“Hey Mama! Hey Mama! Know what’s funny? What if you had feet on your head?” Marquez collapses into giggles at his hilarious idea. “Hey Mama! Hey Mama! What if your nose was on your foot?” More hysterics. I laugh, too, but really, this is the millionth mutation he’s thought of in the last twenty minutes and the humor is beginning to elude me.
Moments later, he changes course. “Hey Mama! Hey Mama! Guess what? When I grow up I wanna be a motorcycle racer!” He proceeds to contemplate all, and I mean all, the things he could be when he grows up. Half an hour later, I am simply nodding my head as he rattles on about his career goals and I feel a little sleepy.
I remember seeing pink t-shirts made for girls that read: “I’m talking and I can’t shut up!” I was appalled that parents would mock their own child by purchasing one. Now I think that they should have made those shirts for little boys, too.
Marquez started chatting about two months ago, and aside from when he’s sleeping (and even then, he sometimes chatters away,) he has not stopped. I always want to validate his ideas, be delighted by his imagination, and share his enthusiasm as he explores his world through language. However, there is a limit to how much interest I can feign in the twelfth idea for a robotic upgrade to a space suit that can battle the Decepticons.
Plus, there is another child in the house who wants to practice language as well – Lucero. The poor little dear tries to get a word in edgewise, and he only has about forty of them, but he is barreled out of the way by Marquez wondering aloud whether “football guys hug their Moms ‘cuz they’re so sad they lost the game.”
Like the other ways that Marquez is learning to take turns, I have to help him put on the brakes and let his brother tell me something. “Lucero, your turn. Tell me about your lion.” Lucero holds the wooden lion up proudly and says “It say RAAARGH!!” “Yes,” I agree, and then Marquez tells me that football guys eat a lot so they can be really big to smash the other football guys. And football guys don’t take naps, ever. And guess what? Decepticons can play football in space.
Marquez is okay with taking “talking-turns” with his brother, as long as Alex and I don’t try to talk to each other. That’s where he draws the line. When Alex gets home from work, since I kinda like the guy, I want to talk to him. But Marquez’s interjections increase in volume and frequency whenever I say “Honey, how was your day?” I’ve tried to involve Marquez in the discussion, but it turns out that to a four year old, a professors’ day is dead boring compared to imagining football – playing Decepticons with feet on their heads. And he’s right.
Nina Shyne Alviar lives in Missoula with her husband, Alex, and her two boys, Marquez and Lucero. She shares land and chickens with her neighbors on the Westside. Nina is a nanny, postpartum doula, lactation counselor and was once a preschool teacher who went on maternity leave and never came back. She runs for sanity, and can be seen in one of those sporty hats huffing around town. Oh, and she likes to write once in a while, you know, when she has the time.
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Loved this post- especially your presence in the present. Thank you Nina:)
Great stuff, very much that we added the write-up Mamalode | A Resource for Missoula Moms keep it up