I always hesitate to talk about the talking around here because no matter what, someone always compares their kid to my kid and ridiculousness ensues. But, Mila is cracking me up with her latest word choices, so y'all with littles DON'T COMPARE MY KID TO YOUR KID, MMKAY? Seriously. Don't do it. She's a talker, there's no doubt, but it means nothing. Some kids talk sooner, some talk later, at the end of the day, they all tell their parents to screw off eventually. How they get there is irrelevant.
Got It? Good.
So, Mila is full of disappointment when it comes to cute toddlerisms. It blows. As a general rule, if she says something incorrectly, all it takes is for someone else to say it correctly and she fixes it. I got years of "lellow" out of Alexis while I got ten minutes of it with Mila. She has also already fixed "spaghetti," "gymnastics," and a whole host of other words that I loved for a millisecond.
WHATEVER, CHILD. You just go on with your proper enunciation and stuff.
Mila may be a master of mastering enunciation, but I still have odd grammar stuff to bring me joy. Like, "We."
"We" is not a word in Mila's vocabulary. I'm not sure why, but she gets all of the other similar words. "I" and "she" and "he" and "they" and all of them. "We," though. "We" doesn't exist. Thus, Mila says things like "Where am I going?" when we get in the car.
She also says, "What am I doing?" when she wants to know what we are doing. And even though I run the risk of accidentally teaching her the correct words, I enjoy every second of that "What am I doing?"
"What are you doing?" is often my reply. Or, I sometimes tell her what she's doing. "You're sitting in your car seat." "You're breathing." "You're being funny." I have a million responses, none of which are what she's looking for.
"No, what am I doing?"
I usually mess with her for several minutes. Because I'm a jerk. But yesterday when I was playing the part of the household jerk, Miss Mila decided to call me out for it.
"What am I doing?" she asked.
"You're asking questions," I replied.
"That's not nice to make fun. You should go to time out RIGHT NOW," she replied as she grabbed my hand and led me to the time out corner.
I served a two minute time out. It was worth every second, too.
