The language of parenthood

By Christine

It is no secret that a parent's choice of language changes when a baby enters the house. Softer tones and fewer curse words cross our lips as we navigate early parenthood. We are mindful of what we say when our baby turns toddler/mirror of ourselves. We watch as they delve into mannerisms so close to our own that we wonder what else they have learned when we weren't looking. It would be neat to record our pre-kid voices and our post-kid ones. We might sound more hoarse now from admonishing, guiding, warning, and, yes, threatening our offspring into adulthood.

When my daughter was two, she had several words for thank you. "Ta ta," was the every day, thanks-for-changing-my-diaper-for-the-umpteenth-time-Mom version. Then she'd use "dat-dow" when she furtively got what she thought she might not: such as "Dat-dow"-for-the-ice-cream-before-dinner-Dad.

There are days when my husband still uses "Ta ta," although he mixes up the meaning and employs it when he's gotten away with murder. "Ta-ta"-for-letting-me-go-out-without-cleaning-up-the-mess-the-kids-and-I-left-behind-Sweetheart. Or better: "Ta-ta"-for-buying-my-mother-yet-another-birthday-gift-cuz-I-might-have-forgotten-Darling.

Having kids has not only affected how we speak, but also what we say. The guinea pigs we recently got are not called cavies, which is their correct name. They are now called "The Squeakies" because of their benevolent chirping at mealtime. My children have long been called :The Thnobbits" for their Hobbit-like approach to living –- barefoot and low to the ground and preferably in a cave (of blankets and dining room chairs). I've been called 'Mama' for eons, of course, but my all-time favorite nickname stems from my son's gentle ribbing.

"Watch out, you Pampers!" he squealed at me last weekend as he raced his 5-year-old self down the drive in rollerblades. I watched him whirl around the corner and keep going.

"Did he just call me a diaper brand?" I looked quizzically at my husband. He nodded.

"Ta ta, Thnobbit!" I called back, grinning as he skid to a halt and glared at me. He coughed for effect.

"My name is Jackson," he chided through his protective glove.

"Well," I replied, hand on hip, "I am not a disposable nappy!"

Conversations such as these are what make parenthood great. Semantically, they make no sense at all. But to us, they mean the world.

Christine is an American author and freelance writer living near Munich, Germany, with her husband and two children (Jackson, 4 and Sophia, 6).

Comments

[Robin P]

This reminds me of what happened this morning. I don't usually work on Mondays but I'm trying to pick up some extra days so I was about to leave the house and Lillianna was eating breakfast.

As I walked towards her to say goodbye,I said,"I just want to say how much I love you and how much I'm going to miss you."

I wrapped my hands around her bowl of cocoa krispies and said to the cereal,"I'll really miss you today. I love you more than anything in the world." then I pretended like I had just noticed Lillianna and that I had made a mistake so I said,"Ooops!" and I said the whole thing again but to her not the cereal.

She thought that was very funny and we both laughed.
Being a mom is funny,isn't it?

[Jenn]

That is so true, and so funny. We all have our little words and phrases for each other. My hubby calls our bug "boddler" because she's inbetween a baby and a toddler. too cute!