Wednesday, January 20, 2016

Look Who's Talking Now

Bubbles for everyone!
Tiny has a 30% speech delay, so he has a language that is pretty much all his own - we affectionately refer to it as Hamlish. It's a mixture of English, Toddlerese, grunting, gesturing, and repeating syllables. It also often contains a word or two that is a place-holder for what he really means, e.g. down means both up and down. His brain has trouble juggling some opposites, it seems; this isn't unusual for TSC kids, so it's something we've got a therapist for and are working on.

On top of it, Squeaky is only 16mos younger than Tiny, so my Irish twins also speak some amount of cryptophasia at home (also know as "twin speak"). As Squeaky becomes progressively verbal, he's catching up to Tiny's point of delay, making them even more similar to actual twins.

This morning, I was mixing both boys medicinal cocktails (Tiny's seizure meds into milk with ovaltine, and Squeaky's bronchitis antibiotic into a chocolate-vanilla pediasure mixture) in sippy cups, when I heard this exchange:

Tiny: EHYEE. No no, no dana dana danana, no no. (Squeaky, no touching! Danger!)
Squeaky: <incoherent yelling> (Don't tell me what to do!)
Tiny: Mamama no no no danana Ehyee no no DOWN EHYEE DOWN. (Mom said no, Squeaky! Put it down!)

(Now, keep in mind I can't actually SEE through the wall between us, but I can tell they're arguing over either the wall charger wire or the tv cord.)

Squeaky: WANNAWANNAWANNA Waaaaaah! *crash* (But I want to! *gets pushed over by Tiny*)

At this point I intervene, brush Squeaky off and repeat what Tiny was telling him, "No no, we don't touch cords, Squeaky. Danger!"

Tiny puts his hands on his hoops and nods smugly, agreeing, "Danana! NO NO EHYEE. Up! No up no <incoherent garble, grunting and pointing>."

Squeaky frowns at him and gets to his feet, going chest to chest with his big bro ... Which is kind of funny, because it's something like watching a squirrel belly up to a penguin. Squeaky tips his chin up and explodes with a giant burp, followed by a VERY pointed garble that I can only translate into something along the possible lines of, "Don't be a jerk - you're not the boss of me!" And then he turns and stomps off.

Tiny looks contrite a moment, then runs over to give me a big hug like I'm still your favorite, right, Mama?

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