Sunday, 19 April 2009

Sacha Said So

Sacha is a bonafide chatterbox.  I don't know if it was the speech therapy or his finally being ready to talk, but the kid does not shut up from dawn until dusk.  Sometimes, Tony and I just stare at each other, gaping mouthed, amazed that he can speak so much without sparing even a second to take a breath.

Sometimes this is a good thing: he tells himself stories, clasping his hands together on his lap and staring off into the distance saying "Once upon time, ay-cay-no (volcano) EXPLODE EVERYWHERE!"  Before he sleeps, he now says his prayers by himself (a mixture of two prayers that we have been saying since he was 8 months old): "Faddah, Son, Ho-wee Spiit Amen.  Sun shines, I in bed, rest sweepy head. Keep me safe frew night, I wake morning wight, Amen.  Faddah, Son, Ho-wee Spiit Amen!"

He has also decided that his name is no longer Sacha, but rather Chicken Little. In fact, if you address him as Sacha, he will either ignore you or spurt while shaking his head: "Mine name Sacha ANYMORE!  Mine name Chicken Little!

There are the WHY questions, which I often cannot answer to his full satisfaction: Why Maddahs have boobs?  Why Kees cry?  Why mine name Sacha?  Why Daddy go work?  Why we need money?  Why rain outside?  Why peepee come out mine penis?  Why Kees good baby?  Why Daddy good daddy?  Why Daddy name Tony?  Why Maman name Sarah?  Why need say prayers? Why Auntie Teewah go way?  Why me like bacon?

I often think that I am shortchanging his little curious mind when I cut the crap and give him a quick, boring answer "Because bacon is yummy.  Because Grandma liked the name Tony."  I have so much to do, and the questions are so non-stop that I cannot wrap my head around creating a reasonable teacher-like answer to satisfy him.  Or, for that matter, spend enough time with him doing all the 2-year-old things he wants to do, since I have another son on the verge of walking and demanding a lot of my time using my fingers as a balance apparatus while Sacha plays play-doh by himself or pours himself some "coffee" (juice) and goes to "work" (his bedroom) to "help people." There's only so much I can do for two kids at the same time.  And I feel guilty that I cannot do more. Or that I lack the energy to do it.

Then last night, before bed, Sacha leaned in and told Tony: Maman is good mudder.

I guess I need not worry anymore.  Sacha said so.


  1. Hiya!
    Just spotted your post through the tag surfer but then realised your on Mr Geeks blogroll too....
    My 3 year old had speech therapy and its amazing how quickly they come on and the stuff they pick up isnt it? Its also lovely when at your most drained switched off from the chatter, desparate for bedtime moment they give you a big compliment like that to cheer you up!Im off to have a nosy round the rest of the blog now!

  2. Ahh, so cute. Little boy love for his mom. For those never ending whys....I usually give a really long complicated answer (using lots of big words) and that usually stops the cycle of whys.

  3. That is so adorable!

    My mother in law says that same thing about my bro-in-law. They worried about him when he was little because he would never talk, and now you can't pay the guy to shut up!

  4. Sacha is right - you're an awesome mother. You have so much patience with your boys. I'm so glad you're the mother of my grandsons.

  5. GG agrees with Bonnie wholeheartedly!!

  6. Ha ha ha ha, and you thought your kid had issues with talking... ;) My son has learned to tell stories too! When we ask him where Grandma lives he says "in a volcano, KaBoom!" So freakin' hilarious!
    At least he hasn't figured out the concept of "why" yet...

  7. so this will be me in a few months hey with 2 kids under 2...yikes, I'm tired thinking about it. But Sacha's observation must make it all worthwhile, that's so sweet :)


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