Mama B

You’ll remember the phase RR went through when she suddenly started calling D “MamaDee” and our subsequent shock and horror that someone would have told her to call us by different names.  By the way, thanks for sympathizing with us.  Your dismay more than echoed our own and, as usual, made us feel like we were less alone in this parenting gig.  Also, are you not friends with me on Facebook (assuming, of course, you are not overly concerned with the tyranny of The Man)?  Because I’ll totally be your friend and then you’ll get to be outraged at awesome stuff like the time RR’s teachers sent home a note saying that she “did the opposite of everything her teachers said and then laughed in their faces.”  Oh yeah, you missed that.

You’ll be happy to know that RR dropped Mamadee shortly after my post and has reverted to the much more tolerable combination of Mama (me) and Mama, Daddy and Mommy (D).  We go with the flow.  But then that solo letter came back.   When RR gets frustrated or is speaking quickly, she tacks B onto the ends of words.  As in, “No, Mama!  No socks B!”  and “ball and puzzle B and bunny.”  Sometimes she throws it between sentences, “No fank you mama B.  No shirt B.”  It usually shows up when she’s feeling particularly strong about something.  it’s almost as though it’s a word in the sentence.

Speaking of sentences, RR’s language has exploded in the past week.  Before, we were getting three or four word, simple sentences.  Now we are getting complex thoughts.  For example, “Mama you sit here and mama you sit there and I’ll get a book.”  Dude.  This morning I heard, “Mama, got my my socks now where are my shoes?”  And she certainly isn’t having trouble differentiating anymore, saying things like, “That’s mama’s, mama. I’ll give it to her.”  Are you serious right now?*

So we have a language flood and the occasional B showing up.  And now she says “uh”.  I think she uses it as “um” and it appears before an answer to a question.  Like: What color is your shirt?  Uh. Pink.  It’s not a drawn out uhhhh like you’d hear in a speech or if someone were pausing to think – though that’s what I think is happening.  It’s a short clipped sound – like B is.

As per usual, I’m flapping my worries around here and hanging them out to dry. Meanwhile, I catch myself thinking.  Is this Tourettes?  Is this the start of a stutter?  Have we somehow conveyed a perfection requirement and she’s stumbling to get answers right?  She’s okay, isn’t she?  And there you have it.  There’s not much to be done about it since she’s perfectly intelligible and clearly her language is developing so fast it’s tripping over itself.  I suppose we wait and see, right?  In the meantime, thanks for reading B.

*Furthermore, I don’t know what to do with a child who, after hearing the definition of the word tailgating, commenced associating every other word she knew with tail.  Tailgating, mama?  Ponytail.  Moses’ tail.  Taaaaaiiiilllll.

6 Responses

  1. When HT turned two, our pediatrician told us that this was the year that he’d startle, stumble, and stutter. He was right on all three. Suddenly, there were scary things everywhere, he tripped and fell more than he ever had before, and he developed a stutter – but at the END of words, not at the beginning. It’s like he had an echo, or couldn’t quite finish the sentence cleanly. “What a mess..ess..ess..ess!” Maybe that’s a variation on what you’re hearing with the “B” and “Um”? And all the root cause of all three issues was exactly what you said: things in that amazing little brain developing so quickly that he was – both literally and figuratively – tripping over himself. For me, it helped me to know that it was all normal, to be expected, not a sign of developmental problems, and that it would all pass. Sure enough, we’re now starting in on the same things with Eleanor (so far, we’ve got ‘startle’ down cold, are starting in on the ‘stumble,’ and haven’t re-introduced ourselves to the stutter. At least, not yet… et… et… et.).

    • I’m not sure what it says about me (though it says awesome things about you) that I’m always relieved when you chime in with parenting advice. I hope it’s a two-yr-old thing that we can say goodbye to along with throwing sand and running pell mell into danger. Of course, even if it is a stutter or verbal tic that we keep, we still think she’s awesome.

  2. No, I am not your facebook friend, but I LOVE the story of RR doing the exact opposite of what the teachers told her to do and then laughed. That’s excellent! Mine is at least slightly more polite about it saying “No thank you” to her preschool teacher in a similar situation. High five RR!

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