“Though he probably says about 50 to 70 words now, your child may understand as many as 200 words, many of which are nouns. Between 18 and 20 months, he’ll learn words at the rate of 10 or more a day.” (Babycenter.com)
He dances and runs and jumps.
He holds a pencil correctly and inquires about letters on everything.
He will bring us book after book after book–especially My Truck is Stuck and Where is the Green Sheep?
He has recently discovered lying on his tummy in the bathtub in order to “swim”.
He runs at me with his full speed to hug me.
He blows sweet kisses and waves to me at bedtime.
He wants me when he has an owie or is super sleepy or has a nightmare.
His first word was “octagon” while playing with a talking puzzle.
Now he says “up” and “moo” and “aw bye” and “bawl”.
Other words are just one syllable or sound of the whole: “bon” for (banana), “juuuu” (juice), and “onnn” (one)
And every single night, he asks, “da ee”? (daddy)
He is an amazing, loving, sweet, vivacious….20 month old.
My 20 month old.
The boy who turned me into a mother, but has never uttered a word to prove that.
Yes, his actions show his love for me. I do not doubt his love.
This isn’t about his love.
I know he will say it. I know. I know he will say it to the point that I am sick of it. I have been told that over and over.
But I still long for it. I fixate on it. I beg him to say it.
Not just because I want to hear, “mommy,” but because he is 20 months old.
I have already heard what
you so many people have to say:
“He is a boy; he is naturally slower.”
“My nephew/my friend’s son/all my kids/husband/I/aunt’s cousin’s nephew’s daughter didn’t talk until they were well over two.”
“As longs as he is interactive…”
“just keep talking to him; he’ll come around…”
I know that it’s technically not that out of the ordinary, and it’s not something to be truly concerned about. I know this.
But as he babbles and “talks” and says words, I can’t help but think about how he doesn’t have close to 50 words, like babycenter.com says he should have…and I am mostly ok with that because his babble says he is on his way.
What I hate? Is that he says “octagon” and not “momma”.
I have struggled for everything with this little boy.
It was a challenge (and many MANY blood draws and pills taken) to keep him in my tummy.
It was a painful battle to like him when he was my tiny miracle through all the crying–both his and mine.
I had to claw my way out of a deep, ugly hole to enjoy the little things like the way he turns into me when he is sleepy.
We are so similar in temperaments that when there is frustration between us? It is a challenge to not kill each other.
There is no word in his vocabulary for me.
Does he have one in his head?
Does a small voice in his brain shout it into the echoes of his heart when he sees me or scream it desperately in his soul when he is afraid?
What does that word sound like on his lips? In my ear?
I am a mother. HIS mother.
But no one in this world calls me that.