How did you grow today?

It is late Sunday afternoon, and we are in Sophie's future room clearing out the remainder of what used to be a craft room and catch-all for our household.

We are discussing what to do next and where to put the furniture once it is reassembled, and Cole is in the alcove where the changing table is (loaded with things still on their way out--stacks of magazines, Isabel Blooms, etc.), trying to move it.

He is obviously getting frustrated with the changing table and, likely, our lack of assistance in moving the table to wherever it is that he feels is a better place for it.

I ask him what he's doing and get, "I trying move it."

I ask him where to and get a bit of a rant about it that is hard to make out.

To this point, he has been trying to pick up the table and move it forward, against its length. He lays into this effort some more while we continue to talk about the room and our lack of motivation against the seemingly insurmountable list of to-do work and the ever shortening time (8 weeks) before Sophie shows up.

From the alcove we hear, "Look! I do it. I do it."

Cole has abandoned his headlong shoving of the table and adopted a more effective approach, lifting the end and pivoting the table on its long axis. He is obviously thrilled with his ability and success. Once he has cleared the table from the wall enough to access the back, he ends his Herculean effort and comments gleefully, "I getting my 'eeps n' ow-ns."

We look at each other confused, as he climbs behind the table, continuing,"Teacher Tracy tell me at school. I going 'eeps 'n ounds."

Two things are of note here: 1) he tends to associate a lot of what he knows and thinks to doctors and teachers. The teacher thing has been happening for a while, perhaps because we use the "Teacher Beth" card a bit too much, as in, "Teacher Beth wouldn't be happy to know you're up late on a school night." The doctor thing is more recent and likely the result of the numerous visits to the OB/Gyn, and often manifests itself as, "My doctor say I can't eat it," (referring to one of Melanie's dietary restrictions, and 2) the addition of a consonant makes the difference sometimes.

In this case, a "d" meant that he was growing in leaps and bounds, which made his announcement clear and adorable all at once.

Apparently, Teacher Tracy (one of three) has been remarking to Cole in school (you know, back a couple of month ago) how he has been growing in leaps and bounds. Hence, his being able to move the table translates into a moment where he was "getting" the leaps and bounds.

Up until that moment, I wasn't sure what that phrase meant. Now, I think I do.