"Escar, escar, escar."

August 21, 2011

"Escar, escar, escar."

What does that mean, you ask? Well, ask Eli, who has his own little language. I know everyone thinks their kid is unique, but Dusty and I look at each other on a daily basis and conclude, "There is no other child on the face of the planet like THIS kid." He's obliviously happy. He can amuse himself by running in circles, while screaming, "I'm doing my circles, guys!!" I asked Dusty once, "Do you think there's any other kid in the world that runs circles to entertain himself?" He responded, "Well... not for THAT long. And, certainly not having THAT much fun." It's one of those things you have to see to get. It's not that he's running in circles, it's how he's doing it and the ear to ear, goofy grin that takes over his face. It's the fact that he can do it nonstop for 10 minutes, as excited as if it were Christmas Day.

Today, he picked up a pedometer that he found in the toy chest, thought it was a phone, and carried on a conversation with Spiderman for no less than 5 minutes.

He walks out of his room at night when he's supposed to be in bed and has the most random conversations with us. "Mom? Dad? Have you seen my super special baby triceratops? He's so special and he's missing. Have you seen his egg? I want to be an egg." "Eli, you're supposed to be sleeping. Go to bed." "Oh, yeah. Okay. Do you know how a monkey walks on four feet? With his gome gome. Hehehehehe. I so funny. Mom, you're so pretty and so nice. Can I lay next to you? Pwease?!?"

I mean, really - who the heck knows what goes through his head. He is the most random kid I've ever been around.

He often walks out of his room in the morning and proclaims, "It's Ellllliiiiii!!!"

He prays every night before bed. Every night. And every night, he folds his tiny hands with fingers intertwined, closes his eyes as tight as he possibly can and grins from ear to ear. He lifts his head to the ceiling and without fail says, "Dear God. Thank you for the invisible. (something random in between) Escar, escar, escar. AAAAAA-men!"

I just don't know. He gets "invisible" from the pledge of allegiance. They say it at school every day and end with "Amen", so I guess he's confused, thinking it's a prayer.

At the hospital the other day, he got very upset that he couldn't go in the nursery to see Reagan and Quincy. Grammy worked it out so the nurses opened the window so he could peer in. As soon as he saw them, his face lit up. With his ear to ear grin, he waved and cried out, "Escar, escar, escar!!!! It means YES!!!" Of all the things he could say, he had to tell them, "escar".

Now, don't you think you can go stealing his word. Maybe one day it'll be the new thing to say, but if you try to use it, he'll quickly remind you, "Hey. That's my word!"

Eli, he's just... a unique bird (as Dusty would say). We love him. There's not a day that goes by that I don't look at him 100 times and know my life would not be the same without him in it. Every time I see that lovable face with that goofy grin, I want to snatch him up and squeeze and kiss him. He's simply the greatest. Escar, indeed.