, our so-called traditional food and dress isn't very exotic... Do all immigrants feel this way when their new country is all like, "Hey share your interesting culture stuff with us"?

I can Understand German Now!

I had to read part of a patent claim in German for work, and I succeeded! Granted, it helped that I had access to a similar version of the patent claim in English, but I needed some very precise information, and "similar" wasn't going to cut the mustard.

Here's the "similar" version of patent claim:

a load cell (30, 30', 30") which is arranged as only connection between the tiltable boom (14, 14") and the work platform (20), wherein

And here's what I needed to understand:

Luckily, I've been learning (well, more like playing, but I learn stuff, too!) Yiddish on Duolingo for about two months, so I had a surprisingly useful starting vocabulary:

• ein = one
• di/der/dem = the
• un = and, so assume und = un = and
• er = suffix that makes parts of speech agree with each other

I was also fairly confident that this section of the claim discusses a load cell, so Wagezelle is fairly clearly Wage + zelle = weigh + cell = load cell.

The WHOLE POINT however, of this post, is that a funny story Uncle Man told me years ago actually contains shockingly good advice for understanding the basics of a German text. When he was in college/grad school, Uncle Man was handed a scientific paper written in German, a German-English dictionary, and was told, "In German, nouns are capitalized." 

Until I had to translate these two little lines, I never realized how useful it is to be able to identify nouns at a glance. Armed with that information (and Google Translate), I was fairly easily able to find what I need:

Isn't that cool? (Using, of course, my definition of cool, which is "nerdy happiness-making.")

Walking About

A few weeks ago, I realized that unlike his brothers at his age, BY had never been for an actual walk. I don't know if it's because we live in a city instead of a small town, or because I'm just busier now, but while both BSM and FF walked to and from their daycare, BY always gets pushed in the stroller (or carried in the baby carrier, in winter). 

So a few Shabbatot ago, I put BY's little sandals on his little feet (I mean, seriously, I found shoes for this kid so much later than for his brothers... who needs shoes if they never walk around on pavement?) and took him for a proper walk, and it was So. Cute. He really enjoyed stomping around under his own power, and he did not run into the street. So since then, I've taken him out for a walk at least every few days, and it continues to be adorable.

That's it. Not a big deal. But it's something that I wanted to Share with the Group.

The Joys of Raising Non-American Children

I recently took BSM to the dentist, and I got to teach him two "new" ways to while away the time. 

During our wait to see the hygienist, I taught BSM how to play "Dots and Boxes," which he hasn't learned from his friends yet. Unfortunately, upon looking up the actual game description, I see that I taught him to play incorrectly. (I remembered the rules being that each player draws one line on every turn. Now I see that every time a player completes a box, that player is supposed to immediately draw an additional line, which makes the game considerably more interesting.)

Also, due partly to faulty Waze directions, I ended up parking close to 1/3 of a mile away from the clinic. On our way back to the car, I taught BSM a new song. "However," I warned, "Before I teach you the song, I need to make it perfectly clear that you are never allowed to sing this song in the house. Ever. Because it is incredibly irritating." 

I then proceeded to sing "Ninety-nine Bottles of Beer on the Wall." I got as far as 92 bottles before BSM cut me off, "Ema, stop. Please. You're right, this song is very irritating." I laughed and sang him just one last verse, from an alternate version of the song: "Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of beeeer: they all fall down, crash to the ground, no more bottles of beer on the wall!"

A Good Creepy or a Bad Creepy? Not a Creepy at All.

My preferred mode of transportation around town is my electric scooter. It's faster than walking, and does parking is a breeze.

Husbinator, having bought me the scooter, also provides peer pressure to look as nerdy as possible while riding said scooter. Namely, if I'm scooting in conditions that cause cars to turn on their headlights, I wear a horrifically dorky reflector vest. I agree with Husbinator in principle, and as a driver, I love it when cyclists/scootists wear proper reflective gear, but as a scootist, it's just so, so dorky. So dorky.  

A few weeks ago, I was scooting home after dark, wearing my trusty reflector vest, when a car slowed down and started crowding me. Without thinking too much about it, I slowed down to let the car pass me, so I could maneuver around it safely. The car kept crowding me, and then I heard a man calling out the window.

Not a problem, I know how to deal with this: he is not talking to me. I mean, really, the driver could legitimately be yelling to that guy on the sidewalk over there, so I ignored the driver and continued moving over and back.

But the man kept calling out, and I heard a feminine conjugation, and the pedestrians in calling distance were all male, so I reluctantly tuned in. Sure enough, the driver (middle-aged, male) was absolutely yelling to me, and was even commenting on my appearance:

"Kol hakavod lach! Good for you! Kol hakavod that I can see you! Kol hakavod!"

Teaching Me Something New

 A few days ago, out of the blue, BSM decided to share some knowledge with me. "Well, pink used to be only for girls."

"Say what now?"

"In the olden days, only girls could wear pink or purple."

***

You have as much context as I do.

Pudding Expectations

Today, in honor of Rosh Chodesh, FF had an Erev-Shavuot Make-Up party in gan.

Seems there's a tradition in public schools here: in addition to making cheesecake in preschool before Shavuot, the kids also each bring a pudding from home and eat it in gan. I remember this from last year (hey, that means they had school before Shavout during COVID year!), but I didn't realize it was such a big deal that a make-up day was required.

Anyway, I asked FF yesterday what kind of pudding he wanted, so I could buy him exactly what he wanted. We went through quite a few iterations before ending up with, "the kind with two colors: chocolate on the bottom and white on top, and choking hazards on top of that."

Clearly, he meant this Milky pudding:

So I said cool, and that was the end of the conversation.

But at the store, I was besieged by doubts. The pudding he requested is about 1.50₪ more expensive than a standard Milky pudding. Is that too extravagant? Is he allowed to bring tiny candies to school? We got lectured about choking hazards when we sent him with peanuts that one time...

But Husbinator said to just give the kid what he asked for, so we did. And a good thing, too!

You can't see FF's excited face, cuz I blurred it out, but let's zoom in on what's really important: all those other puddings (and one yogurt) with prizes:

Success!

False Accusations

I was taking laundry out of the dryer on Sunday night, and found a small water gun. Seriously? The stuff-being-left-in-pockets is getting a little much.

Then I found a transformer-like toy. Are you KIDDING me? Turns out I didn't just think that, I exclaimed it loudly enough that Husbinator came outside to make sure everything was all right. (Yes, he came outside. Our dryer is on our (covered) front patio, because that was significantly easier than setting up a vent to the ceiling of the laundry room, through the ceiling storage, and out into... the dining room? Back down to the tiny window next to the bathroom sink???)

When I expressed my indignation, Husbinator pointed out the presence of these toys probably was not due to BSM and FF leaving stuff in their pockets. After all, Husbinator had kindly reminded me to plug the dryer back in and reset all of its dials before running the load, and I had. However, did I check the dryer before I put stuff in? We know the Baby plays with it over Shabbos....

Ah. Sorry. May BSM and FF always have lots of toys and lots of clean clothes. In different containers.

Not Quite One Week Later

Baruch Hashem, things have been quiet here in Central Israel since the cease-fire went into effect last Thursday. This means we're back to normal again: the boychicks are in school (and not at home) during the day and are sleeping in their bedroom (and not in the safe room) at night. 

However, they are still cognizant of where the nearest bomb shelter is at any time, and, honestly, so am I. We know we can stop checking for shelter, though, because the government is no longer requiring public bomb shelters to be kept open. We know the public bomb shelters aren't open anymore, because we couldn't help checking as we passed.

***

And because I love language: a cease-fire in Hebrew is a hafsakat aish. My kids were not the only children who heard there was a hafsakat aish, compared that unknown phrase to the known phrases hafsakat chashmal and hafsakat mayim (power outage and water outage), and reasonably requested additional details regarding this new utility suspension. 

Famous Last Words

For those of you keeping score at home, I counted to two thousand for FF last night. (Real 2,000, too, not 100 which is known by the alias of 2,000.) He insisted and insisted, so I said, "Fine. I will count to 2,000: one-thousand, two-thousand." And he was satisfied, and did not feel cheated.

Yes, that!

Oh, and here's another cleverness buried in my drafts. 

FF, who is wearing socks, places his feet in my lap. I have told him at least fourteen gazillion times not to touch people with his feet. BSM, who is watching, finally understands what I have meant in the past when I accused him [BSM] of a certain type of behavior.

Me: FF, don't put your feet on me.
FF: I'm not, it's just my socks.
BSM: Is he being willfully obtuse?
Me: Yes. That is a perfect example of being willfully obtuse. Don't do that. Also, FF, please don't put your socks on me, either.

FF removes his socks from his feet. I assume that he is about to put his socks on me while said socks do not contain said feet, but FF either gets distracted or thinks better of it. 

Clevernesses

One of the last things I do with the kids before bed is count for them. It used to be reasonable: when BSM was tiny, I wanted him to be able to recognized numbers (so I could set time limits using an analog clock, and he could watch the minute hand moving and know how much time he had left). To teach him to recognize numbers and get him comfortable with clocks, before bed each night, I would point to each number on his clock and name it. 

But the world has moved on, and now I just count for the boys because it's faster to count than to fight. However, I do have my limits: I will not count past 100. BSM eventually realized that he can request a number larger than 100 if he agrees that I count by 2's/5's/100's etc. (which he understands and does not feel cheated by). FF is still trying to figure out how this game works, but for him I do not count past 100. Not by 2's, not by 7's, not by 16's. (Because he does not understand this trick, and does feel cheated by it.) Just. No. 

But FF did finally find one workaround. "What number do you want me to count until tonight?"
"Two thousand!"
"No. I do not count past 100."
"Right, so two thousand. Ay Kay Ay one hundred."

Firstly, as we all know, that's one funny kid. Secondly, where did he learn the use and meaning of "a.k.a."?

***

I was setting up BSM for a school Zoom meeting the other day, so I started to close all of the other tabs open on his browser. He asked me to please leave one of them open, and I explained that I couldn't, because that tab was for a site which is inclined to randomly start playing audio. "No, but I already muted it!" BSM insisted. I started to explain what "randomly starting" means, when BSM showed me that it was all good:

So I learned something.

Everything I had Hoped and Dreamed

 We've had 16 rockets in Rehovot since Tuesday night. Conveniently, some of those have been within 10 minutes of each other, so we've had to go to the shelter fewer than 16 times. 

Maybe I'll write about it later, but let's just say I'm tired. The two big boys have been sleeping in the shelter since Wednesday night, so at least they aren't waking up in the middle of the night. But there's not room in there for all 5 of us to lay down, so Husbinator and I are still sleeping in our room and rushing down with the baby when the sirens wake us up. Husbinator says it's like having a newborn, but less cute.

ANYWAY, due to the whole rocket thing, the kids have been off of school since Tuesday. This means, among other things, that they did not have a chance to make the traditional pre-Shavuot School-Style Cheesecake. 

 I have a terrific no-bake chocolate cheesecake recipe that I love, but BSM rightly wants the type of cheesecake that he's had every year since he was 2 years old. All I know about this recipe is that (1) it must be easy enough for preschool kids to make, (2) it's no-bake, and (3) BSM says it has leben (like plain yogurt) and sugar.

So I Googled and Googled, but everything I found required either baking or whipping (or both). I asked the Israeli mothers on the group chat for FF's gan, and someone sent me something close, but it just called for so many ingredients. And a whisk.

Knowing there must be something easier, I posted on the local Anglo women's chat, and I struck gold! In addition to another recipe that calls for whipping so e cream I got two similar recipes from two different women: just mix together some gvina levana, some vanilla pudding mix, and, depending on the recipe, either some milk or some unwhipped whipping cream. Then, put it on top of either whole or crushed tea biscuits, and top with crushed tea biscuits. Done. 

This morning, I went out to the makolet with the boys, and we bought gvina levana. We came home, and the boys made each made a cheesecake with minimal help. YC tasted the filling and approves. Success!

***

The Recipe

2-3 T milk

30-40 g vanilla pudding mix

250g gvinah levanah

6-8 tea biscuits, depending how many crumb layers the kid wants, and how many crumbs he spills on the floor.

Pour milk in bowl.

Add pudding mix and stir until dissolved.

Dump in gvina levana and mix.

Layer with crumbs (or whole biscuits) as desired. 

I Can't Believe I Forgot!

This morning we are in limbo-land. Counters are cleaned but not covered, shelves are covered but empty. 

Somehow, I figured out coffee. (Electric kettle on the counter, disposable cup never put down.) Luckily, BSM and FF found their microwave cakes from two days ago, and ate those outside for breakfast. 

But what about BY? I offered him a banana and he scorned it. I peeled him a cuke (chometz peeler rinsed in cold water), and he gnawed on it for a little, but not enough to be breakfast. I considered rice cakes, but due to a chain of events that I assure you was reasonable at every step, the kitniyot is currently less accessible than the chometz.  At last I remembered the standard "there's no food" food. He is currently eating potato chips. 

We should have a functional Pesach kitchen by lunch time. 

So Much for That

Initially, FF did not want to go to gan today. He wanted to stay home with BSM (whose school decided, for financial reasons, not to have school on Fridays during COVID Times). I was patient but firm, and he eventually stopped arguing and accepted that yes, he was going to go to gan today. 

We made his sandwich, got him dressed, fed him breakfast. He's finally almost ready to go. Took his temperature. He has fever.

He's pretty excited. "See! I knew it! I'm not going to school today! We're all staying home today! Right we're all staying home together today?" 

Online Grocery Shopping

***Dedicated to Sister, who wants to keep reading my blog posts even though she got a new email address. I love you!!!!***

Many of the families in our community do their grocery shopping online. They say it's much better than schlepping to the store: just go to the website, fill your virtual cart, pick your delivery window, and voilà! Groceries are delivered to your door without the hassle and time commitment of actually going to the store.

It makes sense, but I always had reasons not to do grocery shopping online. The prices are probably higher online. You can't pick your own produce online. You have to plan out days in advance if you want to order online. It's probably hard to find the exact products you want on the website. You can never really trust that you'll get exactly what you want. You probably have to be on hold with people for ages to clarify and correct errors every time. Et cetera, et cetera. What it really boils down to, though, is that I enjoy in-person grocery shopping, and if it ain't broke, why fix it?

However, a few weeks ago, before Husbinator and I were fully vaccinated, our family had to quarantine (which might be called isolation in America, but whatever it's called, it's Israeli and therefore I'm going to brag and insist loudly that it's more hard-core than whatever youse Americans do) due to BY being exposed to someone in his daycare who tested positive for COVID. Thank G-d, we're all fine and we tested negative, but I had to find a new way to get food, since I couldn't physically go to the store.

Naturally, EmaII and AbbaII were all over this, bringing us care packages daily, but there's a difference between asking for milk and some cukes versus asking for an entire cart full of food. And if I need to write up a whole precise list anyway, why not try this "online grocery shopping" thing that everyone is raving about?

Long story short, we ended up ordering groceries online twice while were in quarantine. The first order was an impulse purchase from Yeinot Bitan (they were the only store with same-day delivery slots left when I decided at 6am on Friday morning that I was doing this), and once was a fully-planned, fully-loaded order from Rami Levy (their prices tend to be cheapest, and anecdotal evidence suggests that this is the store most often used by my friendly local online-shoppers). 

Gentle readers, it worked! Online grocery shopping felt empowering. It's a relief to know that even if I can't get to the store, I can still easily get lots of varied food for my family. 

Yes, the product selection was smaller, and yes, there was a 30 shekel delivery fee, and yes, many grocery stores have a 200-shekel minimum for online orders. And yes, Rami Levy played fast and loose with what I asked for, and no, I didn't get everything that I thought I was going to get from them. But the produce was fine, the substitutions (that Yeinot Bitan made with my consent and that Rami Levy made unilaterally) were close enough to what I actually wanted, it wasn't that much more expensive than shopping in-person, getting a refund from Rami Levy for the stuff that was on our receipt but not in our bags wasn't a hassle, and online shopping really was convenient.

Also, the Yeinot Bitan order came in 4 big cardboard boxes, which were a delightful surprise toy for a locked-in Shabbat that followed nearly a week of being locked-in already.

Successful Hike: A Photo Essay

When people ask about pretty walks in Rehovot, my friends tell them to try the "Winter Puddle." It's an undeveloped area right next to the beltway around Rehovot. Here are pictures. 

Looks stunning, right? 

I forget the context in which I tried to find this alleged water a little over a year ago, but I remember that I was carrying BY in a wrap, and FF was incredibly whiney. There was a beautiful breeze, and FF did not like the wind. He did not. He wanted to go home. He just wanted to go back to the car. He did not like the wind blowing on him. Please. He just wanted the wind to stop. So we walked back to the car and drove home without seeing more than a few dirt roads and lots of pretty grass, and feeling, apparently, way too much wind on our faces.

Last week, I seized the day and tried again with only BY strapped to my back. Gentle reader, he was also kinda whiny, which is totally not his typical state when taken for a walk. But too bad for him, I went and stayed and had a lovely time poking around the natural state of the Rehovot area of Israel.

I started out the same way I did a year ago, and drove as close to the "winter puddle" area marked on Waze/Google Maps as I could without tearing out the bottom of the car. From thence, it was on foot!

Having gleaned what little information I could from the map, I decided to go vaguely "straight and to the left" When I got to the first fork that would have taken me right, I saw what appeared to be an abandoned watchtower in the distance. Good: watchtowers are up; water is down. Granted, abandoned watchtowers are also cool, but we'll leave that for next time.

Continuing straight, left, and downward, I passed an abandoned house that looks somewhat interesting. Another thing to look forward to visiting later: I am a woman on a mission!

I kept at at it, and soon was in the same general vicinity in which I gave up last year. The road is so long! The occasional turns all look the same! But last year, I only met a fun woman and her preschooler who were also there for the first time and wandering in search of the alleged puddle. This time, I met a group of two teenagers with their younger brother, who were coming back from the water. The teenagers told me to keep going straight, and then to pass the cacti on my right when I could. The younger brother told me excitedly that there would be trees.

So I continued straight, and immediately after the first clump of cacti, I saw a very short, very steep path with an orange grove on the other side. It seemed right, but the way down was steeper than I wanted it to be with a baby on my back, so I kept walking. Also, it must have been later in the year when I visited last time (and thus browner vegetation), because I remember talking with the woman and her preschooler about trying to cross a ridge with cacti, but I definitely did not see such a clear path. 

Also, there were no kalaniyot last year, and those are early spring flowers.

I passed many more cacti and what I thought was industrial garbage.

 (On my way back, I stopped for a closer look and concluded that the boxes are, in fact, bee hives.)

What had seemed like an endless flat road petered out with a sharp turn to the right, and I crossed the cacti next to an abandoned car.

Upon passing the rise, I saw an encouraging sign!

And sure enough, I found the water. Do you think these are the natural swamplands in Rehovot that the Israeli pioneers planted eucalyptus trees to drain? 

My friends tell me that most years the "puddle" is bigger, but the silence and the birds and the wind rustling in the leaves and the water willows were gorgeous. I explored the area between the puddle and the cacti ridge fairly thoroughly, and then turned for home.

It did me good to get out for a short hike, and even more good to experience something closer to the natural state of the area where I'm living.

What Medical Privacy?

Look, requiring a certificate of presumed immunity to COVID (and hoped-for non-transmissability thereof) makes sense in certain situations. I'd definitely feel much more comfortable eating in a public area/exercising in an enclosed space/riding public transit/flying anywhere if I knew that everyone else sharing my air was either vaccinated against or recovered from COVID. 

But still, I feel like some medical-privacy line is being crossed, and that feeling only got stronger once I actually saw my Israeli-issued vaccination certificate (yes I blurred the document, and yes I got my second dose yay!!!):

It's valid starting a week after my second dose of the COVID vaccine, and expires six months after that. And what I didn't blur is what really sets the weird precedent. Look at the details of a medical procedure that I underwent! It's just... Weird.

Out of curiosity, I searched around to find out what a Recovery Certificate looks like. Those are valid immediately upon recovery from COVID, and current policy is that all Recovery Certificates have a blanket expiration date of June, 30, 2021. At some point before June 30th, the government will figure out what the law will actually be for bearers of this recovery certificate. (And if the past year has taught me nothing else, it's that "at some point before June 30th" will most likely be June 29th after 9 pm, and more likely after 11 pm.) Here's an example from the internet:

Still feels like a breach of medical privacy, doesn't it?

That's presumably why Israel also issues a general "Probably Not a Bearer of the Plague" Certificate, useful within Israel in lieu of both the Vaccination Certificate and the Recovery Certificate:

This "Green Passport" is just my ID number, an expiration date, and a QR code. Hmmm... I wonder what happens if I scan the code? Well, I'm not about to install the software to find out for sure, but per a Health Ministry press release, the QR code is purely a security measure to prevent forgeries, and scanning it with the correct Ministry of Health software should display the same information that's already on the Green Passport. 

***

As long as I'm posting, I'd like you to know that I have drafts of three blog posts from fairly recently, all of which are more fun (=less plague-y) that this one. 

Speak Politely

FF's teacher has a very reasonable rule that the kids have to talk politely in gan. FF has very reasonably carried that rule into the home. 

Now theoretically, I'm all for polite and classy speech. 

(I still remember Mooshub pretentiously explaining one Shabbos that he absolutely was not sweaty, because he only sweats on weekdays: on Shabbos, he prespires. I also remember my AP History teacher explaining, not at all pretentiously, that we should never excuse a friend's temporary absence by saying she is in the bathroom. A lady is never in the bathroom; she is indisposed.)

However, I am also in favor of unambiguous communication.

I don't just want FF to sit nicely, I want his tushy to be touching his chair. I don't want to know if FF has washed his entire body, I want to know if he's washed his tushy. Et cetera, et cetera.

Thus, his constant, reasonable rejoinders of a delightedly horrified, "That's not polite!" are driving me nuts. I have no idea what took me so long, but I finally figured it out. I taught FF that "bottom" is the polite way to say "tushy" in English, and so far, he's let me use the word "bottom" without criticism.

On the other hand, after a week or two of that, FF realized that he can now talk about tushies, which, even when you call them bottoms, still don't make for polite dinner conversation. See? Rules are there for a reason.

The Boy Can Talk

This post is dedicated to Sister, who told me that the standard age by which kids are supposed to say a few words is 18 months, not 12 months. This explains why the tipat chalav nurse and doctor only mildly hassled me about talking at BY's 12-month checkup.

However, last night, BY not only said an undeniable word (which he's done since my post of December 9^th, namely "ah" for "mezuzah" and "nah-nah" for "night-night"), but he communicated clearly and emphatically.

Behold, BY sitting in his high-chair actually eating some food and drinking some bottle. Behold, BY knocking over his bottle, signaling that he is done with that, thank you very much. Behold, BY waving both hands in the air, which is our sign language for being done. Behold, BY saying "nah-nah," which sounds insane, but the kid consistently gets all happy when I suggest going night-night after dinner. Behold, it's only 4:45. C'mon.

So behold, after a failed attempt to get BY to eat or drink anything else, I sign and say "all-done," which makes BY a happy baby. I pick up BY, who remains happy very briefly. When I don't make any move to take him upstairs, he starts saying "nah-nah" again. I try to deflect. He says "nah-nah" more loudly. I try to stall. He starts to cry.

Well, Husbinator and I look at each other and decide to put him down for the night. After all, this child is clearly exhausted, and it's only half an hour earlier than his earliest reasonable bedtime. 

So I ask the crying BY, "Yeah, go night-night?" And behold, BY immediately breaks into a huge smile and responds, "Nah-nah!" So we wish Abba night-night, and I take BY upstairs and put him to bed, and he falls asleep. Crazy kid.