At the age of two, our son is quite the chatterbox, especially in the comforts of our home. He often strings together a series of thoughts in a two-minute monologue. I manage to catch snippets of his words, allowing me to engage in the conversation with comments like “Oh, really?” or “Is that so?”
My husband and I are coming to the realization that our little one is a verbal sponge, absorbing every word and mimicking our phrases like an oversized, featherless parrot. To manage this, I have been substituting alternative exclamations for my occasional, less-than-polished remarks. Expressions such as “Aw, shucks” and “shoot” have become my go-to replacements for more colorful language from my past. My son’s particular favorite, which elicits uncontrollable giggles, is “Mother of PEARL.”
Recently, while seated around the dinner table, my husband excitedly shared his success in metal recycling. “Do you remember how much you teased me about saving all those cans in the garage?” he asked. “Mmmm-hmmm,” I replied, scooping out Brussels sprouts while our son protested with a loud, “Nooo bussel spouts!” I recalled the unsightly piles of aluminum cluttering our garage, but I still was not fond of the sight of cans piled in his wooden wagon.
“I got fourteen dollars for those two bags. Plus seven bucks for the old radiator from the car,” my husband continued. Our toddler, now fully engaged, joyfully repeated, “Seven bucks, seven bucks!” This week, he has also added phrases like “four times”—a delightful assortment of words that only he seems to comprehend.
Reflecting on my childhood, I remember how my Italian grandmother taught my sister and me to say the most random phrases in her melodic language, such as “I’m single with two kids” or even cheekier phrases. My mother would chuckle and remind us that we’d eventually have to explain their meanings. I still recall how to say certain colorful expressions in Sicilian slang, much to my husband’s dismay, as he hails from a more proper English lineage. He is often taken aback by my humorous anecdotes from my upbringing, but I find comfort in knowing I can share these experiences with our son in the future.
A few weeks ago, during a Facetime call with my sister and her three daughters, she mentioned the new color of her front door: Black Fox. Our son enthusiastically echoed “black fox,” which, with a British accent, sounded suspiciously like a particular four-letter word. The two of us erupted in laughter, especially as he leaned into the camera. My husband, however, cautioned that what we find funny now may not be amusing later.
We’ll leave the task of correction to his kindergarten teacher when the time comes.
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In summary, parenting at this stage is filled with humor and surprises, as our child mimics our language and behavior with delightful innocence. Navigating through this phase requires us to adapt our language while cherishing the memories we are creating together.
Keyphrase: parenting conversation development
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