Out of the mouths of babes

In the last week or so the boys’ language skills have doubled, if not quadrupled.  They are now putting together a few basic sentences can say an ever growing list of single words and are more than capable of making themselves understood by pointing, grunting, stamping their feet and throwing away items offered.

They are constantly talking to us and to each other.  They will often sit down together and be in earnest conversation that only they can understand.  They sit for hours (in toddler time, so…minutes) and ‘read’ their books.  I’m consistently amazed at what they are capable of understanding.  Today, Bede bit Paddy’s hand – which was probably a bit of payback from some earlier biting incidents.  Later on, mum asked Paddy to hold Bede’s hand to which he replied ‘sore’ and refused.

Their new favourite word, and thing to do, is ‘swap’.  This can be their chairs at meal times (they’ve decided they’re far too grown up for highchairs), toys, people to put them to bed, books, drinks, food, bubbles(!)…the list is endless.

They have been able to say ‘ta’ for ages but now it’s a lengthy ‘taaaaa’ with an exaggerated upward inflection.  They have recently taken to trying to repeat words and simple phrases that are said to them and ‘here she is’, ‘I don’t know’, ‘off we go’ and ‘what’s that?’ are on high rotation.

I’m currently working on teaching them to say ‘help please’ when they require assistance.  I think it will be a nice change from the yelling and crying in frustration.  However they have possibly learnt this from me when I’m tackling a challenging task.

In the past, and to be honest, even now at times, I can swear like a sailor.  It’s not something I’m particularly proud of, but if one is to do something, one should do it properly.  I have been making a concerted effort to curb my language of late, at least around the boys.  On the other hand, I can count the number of times I’ve heard my mum swear on one hand and probably still have a few fingers left over.

Today we were at the children’s gardens in the Albury Botanical Gardens, which, incidentally, is awesome just in case you’re ever in the area, and after enjoying a pleasant hour or so of creative/sensory/nature (all the buzz words) play, it was time to go.  I’ve also been working on giving the boys a 5 minute warning before we do something and I was a bit smug that I managed to get them back in the pram with little fuss and no tears.  Mum was strapping Paddy in and accidentally jammed her finger in the seatbelt.  She was pretty calm about it and gently dislodged the flesh of her index finger and when she could breathe again she uttered, ever so quietly, ‘shit, shit, shit’.  And in truth, it would have jolly well (excellent use of a synonym!) hurt.  Upon hearing this, Paddy shrieked with delight and yelled ‘shit, shit shit’ and I know I probably shouldn’t have, but I laughed.  Poor mum was absolutely mortified.  And Paddy was as proud as punch with his new word.

He’s only said it twice since.  I’ve decided that I’ll ignore it and hope he stops.  And failing that, I just hope he’ll use it in context.

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