Freddy Finklestein.

Kiddle recently realized that his fingers get all wrinkly when he's been in the bath a long time ... or sucking on his fingers while on the computer.

"Look, Mommy," he said one day with concern. "Look at my fingers."
"It's ok, sweetie. They're just wrinkled because you had them in your mouth. They'll be ok again after they dry out."

He tried rubbing them on his pants a bit, but eventually gave up and moved on. Until the next afternoon when, once again, he had taken over my computer. A while later he dashed into the living room to find me:

"Mommy, Mommy! Look! I have FINKLES!"

Blue and yellow make green.

Wow. I just had what seemed like an actual conversation with Kiddle.

On the way home from preschool I asked him what he'd like for lunch ... and, for the first time ever, he actually answered.

"Banana!"
"Oh, really? A banana? What else would you like? Some cottage cheese?"
"BLUE cottage cheese."
"That's a shocker. So, blue cottage cheese and a banana it is."
"No, Mommy. Blue cottage cheese and YELLOW banana."
"Well, excuse me. You are correct."

It's the little things.

A tiny bit of progress today in the language department for Kiddle today. The last couple of weeks I've been working with him on how he makes requests. As in, instead of just saying "cookie," say "can I have a cookie?" This is our usual conversation:

"Cookie?"
"How do you ask for things, Kiddle? Can I have ...?"
"Haf"
"Can I have ..."
"Haf"
"Can I have ..."
"Haf"
"Ok, let's try it this way ... can?"
"Can. I. Haf. De. Cookie?"
"Yes! Yes, you can. Very good, Kiddle."

Annoying, isn't it? So I was very pleased tonight when he came up to me and said, "More milk?" Of course I replied, "How do you ask for things?" And he said ... wait for it ... "Can. I. Haf. De. Milk?" WITHOUT ANY PROMPTING. Woo hoo!

***

I guess I'm finally realizing how completely unnatural language and speech progression is for him. Don't get me wrong, I'm well aware how far behind he is — more than a year. And he's simply not going to just catch on to this talking thing. He's definitely made progress, but it's been excruciatingly slow. His receptive language is fine. He might be a bit delayed there, but for the most part he seems to understand everything you say. It's just hard to tell the difference right now between not understanding and a toddler's penchant for ignoring you.

His expressive language, on the other hand, is a disaster. At first we thought it was mostly an articulation issue, but, six months into speech therapy, it's obvious that it goes beyond that. Although, in my mind, it's still a bit of a chicken-egg conundrum. Does he express himself with very simple word combos because that's all he can do or because that's the only way anyone understands him? Hmmm. Who knows?

He's definitely using more sentences and phrases, but this exercise of trying to get him to say "can I have ..." has been enlightening. He still can't say it as a smooth phrase; it's always chopped up into separate words. It's so hard to see him struggling with this, but also thrilling when he accomplishes something so tiny as using the phrase without a direct prompt. It's crazy that he's just turned three and has the language skills of a not-yet-two-year-old.

The day he says "can I have more milk" without any coaching? I'll fall off my chair, I swear.

Two-Year-Olds Are Bizarre

Kiddle was asleep in the bed with me a few mornings ago. He started rustling around, waking up for the day, and suddenly said, full voice, "One, two, three, four, five, six, AAA, BEE, CEE, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, YYY, ZEEEEE!" Well, good morning to you too, little one. (And I won't even try to phonetically type his number pronunciation. Let's just say you can tell he's counting.)

***

He hasn't been a great eater for the last year, and has recently added the quirk of not wanting you to eat his food, even if he's absolutely not going to eat it.

Me: "Hmm, Kiddle, those carrots look yummy. I'm going to have a bite since you're not eating them."
Kiddle, trying to open my mouth: "MAH CARROT!! SPIH IH OW! SPIH IH OW!"
Me, showing him my empty mouth: "Sorry. All gone. Why don't you have a bite?"
Kiddle: "NOOOO! NO BIE!"

***

On Sunday, we were sitting at the table, eating dinner. Earlier in the day he had found Mr. P's bizarre dinosaur puppet. It's huge, scary looking, and something only a little boy (or a little boy in a man's body) would love. He thought it was fantastic and carried it around most of the day, even feeding it bites of his quesadilla at dinner. Mr. P and I were chatting, when I realized Kiddle was having a conversation with the dinosaur. Not unusual for most kids, but it's rare to hear him directly talking to his toys and understand what he's saying:

"OKAY DIE-SO, HODE MAH HAN." (Ok dinosaur, hold my hand.)

"HODE MAH HAN, WE GO KOSS DE STEE." (While we go across the street.)

Awww! Too cute! And it's even cuter to realize he does listen to me. Even when he's actively ignoring what I say.

"Oh no. The bridge is out. I fix it!"

Yes, two complete, understandable (at least by me) sentences in a row. Yee haw! So it seems we're making a bit of progress on the language front. Finally. I swear this kid is never going to talk (... although if I hear "Mama, Mama, sit sit sit!" one more time ... argh!). I know, I know, he'll definitely talk one day and I'll wish for his silent days.

***

I did have a good touch-base convo with his speech therapist this week though. One thing we've never done -- because no one thinks it's truly a concern -- is have his hearing checked. I mean, I know he can hear just fine, but he still has such a mush mouth, it's gotten me thinking that maybe he's not hearing the same things we are. And his therapist said, yes, go ahead and get it checked, but she doesn't see any indications that we'll find anything wrong there. She still thinks he is just simply delayed in his speech. So that's a bit of good news, I suppose.

However ... at this point I don't really see the therapy really doing much good. And that's simply because Mr. Independent has yet to see the point of doing what his therapist wants to do. He'd rather just play with the toys and chat a bit. Great. Glad he's happy to be there. But it's a really expensive hour of playtime. Ronnie said that's fairly typical of his age -- after all, he's only two -- and hopefully one day soon he'll grasp what we're trying to accomplish there.

Aside from the fact that he does not have a people-pleaser bone in his body, I think a big part of his slow progress is that he's not that frustrated yet. He gets along just fine in the world and there have only been a few times he's gotten really mad at me for not understanding what he wants. (The full day of "I-AN, I-AN, I-AN!!" comes to mind. Several hours later ... Me: "Oh, you want to watch the Mystery Island episode of Word World?" Kiddle, with a big grin of relief: "I-AN!")

***

Another adorable interaction we often have:

Kiddle, on all fours, crawling about the room: "Moo. Moo. Moo!"
Me: "Oh, you must be a cow today."
Kiddle: "No, Mama. I a Kiddle!"

Hee hee.