Who’d a Thunk?

The site of my very first blog closed down recently. We had a couple of weeks of warning, so I at least had time to salvage my posts. In the process of moving them, I found this one, written a year ago to Squish.  The amazing news is his unwillingness to talk has been replaced with an inability to be quiet. Sometimes it’s important to remind myself how far we’ve come.

Can you see what I'm saying?

Dear Pooperpants,

I was writing to suggest that, as you have been on this rock for nearly a year and a half, it might be time to learn some of the lingo. I’m not expecting that you will stand up in your crib and recite Hamlet’s Soliloquy, but it would be fabulous if our daily conversations consisted of more than a point, a grunt, and a squeal. I’ll work on it if you will.

I know we’ve talked about it before, and you don’t want to hear that your brother and sister both had 30 word vocabularies by this age. Just like I don’t want to hear that  by the time your brother and sister were this age, I had lost all my baby weight.We just won’t go there, ‘kay?

I really don’t want to pressure you, but it is so hard spending the day with someone who has the communication skills of a gibbon. I am, of course, charmed that you have learned to say “Zoot alors!” But a mild expletive from the  “Little Mermaid” does not great communication make. How about something useful? Like a verb.

I have such a hard time telling what you want from me sometimes. “Da-da” and “Di-di” sound so similar.  Granted, they are both sometimes full of the same thing. But it would be great if I could tell the difference between “Yippee! Daddy’s here,” and “I dropped a deuce, can you change me?” Although truthfully,  I can usually figure that one out by smell.

I appreciate your assistance in helping me figure out Squishy-speak. But it’s a little too much like playing “Hot and Cold” with a booby-trapped twist. You point, you squeak, and if I hand you the right object, I get the big eyes and theatrical round, surprised, happy mouth. Guess wrong, and I get The Tantrum. Fun times.

Even the whole sign thing has gone down poorly. You’ve shown as much interest in American Sign Language as in studying Tibetan Buddhism. A lesson for another time.

Oh, dear one, there is a whole world waiting for us when we share a common tongue. I want to know what you are thinking, what goes on behind those big bright eyes. I get impatient for you to share it with me. But I will wait. And we’re not totally incommunicado. When you lay your head on my shoulder and rub my arm, I think I understand you just fine.


7 thoughts on “Who’d a Thunk?

  1. I’ve been reading your blog since you posted the link when our beloved website went down. Perfect timing of your post. It reminds me to have hope that Justin will one day start talking.

  2. Isn’t it strange how eager we are for them to talk? To listen to my girls, you’d think they fear silence. I adore them, but I wouldn’t mind the occasional (temporary) return to their pre-verbal stage.

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