My Sweet Blabbermouth

When you have a child, you wait breathlessly for that first word, that first verbal acknowledgment that yes, your sweet baby does indeed have the means to communicate with you, in a way other than sobbing.

Say mama, Poopy! Say Dada! (Yes. I called my son Poopy for the first 2 years of his life. I only quit when I realized that this was one of the major ways I would ruin his ego. Just the first of many, I’m sure.)

His first real word was ‘Hi’. He was 6 months old and the. smartest. fucking. child EVER BORN!!!

Well. My dear sweet little boy became a talker. With a slightly British accent. (I have no idea where that has come from.)

Now, at 7, having been talking, singing and generally making lots of sounds for only 6.5 short years, this child will. not. shut. UP!

I am honest when I say that his dad and I have asked him to please, PLEASE, just talk in his head for 10 minutes. Please. please. please.*whimper*

I hate doing it. But when my ears are ringing and I am so confused  by trying to keep up and respond that I can’t think and he bursts into song for the umpteenth time, I just want  some silence. Or some duct  tape.

I can’t ‘fake’ not hearing him. Oh no. If I do that, I get ‘Mom. Mom? Mom? Mom. Mum. Mum. Mum. MOM! MOM! MUM! MUM!‘ Ad nauseum. Until I bellow something motherly like “Ch my god, WHAT?”. To which he will reply, “May I ask if you heard me?”.

I told you. He’s like a little Brit. Many things are prefaced with ‘May I ask?’.

“Mum, may I ask why there are candy wrappers on the table in the morning? May I ask where you keep this chocolate of yours?”

He wants to be a cop when he grows up. I think he has a grand start on interrogation tactics.

By bedtime, his father and I are exhausted. We barely talk to each other. Just the odd grunt ,nod or point. We’re like Cave Men!!! (Well hubby kinda always was…).

Now my poor sweet boy has lost some teeth. ( Have you noticed how little kids go from being cute to being snaggle toothed freaks for a couple of years? Yeah, we’re in that time. I’m already window shopping at orthodonists offices.)

Release the Kraken!!!

Release The Kraken!!!

Poor guy. Missing all these important teeth has now given him a lisp. And a horrible case of the spit showers.

Sad part is that as much as I need some quiet, in a few short years, I’ll be begging him to talk to me. And I’ll miss my little blabbermouth.

21 thoughts on “My Sweet Blabbermouth

  1. You will miss him. Until he calls and starts chattering away oblivious to the fact you are in the middle of something and would never have answered the phone except that it’s your kid calling and you can’t not answer his call. Or until he breezes in for a visit and talks through every meal, through the news, through the baseball game you actually care about and through all the phone calls that come in. Which will drive you even crazier because he’s your kid and most days you miss him and you don’t want to miss a single word he says.

  2. Totally know how you feel Leanne. Paxton also has the gift of gab. I always thought boys talked less than girls, but not true in his case. I used to feel like I was in jail being tortured every time we got in the car because of the questions. My favorite was “If Santa was an alien, would I still get presents?”. How do you answer a question like that?!! Yeah, that’s how his mind works!

  3. Oh yeah they go from being right little chatterboxes to get a sentence out of them is like pulling hens teeth…………………….lol

    Although when I saw the title of this blog my first thought was has he gone and told someone that you would rather he didn’t. Children have a habit of spilling the beans to everyone about some of our very private happenings at home, well I hope it is all children who do that and not just mine

    Now Susan’s comment was something I can really relate to my precious daughter Kathy would ring me and if I was busy and didn’t have time to talke for ages she would get the shits with me sometimes she acts like I should just drop everything to talk to her, she isn’t as bad now she has a new boyfriend.

  4. that’s a cute story! Little Ella talks me to death sometimes, and Jack has his moments too. Yeah, I have to say, I really miss the ridiculously small, square teeth. All those little Willem Defoe teeth–gone forever 😦

  5. l love my little fuckers, and l miss them like hell when l travel and l don’t see them for a couple of days or even when l go to work. But (except for the brit thing) mines seem to “activate” the moment l get home. They won’t shut up neither not even under the water when playing in the tub.
    “she is doing so well in class” said MissAttitude’s teacher “the only problem is that she won’t stop talking… EVER”

  6. K. So The Boy insists on dental extraction. my dentist gives kids a coupon for free ice cream at the next door Baskin Robbins? Somethin’s fishy I say. Now The Girl… Or should I write Grrrrrrrl has a very pragmatic, slightly more engineered approach to tooth, err, loss. It involves… in this order: a shoelace, bungee cord, the boy’s back jean pocket, and the word “run!” i’ll let your imagination take that where it will.

      • The Grrrrrrrl is very clear about NOT having children. As she says “No way Mummy, let J (aka The Boy) have that job. Too much work!” at least she’s very clear on that point.

      • Brava, little sister! I like a girrrrrlllllllll that knows her own mind. Listen Smashface, Snarlface, whoever you are at this moment. I shall hitherto and henceforth refer to you as Sweetface.

  7. OMG please figure out how you got him to speak in a slightly British accent — I MUST do that with my future little Cynicism as he/she grows up. So friggin cute!

    • I have NO idea! It’s the weirdest thing and people have commented on it since he started talking! He does enunciate very well and his vocabulary is extensive. But now, at 7, he’s becoming ‘cool’ like the other kids and he’s using a lot of slang. Drat! Wait, maybe he gets it from me…

  8. My chattering-child-induced headache came back just reading about your little man. I only have myself to blame, as I seem to insist in engaging them in protracted discussions/debates over everything. I apologise now to the world.

Go on. Talk to Mama Duck.

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