Since I mentioned ‘baby talking’ yesterday, I figured it would be the perfect topic to write about tonight being that it’s pretty fresh on my mind.
To me, baby talking your kid is the equivalent of feeding them paint chips.
How exactly is “awww wittle beeebeeeeee booboo poo pooooo” helping your child to mentally grow? That’s not how I want Holden conversating with me once he’s actually able to. It’s fine for talking to dogs, maybe they think you’re stupid for doing it as they cock their head to the side and raise their eyebrows in confusion- but they’re never going to learn to speak in any language other than BARK, so what does it matter really? Babies are eventually going to learn actual language, so why impede that by talking jibber-jab to them? It might seem silly to try and have fully intellectual conversations with them (although I get a kick out of it), but isn’t it sillier to talk to them like they’re a puppy?
From all i’ve read, studies have proven that infants respond better to higher pitched voices- so it makes sense to talk to them in a voice that sounds like you’ve been sucking helium- it doesn’t make sense to talk to them like a voice that’s sounds like it’s sucked helium after being hit by a baseball bat.
I have always been anti-baby talking. I can’t stand when people do it to Holden, but to save myself from conflict I just bit my tongue. I knew Holden wouldn’t be around the people that do it enough to really dumb him down- but that doesn’t mean it didn’t get under my skin. I’ve also noticed it’s really only the older generation that still baby talks. I’ve yet to meet someone around my age who talks to Holden like he’s the family pet.
The older Holden gets the lower my tolerance gets for people baby talking him. He understands real words, maybe not all of them- but i’m surprised in how much he DOES understand.. so when someone walks up to him and starts spewing baby talk out of their mouth like diahrrea I have to clench my fists. I really want to say something, but i’m not sure how without sounding like an anal bitch. Just TALK TO HIM LIKE A HUMAN, he is one after all! Don’t click at him, don’t ‘beeebeeeboobooo lalalala’ at him- if it doesn’t make sense to you.. it doesn’t make sense to him. For all you know, what he’s saying could actually make sense in his toddler-brain, and you jibber-jabbering back is like speaking Russian. He doesn’t get it!
Maybe I should construct a sign and post it outside our front door that says “baby-talking free zone, violators will be prosecuted”.. or hell, make him a shirt that says it so it’s portable and EVERYONE knows not to do it no matter where we are.
I look forward to the day where someone bends down to Holden and starts baby-talking him and he backhands them across the face and says “Cut that crap out! Who do you think you’re talkin’ to??”.. knowing Holden, the ‘crap’ will probably be a ‘shit’- but I digress.
In my ‘close’ circle of friends- I am the only one with a child. I think I may be the only one even interested in having children, hell- you might say i’m the only one who even likes children.
It’s not as bad as it sounds, though there are more down sides than up.
I can’t tell you (unless you already know what it’s like) how funny it is to watch how my friends interact with Holden. Some act like he’s a fragile piece of glass- any little fall and they jump out of their chairs freaking out like he’s going to die. It’s expected to be shocked when you haven’t been around a baby very often if ever, and they fall and conk their head on the floor to think the world is about to end- but it’s still hilarious to see the look of fear in my friends’ eyes. Hilarious and sweet at the same time. Even though they loathe children, they love my little stinky… or they say they do anyways. And the even more shocked look on their face when they realize that I really don’t even bat an eye (unless it’s a very bad fall).
A lot of my friends, I think assume that all children are disgusting blobs of filth. Sure, Holden is crusty sometimes when I just can’t get all the ridiculously stuck-on food off of his face.. but I wouldn’t call him dirty or gross (although his sweaty little baby hands attract hair and lint like nobody’s business). Holden goes walking up to them and they fear touching him at all, as though their hands will instantly get covered in baby shit or drool. The drool thing might be a semi-valid fear, but Holden keeps his stinkies pretty well contained.
I do have to warn my friends that Holden bites- and to watch your thighs or his mouth will latch on and not let go. And that he thinks it’s hilarious when you try to stop him.
The thing that I absolutely love about these friends- is that they talk to Holden like he is a human and not a freaking puppy. No baby talking, ever. I plan on writing a blog about all of my thoughts on baby talking- but I can tell you now that I absolutely HATE it.
Instead, Holden jibber jabs his weird baby language and they act like they’re having a ‘real’ conversation with him.
“Ticka ticka ticka blaabeblabababa”
“Is that so? What else?”
He eats it up. I think he’s at that age where he really wants to be an adult and do everything Mommy and Daddy do, and my friends give him exactly what he’s looking for.
On a good day, I think Holden might be able to convince my friends to at least keep an open mind about their futures containing children. On the bad days when we have company- I can totally picture them going out and buying chastity belts or even getting their shit stitched closed so there’s no chance of ever having a child outside of Immaculate Conception.
It would be an exaggeration if I said that before I got pregnant, I could drink a boatload of alcohol without puking my guts out- but I was definitely not a puss. I can remember having at least 4 drinks before getting to the ‘falling on my ass’ stage of drunken behavior.
No-brainer: as soon as I found out I was pregnant I quit drinking on the spot. Nine long months of no drinking wreaks havoc on your alcohol tolerance. I expected it, tolerance has to be built.. and no drinking means I had to go back to square one.
Now, I don’t drink all the time. Only on the weekends, and only after Holden is tucked into bed and fast asleep.
When Holden was about 5 days old, we all went out to eat and I had a very large margarita. In the past, it might not have even phased me, especially when my tummy is full of burrito and tortilla chips- but I was pretty tipsy. The good tipsy. I was in a fabulous mood and thought to myself ‘it can only go up from here!’
I would have been right if by ‘up’.. I was referring to puke coming up from my stomach.
Not every tipsy since then has been the good tipsy. If I even think about having more than two drinks I might as well consider my dinner null and void because I will be tasting it again later on the way out. Some nights are even less than that- I never know when a sip I take will be my last and i’m telling Thomas “drink this..because if I do i’ll hurl.”
I should probably consider it a good thing to be a cheap drunk. It doesn’t take as long to feel fuzzy, and I don’t have to choke down very many of Thomas’ concoctions that he calls mixed drinks. And these days, i’m not looking to get completely hosed- it’s definitely not as fun as it used to be. Especially when you know that you have to be able to drag your ass out of bed the next morning to take care of someone who can’t take care of themselves- that’s enough to stop you from drinking yourself into a coma.
That, and pooping all day the next day instead of throwing up like my stomach would rather me do… well, it doesn’t stop me from drinking- but it probably should. My poor butt!
I love how almost every one of my blogs gets ‘poop’ as a tag. That never gets old!
I remember when Holden was younger, reading posts made by other moms with babies the same age about their children constantly grabbing at their poopy diapers as soon as they came off.
Holden never did that, and I sort of giggled at the posts- and considered a bullet dodged.
Chalk it up to one more thing I was wrong about.
Holden apparently has jumped on the “I wanna play with my poo-filled diaper” late. About 8 months late.
He’s never really had an interest at all with his diapers.. Clean ones, sometimes- he likes to grab them and carry them around the house like they’re buried treasure, but when he’s on the changing table he’s more interested in yelling at me for cleaning his butt with a cold wipe than grabbing at the diaper i’ve just taken off of him.
This week is a totally different story. As soon as his (surprisingly bad smelling) poop diaper comes off- his hand goes directly to his diaper. I, of course, start freaking out because I don’t want him putting his hand in crap and then trying to eat it like a delicacy like he does with lint or old wrinkly peas that I miss during dinner cleanup- so he crinkles his face and then tries to touch his poo-covered butt. Not just once, but over and over.
It’s not a fun situation, i’m trying to clean him and get him to stop from covering himself in gag-inducing baby crap at the same time, and he’s getting mad because I won’t let him.
I started pondering why he’s just started doing this now as opposed to when he was under 6 months old like other babies- and I think it could be because his crap has changed consistencies from runny ‘baby poop’, to sticky gross corn kernel filled ‘toddler poop.’
I’m sure it can’t be comfortable to have a huge nug of nastiness stuck between your cheeks- but why try to touch it?? Just let mommy do the dirty work and dig it out of your crack- simple as that! Maybe I could just hand him a wipe and let him go to town- but I think the results would be horrifying at best.
Or, y’know.. He could poop in the potty when I sit him there during his regular poop time, and we could alleviate this problem altogether! Knowing Holden, he’d turn around, reach his hand into the potty and scoop the poop right out to play with. Ew.
It’s only what? 10:30 in the morning and today is shaping up to be the day from hell.
I just finished changing a diaper that would make the most seasoned mother gag. I don’t know what it was that he ate… wait.. yes I do. Beans and onions- never a good idea for a baby. I thought he got it out of his system last night after dinner when he crapped himself crazy, but no.. it was boiling up- just waiting to explode all night.
It didn’t help that Holden woke up before 7am this morning, and upon coming into bed with Thomas and I, sleep-kicked me for the next hour and a half. I have NEVER seen a child so restless. Rolling back and forth, kicking, swatting- never once did his eyes open.
And then breakfast- Guess who thought it would be fun to take the full bowl of oatmeal i’d just made and toss it onto my freshly cleaned carpet? You got it- Holden.
And my cereal was already made, so by the time I cleaned the oatmeal up, made a new bowl and got Holden into his highchair.. I was eating soggy disgustingness.
My tolerance is at an all time low right now. I really think I might snap if today were Thursday. As I type this.. Holden is charging up and down the hallway trying to eat dirty Qtips out of the trashcan- I guess that’s a sign that i’d better go.
Person on tv: Age is just a number! 10yo: Yeah, a number that pulls you closer to death.
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