“Chips please Mama.”
“No chips tonight, DorkySon.”
“Chips please Mama.”
“No chips tonight DorkySon. Get out of the freezer please.”
“Oooooooh! DorkySon’s fingers stuck in freezer Mama!”
There is something of a language explosion going on over here. I know that all parents must go through this, but I find it amazing that DorkySon, who a few months ago was unable to join more than two words together, is now able to spout complete sentences, and communicate exactly what he wants to me.
Spending two mornings a week at nursery has led to a noticeable difference in his toddler chat. I presume that having to communicate with people who aren’t as au fait with DorkySonSpeak as I am means that he has to work harder to pronounce his words and think about how to get his meaning across.
What I love most about this development phase is not just that DorkySon and I are now more able to have two-way conversations than we have been previously; it’s what those conversations are revealing to me about his wee character.
I am learning what sort of thing he finds funny, because when we are walking along he will, completely out of the blue, giggle and tell me something he remembers from reading a book earlier (“What a bad dog, stealing Mama’s party hat!”).
I’m learning that like me, he has a lot of memories associated with food (“Mmmm, watermelon, like we ate on holiday.” … “C and N are coming! And bringing cupcakes!”).
And I am learning that, like DorkyDad, he is a real charmer. I was getting ready to go out the other night and he came into the room, walked up and patted my leg, saying, “Mama has a pretty dress.” Earlier today I was showing him pictures on my iPod of his Canadian cousins, who he’ll be meeting soon. “Not that picture,” he said. “The picture with the pretty blue dress.”
The only flipside to the language explosion, which everyone warned me about, is the discovery of “No”. And “not”. And “doesn’t”.
“DorkySon doesn’t nap, Mama.”
“Not put jacket on, Mama. DorkySon doesn’t wear jackets.”
And, worst of all, “no kiss, Mama.”
Two years old, and he can already break my heart!
But, and this is a big but, I am warned there is worse to come… in the form of “Why, Mama?” I hope we have a way to go before he discovers that one.