def: "Bouf" as in "Stop boufing your brother!"

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So my insane, lunatic children have some words that are just their own. Case in point:

“Bouf”

Now none of my kids can confirm the spelling of the word, but even the 2-year-old knows what it means.

Bouf, verb. To sucker punch your brother in the bottom. Alternate meaning: to smash your brother in the bottom using only your own bottom. Extra points for knocking your brother onto the floor and making him cry.

No joke, they’ve done this for about a year. And it has gotten to the point where I have outlawed it. But of course, you know what that means.

“When you outlaw boufing, only outlaws…”

What am I saying — that would imply that my kids listen to me. All it means is that I am now using this ridiculous made up word as part of my day to day vocabulary. Yes, that is as sad as it sounds. But believe me, it was all made worthwhile today when 2-year-old Chip ran up to me crying:

“Mommy, Robbie boufed me!”

How the hell am I supposed to not laugh at that?

I believe this post is why people hate mommyblogs. Some things Chip does that I love.

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I can’t help it… I just have to tell you about funny things my two-year-old says and does. It’s a compulsion, and I’m sorry.

hulla1.jpg

He plays Hullabaloo by himself. He gets out the box, puts down all the mats, and turns on the game. He doesn’t really do what the announcer says to do (surprise, surprise) instead he runs around to each mat pretty randomly. I love to watch it!

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How about this one — he’s trying to teach me Spanish. He is, in fact, a very patient teacher, which makes sense since the people he knows who speak Spanish are the same way.

Every day at school his teachers speak a mix of Spanish and English. Today he was eating a snack of some Annie’s Bunny Crackers on my lap and offered me some.

“Bunz cacowez, Mommy? Try bite? Mas?”

Then he starts counting the crackers. “One two three cacowez, Mommy!” Followed by “Uno dos tres! Tres cacowez!” And no, he only gets the number right by accident, so I know he’s not really counting (sheesh) but he really is trying to broaden my horizons culturally-speaking.

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You want another? OK, cool. Every day in the parking lot at school we see a purple PT Cruiser. Chip LOVES THIS CAR WITH THE PASSION OF … well, the passion of a two-year-old.

And every day when we see this car, Chip freaks the heck out. As in yelling “PURPA CAH!! PURPA CAH!! DER IT IS PURPA CAH!!!”

But lately his love of this car has moved to a new level. He’s trying to initiate a more permanent, lasting relationship with it. When we walk by, now he introduces himself:

“HI PURPA CAH!!! I CHEDDA!!”

As if she were your own child

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Please read today’s wonderful post over at The Naked Ovary. I’ve harped on you all enough about adoption language and now it’s Karen’s turn. She brought her daughter home from China recently and has been writing really great, thoughtful posts about her experience.

But here’s my favorite part, mostly because it made me tear up:

…this morning Maya climbed on my lap and gave me a spontaneous hug. Then she pulled away, looked me dead in the eye, and patted my chest. “Mama,” she said. I smiled and said “yes!” And then my daughter kissed her hand–MUWAH!–and placed her hand on my mouth.

That’s the good stuff :)