While in Target the other day, I heard some brat whining in the toy aisle, “BUT I WANT IT NOW, NOW MOMMY! YOU DON’T LOVE ME MOMMY!”
I looked at my sweet nearly 3 year old Moose, and smiled. He usable vocabulary of Mom, Eat, Love, Dada, and Nana made me grateful, for that small shining moment, that I don’t have to hear the whining in the toy aisle for some time.
Of course, I would swim in shark-infested waters to get my kid to talk. To say his name. To tell me he’s two. To say, I’m sorry when he bears down with his barracuda teeth on my leg. To tell me, “No banana! Apple.”
These small phrases are things most parents take for granted. This mom of the aforementioned whining child dialed her cell phone and called Santa. Child immediately shut up.
Things I am sick of hearing from people:
1.) So and so’s (insert_____(brother, sister, godson) didn’t talk until the age of _____
2.) He’ll be fine.
3.) You worry too much.
4.) Why do you have him on that special diet again?
5.) If you didn’t read to him so much when he was younger, he’d talk more. WTF!
6.) He’ll talk when he’s ready.
Each morning I run into his room, and wait for him to say, “Okay, Mama. I am ready to talk now.”
Until then, no matter who placates me with pleasantries from the list above, I will worry. And google. And ferment my frustrations into this blog.
But who knows…there’s always hope because I left the best for last.
7.) Einstein didn’t talk until 5. And look at him.
So, I bought Moosepie an Einstein teeshirt. To remind me that, yes, one day the words will come. And I will laugh at myself for spending countless hours on google. For baking GFCF goodies. Shit, one day he may win the Noble Fucking Peace Prize.
Until then, “words like violence, break the silence”…
Oh, dr. google…. no good came come from it.
True…Google can cause hysteria, but it least is a jumping off point for further questioning…