Teaching our kids to talk...

We got an email from one of our nieces this morning... she was letting everyone know that yesterday was her 30th birthday and that their new baby is now 6 weeks old. They just can't wait until she (the baby) starts talking... Though I don't know this niece very well and have only met her once, I just had to respond. You can read below the letter I wrote back to her...

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Okay, whoa, wait a minute.... If I may interject here.... I used to think that, too. (Can't wait until the kids can talk.)

I remember all the time spent trying to teach them how to talk and react, etc... Then, it all happens at once. K, our oldest, who is 7 going on 17, is usually quite
good. She speaks eloquently and many people forget that they are talking to a child
because she sounds so grown up... could be that we spent so much time and effort trying to teach her how to talk, could be that she's the oldest and automatically assumes that she's the boss. Not real sure...

Then there's B... She will be 6 in May and when you ruffle her feathers, she gets like her Daddy. The hackles raise, her voice gets commanding, and heaven-forbid you actually try to reason with her (read: shut her up before she's done!). But at other times, she's the most lovable verbally and physically.

Let us not forget that there is one more: S. Yes, we thought it would be great
to teach him how to talk so that he would be as smart as his sisters and they would all just get along so well all the time.... Somehow God thought it would be funny to make us wait on that dream. Oh, don't get me wrong... he's very smart. Just in a quiet, sneaky way. He didn't really start talking a whole lot until about a year ago or so.... apparently he has been listening and learning, though. And one of my proudest moments of his accomplishments came this past Saturday as the kids and I were at the beautician. The girls and I needed haircuts badly. Well, S in all his 4 yr. old wisdom decided to talk the gal's ears off as she worked on B's hair. And it was cute at first; he told her that he, too, needed a haircut because he was starting to look like a puppy dog. She said that she could trim up his hair, too, if he wanted.

Then, the truth comes out - "Sometimes I toot. I like to toot on B."

I proceeded to ask him (as my hands are shielding my eyes while I look at the floor) "Who did you learn that from?"

He answers, "B told me. She likes to toot on me too!"

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, and I burp in her face!"

Then he continues his conversation with anyone who is willing to listen. I was so proud (not!). All I could think was, "Why did we spend so much time teaching him how to talk? He apparently has learned much of it on his own.
Now we have to teach him how to hush once in a while!"