“I can’t wait until my son starts to talk!!! How cute! Btw, congrats!”
Lisa at http://bitesforbabies.com commented on my last post, after I included a few “Things Kylee (my 2-year-old niece) Says” to my post. My reply, “They are cute Lisa, but I haven’t written my post yet about my niece’s constant babbling and my sister biting her tongue so she won’t tell Kylee to “Shut the hell up!” hopefully prepared Lisa for this post and didn’t scare her away 🙂 Sorry if I frightened you, Lisa.
But anyone with walking, talking children, know that I’m right. We impatiently await our children’s milestones making comments just like Lisa’s “I can’t wait for my child to (walk, talk, run, write, go to school, swim etc.), and then as soon as they do we are blubbering to our friends and family, “Where did my baby go? She grew up so fast!”
I’ve been there, time and time again. I remember I couldn’t wait for my twins to walk. It would make life so much easier. I wouldn’t have to lug both of them around on my hips anymore, Yay! Though it was good for sculpting that post-pregnancy body, I was beginning to develop back problems, and I would be very happy to be able to put them down and let them do their own navigating. OK people who’ve “been there, done that,” stop chuckling or outwardly laughing at that. It’s bad enough the things one child gets into once they start walking. My youngest knocked a chair into a cabinet and shattered the glass all around himself after he got his pedi-freedom. But that was nothing once my twins found their walking shoes. Every time they disappeared, I feared what I would find as I turned another corner — dog enveloped by a jar of fluffernutter, sister wrapped in scotch tape, both partners in crime covered with vaseline, butter, hand soap. Yup, fun times.
Then there was the talking … Kenna was a lot chattier than Max, and I remember wondering if he’d ever catch up. Well, I can assure all my readers, at almost-13 he has done that and then some! Please don’t judge, but a common phrase in our home is, “Max stop talking!” Notice there is no please in there. We are way beyond being polite about this request. I love him, but the constant chatter, like this morning while I was trying to recover from an evening of vomiting (stomach bug, no drinking involved in that one) by sitting silently with a cup of coffee and watching HGTV, can drive someone batty. Like the clutter in my home clutters my brain, thus too does Max’s chatter. Sorry, buddy!
Then there’s Shea, my youngest. He’s been talking in full sentence since he was about 15-18 months old. I’m not kidding. I remember telling people, “My son, no he doesn’t say ‘Baba, pease,” he says, ‘Mother, can you please get me a bottle, on the rocks, shakin’ not stirred, and move your a*s! I’m thirsty!” Now at 10, he constantly tries to make everything into a joke, though not all of them hit a comedic homerun. Then there are the questions, and the questions, and the questions. I know I should use my optimism and relish in the fact that he is so inquisitive which will serve him well in the future, but seriously … Can you at least stop the inquisitions from the other side of the bathroom door? I want to read my Star Magazine and, well you know, in PEACE!
I know my sister, who rejoiced in the fact that she could finally communicate with her toddler, can relate. My niece does not stop. Each time I call my sister you can hear her babbling on in the background. “Is that your daughter?” I always ask. “What’s she talking about?” Most of the time my sister isn’t sure. “Who knows,” she’ll reply “She’s probably (singing to her dolls, talking to the cat, reading a book out loud, etc. etc.)” That girl is in ongoing traveling conversation, though I’m not sure who she’s talking to. We still laugh at “Things Kylee Says,” but even my sister has been known to think, “For God’s sake Kylee, don’t you ever shut up!” It’s when she starts saying it or even steals the phrase reserved for Max, “Kylee, stop talking!” that I will sit back in my big-sister smugness and laugh at her.
Our indecisiveness as parents is confusing. We want them to talk, we don’t want them to talk. What I say to that is, BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR. My daughter, who is quickly approaching 13, has suddenly stopped talking to my husband and I. Our questions about her day, her practices, the movie she just watched, are met with grunts, “I don’t know”s, and “I don’t remember”s. Frustration abounds as we inquire more and she digs in her heels, purses her lips, and still we are no closer to getting an answer. At a time when getting answers to questions like “What do you want for breakfast?” are the least of our worries, her silence is concerning, and we are trying to find ways to bridge that gap, and continue communicating with our daughter. Any suggestions?
I’m now seriously rethinking my interaction with Max this morning. Did I really just tell my almost-13-year-old son to stop talking to me? Probably not the best idea I’ve ever had. So, I’m making a promise to myself, and my children, that I will not ask any of them to stop talking anymore. This should be interesting! I can just imagine the plethora of material this will provide for future posts.