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Monday, November 9, 2009

Goo Goo Ga Ga Oo Boo Booky Shmooky Shmoo

Baby Talk
Since I had Baby T, I am constantly making up words that don't exist. Monkey became Monk, and suddenly it was "Hi little monk-bunk! I missed you today!" When Baby T would cry bloody murder in his car seat, I found that the faster and louder I talked, the more likely he was to stop and listen to me. "MonkeymonkeymonkeymonkeyMOO monkeyMOO! MonkeymonkeymonkeymonkeyMOO monkeyMOO!"

This actually became a little rap (a la Jenni Pulos from Flipping Out):
MonkeymonkeymonkeymonkeyMOO monkeyMOO
Monkey MOO said "Who are you?"
Tieren said "I'm Tieren, who are YOU, Monkey Moo?"
Monkey Moo said "I'm a monkey that moos."
Tieren said "Monkeys don't moo"
Monkey Moo said "Well, I do. So whachoo gonna do?"

Honestly. It makes him stop crying. He probably thinks it's ridiculous.

Muchkin became Munch. "How's my little Munch doing?" Or when I talk to the dog: "Hi my big Munch!" Big T said to me the other day, "Everything isn't a munch, you know." Um, I know. I just can't help it anymore. And the songs. Put any tune to "My little poopie monkey, how are you? Get em out, get em out, farteroo!!" Again from Big T: "Why does everything have to be a song?" It entertains Baby T... Geeez. Actually, it just slips out. The words and songs leave my mouth before I can stop them. I can't wait until I see my boss in the kitchen: "Hey, time for lunch, munch?" [Sings] "Get the soup out of the microwave doop doo doo. Before it explodes and makes a mess badoo, badoo."


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