Anyone else wish they'd invent Shazam for toddlers?
It can be the most infuriating thing when your child is so desperate to communicate with you, but you can’t understand a sodding word they’re saying. I’m sure it’s equally, if not more infuriating for them? But when living these, indecipherable moments, I certainly battle with my own internal turmoil.
At two and a half, my eldest son started to say a random collection of words that, to him, made complete sense, but to the rest of human kind, meant absolutely nothing!
These were those words - “I want a like... I want a like!”
At an age now where I can (mostly) communicate with him, in some sensical form, I did, what any parent would, and asked him what a “like” was. Only to be faced with the same statement repeated… incessantly
Him: “I want a like… I want a like”
Me: “Yes darling, I know. But what is a ‘like’?”
Him: “I want a like... I want a like… I want a like… I WANT A LIKE””
And so this went on… and on… and on...
And as his voice raised, so too did my blood pressure
As our children learn the art of language, there is a time when only we (the parents) actually know what our children are saying. During this parenting phase, and when we are in the company of other adults (and particularly other parents with children of the same age), we repeat what our child says, proud that our child is, at last, making some kind of sense … and also desperate to make it obvious to others what these half formed words and mispronunciations actually mean.
“He really is very clever isn’t he… Yes, yes I know it sounded like ‘baba’ but he was in fact saying ‘bubbles’. Honestly, he’s been saying it for 8 whole days now!”
But on this occasion I was at a complete loss, racking my brain trying to decipher his words but not coming up with any sensible answers that even vaguely satisfied his now desperate and SHOUTING repetition of the statement.
Him: “I WANT A LIKE… I WANT A LIKE”
Me: “Yes sweetheart, I know you REALLY want a ‘like’ but mummy doesn’t know what a ‘like’ is. Could you tell me?”
... and while these were the actual words that were coming out of my mouth, the truth of the matter was that internally I was screaming “WHAT THE F*&K IS A F*%KING LIKE???? JUST TELL ME CHILD AND I CAN HELP YOU!!!! WHAT THE F&*K IS A F*£KING LIKE????”
Motherhood has highlighted (or perhaps brought with it) the ability to have two conversations going on at the very same time: the outward one, patient and calm and the internal one irritable, extremely impatient and full of obscenities. For the most part, I try and keep the former as the one that actually comes out of my mouth, but who am I kidding… I’m by no means perfect and the latter occasionally exits my voice box unintentionally.
On this occasion, however, I was somehow remaining calm.
My son then climbed down from his chair and made his way to the snack drawer and proceeded to open it while repeating the words. “I want a like”
The penny then dropped
Me: “Oh, you’re hungry”
Him “Yes, I want a like”
And so, at last, we were able to solve the problem.
With the benefit of hindsight, I can only assume that his understanding of this statement came from me asking him “Would you like a … Banana/biscuit/drink etc?” but that’s my rational brain thinking things through… and when my first son was born, all rationality went cascading out of the window and as yet, hasn’t returned, so I don’t really know.
For the last two months I have been working on the assumption I drew on that day, that each time he says “I want a like”, that he is hungry and I offer him some food which he generally accepts.
Last night I was confronted with the realisation that I could well have been over feeding my son since this fateful day, as while we were settling down to a quiet 10 minutes in front of the TV before bed, he looked at the telly and pointed to an episode of Peppa pig and said “I want a like”.
F%&k f&*k f*&ckety f**k f@%k - Here we go again !!!!
And that’s why SHAZAM would come in very handy for toddlers.
So if any technology whizz’s of future happen to be reading this… please invent an app to SHAZAM MY TONGUE TANGLED TODDLER.
(Maybe I'll get it in time for number two?)