Jamieson’s talking up a storm lately. His vocabulary is probably well over 200 words by now (we’ve stopped counting), and he’s saying things like airplane, helicopter, lemur, brown, black, pink, shark, pants, please, walk, toy, play, fourteen, nineteen, paint, rock, battery. He is coming out with a lot of these words without us prompting “can you say…?”. Like today we were coming down the stairs with one of his bath toys to give to Doc to replace the batteries, and he looked up at me and said “New… battery!” He mangled the pronunciation of “battery” a little bit, of course, but I knew exactly what he was saying.
Overall his pronunciation is improving drastically, too.
He is also using sentences of up to five words. We taught him to say “I want” when he wants something, rather than just saying “Meeee! meee! meee!” over and over while pointing to something, or saying the name of the object over and over again. This morning at breakfast, with oatmeal on his hand and face, he busted out with “I want wipe, Mommy, please.”
One of the most amazing things I have ever experienced is that kid’s smile when he knows he’s said a new word or sentence correctly. “Smile” isn’t even an adequate word for it — it’s like a 500-watt bulb comes on and lights up his face. It’s the most joyous expression of pure happiness and self-pride I have ever seen. After the brilliant 500-watt “new battery” smile from this evening, I made a promise to myself that I would never, ever, EVER do anything to crush that feeling in him.
I’ve been reading “Parenting with Love and Logic” by Foster Cline and Jim Fay. I only get a page or two at a time because I’m reading it at the table while feeding Jamie his breakfast and dinner. So far I am in agreement with a lot of the principles they are teaching, but my gut also tells me that some of the reactions and techniques they espouse are just too vindictive. One of their big tenets is saving “consequences” for later. Like, ok, you can disobey me/make a poor choice now, and I’m not going to punish you, but tomorrow when you ask me to take you to school/your friend’s house/your soccer game, I’m going to be just too busy. It really seems vindictive to me, but maybe it’s just that because I have a 2 year old and these techniques are not appropriate yet. The consequences for his actions need to be immediate at this point or he’s not going to understand what’s going on.
Parenting is teaching me that I have to go with my gut every time — it’s leading me in the right direction. Heck, if we hadn’t gone with our guts and fired our idiot pediatrician when Jamieson was 5 months old, we might have never found out that he had food allergies.