When words gets meaning: what people forget to tell you

When your Sproglet first starts talking people are quick to tell you that any day now your little bundle of joy (often bouncing, bucking, bashing bundle of joy at this point) will suddenly start picking up new words quicker than you’d ever believe.  Blink and their vocabulary will have grown another ten words. You have to start watching what you say as they will parrot fashion every word that comes out of your mouth.  Whilst we are all united in wanting words like “please” and “thank you” to be repeated as much as possible, “oh bugger” isn’t something I really want Alby repeating at nursery.

And, as with all those other annoying clichés that come out of the mouths of parents, websites and books this is no lie.  To begin with every new word is a real joy. That said, I realised several weeks ago that I am no longer impressed when a new word comes out of Alby’s mouth.  Nowadays my eyebrows refuse to be raised for anything featuring less than three syllables.

For me first words do deserve great applause.  YouTube is no doubt filled with such clips posted by proud parents and so it should.  But rather than just preparing me for the excitement of hearing Alby’s babble turned into recognisable words I wish people had said more about how phenomenal it is when your child actually starts to understand the meaning behind the words.  Because that more than anything else leaves me constantly floored these days.

With understanding comes real communication.  And it is communication that the bonds of friendship are really made.

These days Alby gives me his order for breakfast.  He runs to his cupboard, selects the bowl or plate and cutlery that he wants and then stretches out his filled arms with the command “Mama up” so I’ll lift him onto the work surface where he overlooks my breakfast preparation.  He knows the names of almost all of his favourite things, undestands and follows instructions and is pulling together his own sentences.  Yes, usually these come about from him copying what I’ve said.  The other day he sat on the bottom step for what seemed an age shouting “Not today” as mimicked me, trying out the words in a variety of volumes, speeds and poses. But every now and then he not only comes out with his own instructions or sentences but they include words I’ve never heard him say before.  Driving into town the other day Alby pointed out the window and announced, out of nowhere, “Alby doctor”.  I point out every tractor, cow, sheep and lorry we pass but I’ve never pointed out our doctor’s surgery before.  Yesterday we drove to town and when we joined the motorway Alby squelled out “neeeowww racing cars, lots of racing cars”.  Not quite – just a fast road but you can’t argue with the Little Man’s reasoning.  Today a friend phoned me and Alby ran up to me pointing at the phone in my hand shouting: Narna tell-le-le-phon”.   It wasn’t Narna but double points for using a new word and triple points for it being a three syllable word, even if in Alby speech it was transformed into four syllables.

This evening Mark has been teaching Alby to shake hands with a “Hello, how do you do?”  It hasn’t taken long for Alby to grasp that you shake with your right hand and whilst Alby’s version has about four “do’s” in it, it’s perfect in my eyes.

Finally, another thing they don’t tell you – even toddlers can lose their voices.  Alby had a horrific cough last week which every so often left him with a rasping, croaky voice.  I don’t know why but I never imagined Trouble Monkey’s voice going at such a young age.  It would have been hilarious if it wasn’t so pitiful.  Oh who am I kidding, it was hilarious as well as being pitiful.