Mommy's Project 52:43 Speaking

If there is one thing that I can think of which I would change about myself, it's the sound of my voice.  Honestly, I can't stand to hear myself speak.  Do you like the sound of your own voice?  Ugh, it's one thing that drives me batty, and I don't know how others can stand to listen to me!

My daughter, Ethel, has always been quite verbal.  I remember being so excited when she started to babble, then make word sounds, then say words, then sentences, and the whole progression until she was full-out talking.  It wasn't long, though, before I was thinking, "If only there was a pause or mute feature on kids".  Seriously, once they start they just don't seem to stop.  Until you ask them, "Who dumped that plant in the living room?" or "Why did you throw your dirty diaper in the laundry basket?".  Suddenly, they seem to be silent and you can't get a sound out of them. 

If only they could be silent when you want them to be.

When my son, Fred, was little, everyone around us kept saying, "Oh, I bet you can't wait until he can talk!", to which I replied, "Oh, yes I can!".  Having been through that once we knew just what we were in for, and we knew we were in no real hurry to have two motor mouths barking at us all the time.  We were in no hurry, of course, but it was pretty clear early on that Fred wasn't following in his sister's foot steps when it came to meeting milestones.  Hm, perhaps we should be more anxious for him to start talking.  And crawling.  And walking.  Hm.

Fred had chronic, severe ear infections for a good bit of his first two years.  Finally, after consulting with an ENT, we decided it was time Fred got tubes.  In December, before his 2nd birthday (in March), we took Fred in for the outpatient procedure which would change his ever growing world and open up a whole new one for him.  It wasn't long after the new year began that he began to say words which we could understand, and I heard, "Mommy" clearly in his little voice and it brought tears to my eyes.

Still, if only they could be silent when you want them to be.

Now, our dinners are filled with conversations, anecdotes, new facts learned at school, and stories about who played with whom on the playground, and who had to take their nap next to the teacher.  Often, Hot Dad and I have to play ref and regulate who gets to talk and when because otherwise, Ethel and Fred are both yelling trying to get their story heard first. 

Still, the most beautiful sound is the sound of a child's voice when they say, "I love you, Mommy".
{As long as they say it quietly.}