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Tuesday, September 14, 2010

He saved it for the perfect moment!

It's extremely hard having two children and not comparing them.  Belle was our first, and I was the overly nervous Mommy.  I took note of all of her milestones.  The thing is, she hit all of them way before schedule.  She was a complete chatterbox rambling on and on by the time she hit two.  I don't mean she'd put a word or two together. You could have a full on conversation with her as if she were an adult.  They say that women speak 20,000 words a day to men's 7,000.  Belle hits her 20,000 by lunch.  The girl can talk.  (Wonder where she gets that from?)

"BLAH,BLAH,BLAH,BLAH,BLAH!"
















Then came Bubb.  He's a complete 180 from how Belle was.  As a baby he was Mr. Chill.  Nothing fazed him.  He was the.perfect.baby.  If I could have a guarantee that all future babies would be exactly like him, I'd want 10 more.  My girly bits may beg to differ, and my ovaries and uterus are currently screaming, "woman, are you insane?!?!" and putting up "out of business" signs at the simple possibility of this.  Relax girls, I merely mean if you could order a baby, he'd be the kind you'd want to order. Expect to be in retirement the remainder of my days.  Unless of course I change my mind, in which case, you best hop to and produce another beautiful, healthy, perfect little burrito. Back to my point, he was cake as a baby.  As easy as he was, he was also, how did his doctor so kindly put it?  Oh yeah, lazy.  Whereas Belle was high strung and determined to conquer the world, Elias was calm, cool, and content just chillaxin'.

*Crickets*

















Being the worry wart that I can be, I took him to his doctor numerous times.  Each time she evaluated him, then looked at me and said, "STOP COMPARING! Belle was VERY ADVANCED with milestones.  He's perfectly fine!  He's PERFECT!" She informed me that the second child usually speaks a lot later than the first.  The reason being?  The first one gets the second one whatever they need.  They have no motive to talk.  Add to that, that boys develop later.  Top it off that he has a sister that NEVER.SHUTS.UP.  How can I expect him to get a word in?  She told me to relax, he'll talk when he decides he's good and ready.  So I'd pack him up, and go home feeling reassured.  Until of course I'd run into a friend or two who's kids were little chatterboxes at his age and then I'd start to worry and back to the doc's we'd go.  Repeat this a few times.

He's been talking more and more lately, but usually it's just putting two or three words together. And sometimes it is pronounced a little funny and needs translation! I'm excellent at speaking Bubbinese! Tonight the following occurred:

I was in Elias' room sitting in the glider with both kids on my lap as we do every night.  We were rocking and singing their bedtime song.  In the middle of the song, Miss Isabelle decides to be ornery and starts kicking a box that's in reach.  "Belle, stop it please." Continue to sing.  Continue to kick.  "Belle, stop." Continue to sing.  Continue to kick.  "Belle, don't do that." Continue, continue, continue!  All of a sudden Elias reaches over, puts both hands on Belle's face (one on each cheek) and says as clear as can be, "DON'T DO THAT BELLE!  STOP IT!" 

Say WHAAAAAAAAAT???!?!?!?!  Belle's and my jaw dropped!  Not only did he speak, but he had the correct context, correct pronunciation, correct let-me-put-your-little-butt-on-blast-sissy tone!  There may or may not have been a neck roll and a finger snap at the end of his tirade. I guess he was just saving up his words for the perfect moment!  'Nuff said baby!  Mommy is beyond tickled! You are perfect and I will worry no more!  I wish I would have gotten it on video.  Priceless.  Completely priceless!

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