Chatterbox

There's a line from the movie Shrek that really struck a chord with me. When Princess Fiona shockingly exclaims that Donkey can talk, Shrek says, "yeah, it's getting him to shut up that's the trick." Whoever wrote that line definitely has kids.

My oldest son was a very early and sudden talker. I have video of him taken at Christmas of 1999, and he was only blurting single words like the usual "mom" and "ba-ba". In a video taken just two weeks later, he was speaking in full sentences, and he was only about a year and a half old.

My friends used to get such a kick out of how much he liked to talk, and the things he was capable of saying. My memory isn't great, and I don't remember a lot of examples of his lingo, but I remember how articulate and witty he was. Older ladies used to approach him in the grocery store and gush over him, "oh, look at the cute little baby! Yes you are! Yes you are! A-pffffftt. A-pffffftt," while poking his belly. Much to their surprise, he'd usually reply with something like, "I don't know you, you are not a-sposed to touch me." He still looked like a baby, but talking to him was like talking to a five year old.

Here we are ten years later, and I promise you he hasn't stopped talking since 1999. The cute factor might have lessened considerably, but that hasn't affected the frequency. I often think he could be used by some police agency to crack criminals into cooperating, because this child could talk someone right to death. And ask questions? Either he's on the world's most epic quest for knowledge, or he just likes the sound of his own voice. Maybe a bit of both.

Some might say he gets it honestly, but that's besides the point.

In the past few weeks I've relived the "just learning to talk" scenario all over again, with my younger son. He's a late talker; he just turned three and only recently has he begun speaking in full sentences. And what sentences they are.
There is nothing funnier than a child finally being able to verbally express what they have probably been dying to get out for months and months.

Fits of frustration and screaming "no!" at the television and the fridge, have been replaced with, "Mom, want to watch Scooby Doo", or "not banana, want some cheese".
Better still, he's been absorbing the same songs and movies and phrases since he was a baby, so to hear him start singing the theme song from The Backyardigans word for word, is great for a laugh. He's nothing if not a fan of repetition, and the movies Cars and A Bug's Life (among many others) have played on a loop in this house for a long time. Now he can quote lines from these movies verbatim.

Unfortunately, my younger son isn't nearly as friendly as the other one was at his age. My older son would have talked to anyone, and usually did. The baby isn't as much of a people person, and strangers don't always get a great reception from him.

For example, the other day at the mall our cart was blocked by someone chatting in the middle of the aisle. My son had no bones about telling the shoppers, "you're in the way! Move your stuff, right now!" Some parents would be embarrassed by an outburst like this, but really, what can you do? They're kids, and they call it like they see it. As much as I hate to say it, I'm used to his abrupt proclamations in the middle of the dollar store; hey, at least he's paying attention.

And it's easier to forgive a few painful moments when they're normally so polite. My kids might regularly speak out of turn, but they have excellent manners. Even the three year old says "pweeze" and "fank you" and "skuze me", and my older son holds doors for people and knows how to give a proper apology.

When you're a stay-at-home mom with small kids, the funny stuff is what gets you through the day. Somehow or another, my youngest has just adopted a British accent, and greets me every morning with a "Hello, Roger!" as if he's straight from the heart of London. You'd have to hear it, but believe me when I say it's hilarious. Also, the vocabulary variations can be quite funny, and I've enjoyed many stories about "bunglebees", "chuckamilk", and how "peckeroni pizza smells like dog poop."

I suppose these years are called "the best years" for a reason, and when the constant chirping in my ear is almost too much to bear, I try to remember how lost we'd be in silence.