If the United Nations needs another translator, I'm available. Although I'm not sure they really care to hear from the toddlers of the world.
Now that both of my children are babbling and chatting my ear off, we've learned to communicate rather easily. It's not until someone else joins the conversation do I get those "What did she just say?" looks. For me, it's easy!
Of course she just said "I want your water," how did you miss hearing that? Ok, maybe to you it sounded like "Ga waaa da waaaaaaaaaaawaaaaawaaaaa," but it was clear to me.
And the 3-year-old? Well you can usually make out just about everything he says, except when he's in a hurry. Or, you know, making up his own words. Or playing the endless rhyming game. The one where he really wants cheese, but will instead ask for schmeeze. Pimming is swimming. Bed is fled. Shoes are, you guessed it, poohs.
I am immune to these language and linguistic quirks. After all, these are the two people with whom I converse most of the day. We talk naturally, back and forth, back and forth, of ba-bas (babies) and rikes (bikes). And occasionally I will let a toddler word creep into my adult conversations. So what if I have to go potty? I'd like to hear of one mother out there who hasn't used that term accidentally while dining with friends.
I assume that as my children grow, their toddlerese will turn into tween and teenese. Then I can pepper my conversations with "dude" and "whatever." And some day, long from now, we may all speak in complete sentences. But until then, I will continue to serve as translator extraordinaire.
Erin Kotecki Vest lives in Southern California and is a writer and stay-at-home Mom of Jackson, three, and Hala, one. She spent nearly a decade as a news reporter and anchor in Orlando and Los Angeles.