Deconstructing Magnus’ Linguistic Genius Gibberish

 

Yes, he does talk now. Yay! And no, you will not comprehend 95% of his talk. But because I have (fine, most moms in general do) the uncanny ability  to understand Magnus’ mono-syllabic speech and body language, we can pretty much have decent conversations nowadays.

Oh wait, this is actually the first time i am writing about Magnus in this blog. Ladies, meet Magnus Galen James S. Quizon, my second born son. He is 17 months old today.

And to celebrate this milestone, I am “showing off” his ever expanding vocabulary (aka his baby blabber interpreted any way i like it):

1.  “Mama” – There’s no mistaking the meaning of this, he says this when he needs the most important person in his life
2. “Memem” – Milk from Mama, of course, the 2^nd most important thing in his life and probably the only reason why he wants me around all the time
3. “Uya” – He is calling Kuya Qube. Nothing beats his look of pure love and delight when he calls Kuya. This is usually followed by a smack on Kuya Qube’s cheek.

Now, here is when it goes a little tricky.

1.  “Ba” – This is probably the most versatile word in the English language. It’s usage depends on what he is currently doing and where he is ATM. Some possible meanings could be:
   • Baba – When we are upstairs and he wants to go down. Easy. Could also mean from downstairs when he wants to go up. Beats me, don’t look to me for any rational explanation.
   • Banana – No, not the fruit. He means the yellow minions from “Despicable Me”
   • Bath – When he is all soiled and sweaty and wants to freshen up, which is about every time he sees or passes by the bathroom.
   • Spongebob – Maybe he confuses him for the minions?
   • Bad – Whenever he accidentally bumps his head on the wall or the floor, his way of reprimanding the object he bumped into – “Ba!”
   • Ball or Book – Depends on whether he wants to read or to play, and on what object is pointing to.
   • Bye – When Mama is around and he wants everyone else to leave him alone, he will most definitely wave you away and shut the door on your face
   • Bye – This is the straightforward “ba” when he wants to go out of the house to go down the playground
2. “Pa” – This is how he calls his dad, of course. Though most of the time, I fear that he actually meant the “iPad.” In other words, it’s iPad > Papa. Bad parenting, i know, but sorry, not sorry.
3. “Teee” – could mean the following:
   • Ate – Admittedly Magnus’ and my lifesaver. Oh, what would i do without my “Ates”?
   • Water – Next to milk, this is his favorite beverage. Supercold please.
   • Dirty – He says “Teee” when picking up leftover food from the floor, then eventually eats it, which automatically makes me scream – “Eeeeek, Magnus, yuck yuck spit it out!” only to be met with a smug smile
   • Teeth – No fancy explanation about this, he just calls it as it is.
4. “Eee” – He says this a lot these days. And I would literally jump with glee whenever he does want to “Eee”.  Though we still have to work on making him have a regular meal time schedule. Yup, “eee” means “eat.”
5. “Cluck, cluck” – This is the sound that he makes when he is calling the dogs. This is quite embarrassing, but he learned this long before all other words in this list. Yes, even before “Mama.”

According to Parents.com,  most kids this age are able to speak 10-15 words. Counting the words associated with different meanings – we are getting there, Magnus. Good job, anak!

Questions?

“Mama, I have a question.”

Although I was taken aback by this “a little too adult” approach by my two-year old, I pretended not to notice and said: “Ok, what’s your question?”

Qube: “Train!”
Me: “Uh, what’s the question?”
Qube: “Train!”
Me: “But that is not a question. When you say you have a question, it means you have to ask me something.”
Qube : (A little impatient by now) “Train, Mama. Si Pete!”

Of course, he was asking FOR something, I understood that pretty well. However, when he came to me with the “I have a question” statement, my immediate response was to try to elevate our level of conversation from the baby talk I am used to, to a conversation with an equal, and it includes expecting him to properly deliver a question.

Having had lots of practice arguing with the husband*, it occurs very rarely for me not to know what to say in a particular situation, and that day was one of those moments – I did not know how to explain to a two-year old the difference between a question and a statement.

These were the possible explanations running through my mind that day:

• A question is when you to pretend to give your parents the option to grant or not to grant your request:

Example: “Can I buy a train?”

This approach gives your parents the feeling of having power over you. And when you start feeding their ego, it would be easier to convince them to give in.

• A statement is when you cut all the crap and just say that you want something and expect that it will  be handed over to you.

Example: “I want a train!”

A big NO. You don’t want to appear arrogant and spoiled. Remember the first rule, parents like to believe that because they are your parents, they should be the ones laying out the rules. And if you think you are the only arrogant member of the family, think again.

And my dear Qube, “train” is a noun. Or the “object” of your desire. For it to become a sentence, you must supplement a subject and a verb to your object (train). It has exceptions though, but you are too young to learn those.

Okay, I held off telling him these. But really, should I already start reviewing sentence types and structures? Or more than that, should I begin to worry about my thought process and the possibility that Qube just may have taken after me?

On a more serious note, should I be concerned about the way I talk to him? Am I beginning to burden him with expectations way way beyond his age?

Well, in defense though, I don’t expect him to be able to write his full name at his age. That is just too much. However, I do expect that he knows his alphabet and numbers even when he is very sleepy or upon waking up. I expect that he knows how to read Qube whenever and wherever he sees it. Or type his iPad’s passcode because it’s just logical that he knows its passcode given that he doesn’t even let me borrow it.
I don’t expect him to be a good dancer. In fact, I don’t want him to. But he should be able to carry a tune.Sayang naman pagiging bokalista ng tatay nya. Ahem. Okay, maybe this is too much, given I still seriously doubt the authenticity of his dad’s claim.

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Here’s one truth though, I need toddler parenting classes. Seriously.

The Chuggtastic effort to bring home Koko

I should have known that he was devising his grand scheme the moment he asked for breakfast and did not like any of the options presented to him.

“Mama, there’s no food here!”

By “no food here,” he means he did not like the egg, longanisa, and shanghai rolls offered to him.

Cookies?
No.
Sky Flakes?
No.
Milk?
He began crying and declared that he was hungry and wanted to eat.

In other words, he wanted to eat out.

No problem.

We went to Chow King and  I was told that my Congee order was not available. Great. Now I have to convince Qube to try to eat something else. Eventually, he agreed to Macaroni soup in Jollibee. I know. I have written in another blog post that I do not tolerate feeding children with fast food junk. Shame on the condescending other me. It is indeed much easier to write rules than implement them, especially with a hungry toddler.

While I was helping him eat his soup, he said: “Where’s my toy?”

“We came here to get breakfast, not to play. Go ahead and finish your food so we can go home already.” He did finish his food and did not bring up his “toy” question again.

I saw a man selling balloons outside and I immediately spotted Mickey Mouse. I told Qube that I will buy him one later because he was behaved and he did not have a hard time finishing his food. So on our way out, I led him to the direction of the balloons. He resisted. He said: “No balloons, Mama. I don’t want balloons.”

I was mighty proud and was even smiling to myself as I thought: “Wow, show me another toddler who refuses to buy a toy!”

So when he asked me “Mama, can we ride a taxi going home?” , it was an easy yes for me. Which must be my biggest mistake that day because, thirty minutes later, I found myself in Rustan’s Makati, paying for another Chuggington train. And beside me? A very happy toddler in sando and pambahay shorts.

Breaking in the new train.

Koko saying hi to the other Chuggers

How did this happen?

We boarded the taxi and I told the driver the direction going home. Then Qube said: “Akala ko we will buy a toy?”

No, we will not.
Akala ko we will buy a toy.
No, we will not.
Akala ko we will buy a toy.
No, we will not.
Let’s buy a toy, Mama.
No.

That’s Qube when he wants something so badly. He would keep on insisting and repeating himself until I give in. This time though, I did not yield. I won. We got off the cab.

And. Here. Come. His. Tears.

And with his tears went my resolve. Two minutes later, we were again inside the same taxi. I could not even look at the driver as he said: “O, pinagbigyan mo rin!”

As if forgetting the drama that just happened, Qube said: “Mama, pwede si Koko? I already told Papa I want to buy Koko.” I don’t know when that conversation with Papa was or if he really did tell his dad about his plan to buy a new train. Then it dawned on me that my toddler had been playing me all along.

To make matters worse, his train was not available in Rockwell. And that was how we found ourselves in Makati.

Did I already say that we were both fresh out of bed and looked exactly fresh out of bed when we went out to get breakfast?

Palusot.

I was watching Qube play with his trains a short distance from where I was having breakfast. He was again removing everything he sees on the couch. Whenever he wants to play, he does not want any obstruction blocking the path of his trains. This time, he was busy removing pillows and putting them on the floor.

Seeing that I was intently looking at him, he turned towards me and asked: “Mama, is that a giant electric fan?”

I thought for a moment and surmised that, well, he was saying that in reference to his size. I innocently replied: “Yes baby, that is a very big electric fan.”

With that, he smiled and said: “I know Mama. Look, na-blow kang electric fan ang pillows to the floor.”

Here comes my moral dilemma. Applaud the effort and get him off the hook? Or tell him that no, that is not the truth?

I did not see this as one of the things I should worry about a thousand days ago.