We've been waiting impatiently for the 15 month language explosion to hit. Instead, it's just a bunch of ass and nose explosions, neither of which help me to understand exactly what my son is saying (except don't feed me all that yogurt and perhaps wash my hands a few more times).
I've become one of those moms who annoyingly states and repeats basic words to the point of the on-looker just wanting to say the word for the kid.
"BALL. It's a FUCKING BALL, lady. Now leave the poor baby alone."
It's not that he can't say anything. He consistently offers a resounding "MMMMMMMMMMMMMMM" anytime food is brought to the table. That's always nice for this domestic zero's ego. And he makes "kissing" noises when you ask him what a duck says because my husband taught him to do that to get them to come over to him. We've since added "bwhhhhhhhrrrrrrrrrrrrr" for a truck and heavy panting for a dog or hot or both.
And over the course of the last few weeks, he's said "mama," "ba" (ball), and "nana" (banana) with some intention. But then the lunar eclipse and the perfectly aligned stars pass over us and it is gone.
He's quite a talented "pointer n' grunter" so much so that we're bound to give him absolutely anything he wants off the kitchen table just to get him to stop. And he's taken to using a few ASL signs, with some fascinating interpretations -- my favorite being the hand to the mouth with loud sucking noise for drink.
Unfortunately, he's also decided to incorporate baby gangster language, like biting - or as he seems to be saying "Give me that toy, bitch," hitting - which is code for "Get the hell off my couch," and tossing things at people's heads (with uncanny aim); that's generally interpreted as "Don't mess with me with or I will cut you." (or as my daughter would tell you, "bruise my freaking forehead.")
So last night, during our nightly story hour, we were reading one of his favorite books*. And being the
obsessive good mom that I am, I was saying every single word that he was pointing to. Without thinking, he pointed to the mom's large pregnant breast and I said "Boob."
"Boob!" he said, in his cute baby voice.
Oh Jesus. Are you kidding me? You're going to say that?
"What's that," I asked him, hoping it was just a fluke.
Now if I had known he was going to add "boob" to his vocabulary, I would have called it "breast" - being that I'm all for using the "correct" terminology, but I figured best to pad the word count for the 18 month doctor visit.
And "boob" is just way easier to say. You know, other than "jugs."
*Like many books we (and you) probably own, it is not one of my favorite books. But there are lots of renderings of babies, and he loves it.