I keep thinking of the above Hemingway quote in relation to Joe talking. Joe was 35 months old yesterday (i.e. he’ll be 3 in a month) and he’s talking. Harry didn’t really start talking until he was 3 and even then he would pattern speech but without words (if you’re interested – or bored – you can watch a video of him doing it here).
So when Joe started saying words – real words! – it freaked me and David out a bit. I compared it to hearing a cat speak, it was so unexpected. And then he started putting words together and we were even more impressed.
For a couple of months now, I’ve been saying to David, “He’s saying sentences! It’s really cool!” and then, in the last couple of weeks, I realised that he’s not just saying words, sentences, whatever, he’s, you know, talking.
And I love it so much. I love the way he pronounces words. I love the way he forms sentences. It’s just so incredibly cute. One of his current favourites is, whenever he hears music, “Yet’s dance, Mama!” I could probably quite happily tweet everything that comes out of Joe’s mouth because the novelty just isn’t wearing off. Every night when we put him in bed, he says, “Down’tairs, Mama! Jus’ ten minute!” and it makes me laugh. Every single time. (Partly because he tries to show me ‘ten minutes’ with his hands…)
The other morning he said, “Argh! Mon’ter!” I wasn’t sure at first what a ‘monter’ was, but then I realised: Monster. And then Joe said, “F’ighten Joe wit!” and I had to pin him down and squeeze him for cuteness.