"Comment tu t'appelle" said the plastic giraffe...

In reading Glenn's cousin Drew's blog, I saw him mention that there are a lot of firsts as you raise children.  Granted, I don't have 4 kids like Drew does, but with a baby, the firsts seem to come every day.  Since last Friday, we have had two big "firsts".  

For every little boy, there is no doubt that at some point sports will come into play, no pun intended.  People have asked what sport we want Jamey to play.  Well, really, it doesn't matter. Football, basketball, swimming, soccer... we are fans of it all.  But whether he plays it or not, football will probably be something he gets exposed to as a fan, seeing as Glenn and I are both avid UVA football fans (although not so much lately) and of course, there are always the Westfield/Centreville games to deal with.  

Last Friday was Jamey's big introduction to sports, as we packed up and headed to the Westfield vs. Chantilly football game.  As we knew it would be a later evening, we bundled him up in pajamas and his Grammy-made Westfield bib.  As we strutted him around in his carrier, he got oohs and awws left and right.  Usually followed by a second ooh and awww as the person saw the bib.  While Glenn scoped out the players and the records of the teams, Jamey was probably most fascinated by the enormous stadium lights.  I can just imagine what was going through his head, "Those are the biggest lights I've ever seen!!!"  He did his usual thing: stare, turn his head, stare some more, take it all in, stare at the lights, and after a while, fall asleep when it all seemed boring.  That's right-- our son fell asleep at a football game surrounded by insane Westfield fans.  Keep in mind that Westfield is the largest 4 year high school in Virginia, so this wasn't just a dozen groupies hanging around.  This was a CROWD!  In fact, the only time he freaked out was when Westfield made their second touchdown and everyone around us jumped to their feet and shrieked simultaneously.  Not what you want to wake you out of a dream!  So I took him down out of the stands and just after that, at half time, we took the little man home, knowing that Westfield would win anyway (which of course they did at 32-7).  Needless to say, this will not be Jamey's last football game, and next time, hopefully, he will start to notice those tiny little people running around down there.  

And what, might you ask, was his other first this week?  Well, it actually

 just happened this evening before dinner.  It all has to do with the plastic giraffe mentioned in the title of this entry.  As part of a package, Jamey received a small plastic squeaky giraffe from my Aunt Pat and Uncle Don in Canada.  It made me happy because I remember having such a giraffe named Jerry, when I too was little.  This giraffe, though, as stated on its packaging is named Voolee (I don't know how you spell it, but that is how you say it) and Voolee is French (I am guessing he hails from Quebec).  Jamey took quickly to Voolee and enjoyed grabbing him by the leg and swinging him around until he hit himself in the head with Voolee.  

(Note: The giraffe in the picture is "Voolee's mother", a stuffed giraffe that I have named Carter after the student of Glenn's that gave him to us.  Note also, that while Voolee speaks French, Carter is a German.  I have yet to meet the father, who I am sure is a Dutch speaker.  This allows me to use all the different languages I know, while I play with Jamey)

Lately, I have been trying to entertain Jamey with different toys and today, it was Voolee's turn to take on a whole personality to go along with his squeak.  So I laid Jamey down on his blanket on the floor and began to have Voolee speak to Jamey.  Now, of course, because Voolee is French, he speaks French with a thick Parisian accent.  (Okay, so I don't know for sure that it is a Parisian accent.)  But because my French isn't like my German, and doesn't always come 

flowingly, I stick to simple sentences that Voolee can say to Jamey. 

 Things like, "What is your name?", "What did you say", "What do you want to play"  "My name is Voolee.  I speak French.  Do you speak French" and of course, "You are a big boy, but you are also a good boy!"  Occasionally, I will say longer sentences, but Jamey doesn't seem to like these as much.  I soon found that Jamey was entirely amused by Voolee's French.  The intonations probably sound funny to a baby in a way that the German he so often hears does not.  Listening to me/Voolee talk, Jamey opens his mouth in his giant grin and his eyes light up.  

Tonight, as I was cooking dinner, Glenn was playing with Jamey and Voolee, but had yet to see Voolee come to life.  So in a moment of peace in the cooking, I ran over and let Glenn watch how amused Jamey was by Voolee.  And this time, when Voolee asked "What did you say?" in French several times in a row, Jamey let out an honest to goodness laugh!  First one ever!  I have yet to make it happen again, but it was there and we both heard it.  So maybe our son was French in a former life and is laughing at his mother's terrible accent, or maybe he is laughing at the idea of a giraffe who speaks French.  Who knows....

And speaking of things Jamey does now, this video shows how Jamey can snore, just like some other people that we know...  He doesn't do it all the time, but it is just another of those little noises he can make.