What's "In"

"Too." She may have learned this at school. It seems to be based on a collectivist model of childhood. She almost always uses it incorrectly, referencing a phantom crowd of two-year-olds who are ostensibly competing with her for objects of desire. First thing in the morning: "I want yogurt shake, TOO." Spotting strawberries on the counter: "I want strawbies, TOO." Seeing her friend Joy has fallen asleep in the car seat next to her: "I want seep, TOO." She pronounces it "T'YEW," which makes her sound a bit like the Swedish chef from the Muppets.

"Owies." We've entered a new hypochondriac phase, in which Jarrah spends several hours a day fixating on miniscule scratches on her fingers and toes, and then, when her indignation overflows, crying lustily over these wounds while yelling "Owie! Ouch! Hurts!" She is briefly mollified with kisses, and a bit longer with "bandies," but she will remove the bandie within 10 seconds of application, while gazing at you as if it pains her to do so.

Lion Dancing. This one sounds too convenient, since Lion Dancing is actually a Chinese art form and an important part of Chinese culture like the New Year's celebration. But what can I say? Jarrah attended a couple of events with these huge-headed beasts (comprised of men bobbing up and down inside dragon-like colorful costumes) and their deafening drum accompaniment, and was hooked. She has fed red envelopes full of "lucky money" to the lions enough times to create a connection (showing me her little zipper purse with a dollar in it: "Yook, Mama. Lion Dancing money.") and David has created a monster by letting her view Lion Dancing videos from YouTube on his lap in front of the computer. Now he has to do it several times a day, and she never gets tired of them.

"Wha' doing?" Brand-new, super-useful, all-purpose question for those times when Mama and Dada are engaged in mystifying activities like cutting an apple, turning on the TV, getting dressed, brushing teeth or a host of other occasions when she is searching for a conversational gambit or some clever cocktail-party opener.

Joy. Pronounced "Choy." (To be fair, she's started pronouncing her own name "Charrah.") Chongqing cousin and totally awesome friend. Last week we watched Joy for the afternoon while Mary and Paul were shopping, and we wheeled the girls around town in the double jogging stroller (Thanks, Lisa!) to supreme cute effect. Amazingly, the day was not twice as hard with twice as many toddlers. They are a calming and focusing influence on one another. We went to lunch at Islands, we rode the carousel (Jarrah calls it "care of self") and the Balboa Park doot-doot (sadly, I must reveal that all doot-doots are now called "choo choo trains," thank you very much) and they couldn't have been sweeter together. It was more like spending the day with two cherubs. (Aw.)





Cousins. Last weekend, my brother Karl, my sister-in-law Carrie, and their two kids Stella and Ruby came to San Diego for the day, and Jarrah tried to do everything they did. The girls are 11 and 8, and Jarrah followed them relentlessly, laughing with delight when they threw her in the air or dragged her between them. They were very sweet with her, and all three had a great time.

Logo T-shirts. In a triumphant instance of nurture over nature, Jarrah is taking after her daddy in her sartorial sensibility. Dresses are okay, but the really whine-worthy, you'll-all-pay-if-I-have-to-take-this-off outfits have pictures and writing on them. She has even been known to cry if she's not given one to sleep with, like a lovey with advertising. Favorites: cherries and koalas. Especially koalas. (See? She does take after her daddy!)