Eamon to English Dictionary

Many of you who I see on frequent basis are familiar with my thinly veiled anxiety about my son's lack of coherent speech. I continually compare him to his sisters and I know that is not fair. I truly remember Madeline talking as she crawled. And she walked at 10 months. I remember worrying about Sawyer because she starting talking in sentences later than Madda- at 14 months. My 21-month old son is barely understandable to anyone except for me. Granted, the kid had ear infections from 12 months through 18 months, and I reason that if you cannot hear, you cannot talk. Critical language development is happening in that window and I understand that Eamon has some catching up to do. I try to stay calm and to realize that if there were a real problem, that my pediatrician would have sent us to speech therapy. Nonetheless, I worry. To alleviate some anxiety and hopefully generate a couple good laughs (from myself and my lovely readers), I am going to write an Eamon to English Dictionary below. I will not be completing this task in alphabetical order.


Mommy = Mama
Daddy= Da-da
Madda = Da-da
Sawyer = Da-da (with the faintest "er" sound in the second "da")
Dora = Da-da (sometimes an "r" sound in included, making it Da-ra)
There it is = Da-da-da (correct inflection)
Peek-a-boo = Da-da-da (again, correct voice tone and inflection)
(is anyone else starting to see a pattern here?)
Car = Cah
Ball = Bah
Pop-Pop = Pa-Pa
Papaw = Pa-Pa
Doggie = Dah-key (weird nasal sound included)
Outside = Da-da
More = Mah
Bubbles = Buh-buh
Pop Pa = pa-pa
Truck = Cuck

There are many more lovely pronunciations from my son. Most of them, as you can imagine sound like "Da-Da." It is really funny how much we worry about our kids. We tend to overestimate how much influence we have over who they are and what they do. Of course, parents do have some control. We can choose what we expose them to. We try our best. Nonetheless, a wise therapist once told me that we tend to think children are much more malleable than they actually are. I am starting to believe that our children come with a somewhat preset developmental tract/personality/temperament and that we have only a fraction of control over it, as compared to what we would like. Eamon will talk when he is ready. He will certainly speak as soon as all of the developmental factors necessary are in place. He will talk when his sisters and his overbearing mother stop babying him and talking for him. He will talk regardless of whether I name/identify every single person/item/animal/weather system/toy etc. in the entire house five million times. It is there. I just need to be patient and wait for the factors necessary to present themselves. Until then, I'll be here counting and obsessing about the number of words and animal sounds he has in his repertoire. What's your worry about your wonderful offspring? I'd love to hear what you obsess about unnecessarily.

Adventures In Babysitting

Yes, I understand that I stole the title of this post from an eighties movie. There is simply no better way to title this entry. If you are in need of a good laugh, you have come to the right place. I have a story that is sure to amuse.

I decided to enlist the help of a very part-time babysitter this summer in order to maintain my sanity and possibly accomplish a few tasks without the help of my children. A good friend referred me to a capable babysitter and we set up a weekly four-hour time slot where she could corral the kids so that I could attempt to regain my hold on reality. The first time our new babysitter showed up to meet us (we'll call her Holly), I have no doubt that she assessed the madness of our house and was wishing she would have never gotten herself into the situation. Nonetheless, Holly showed up for her first scheduled day of babysitting with only Sawyer and Eamon as charges. Madeline was not yet finished with school and according to Holly, the two youngest were quite pleasant. At this point, it is possible that Holly decided that she had jumped to conclusions on her first visit. She may have even been looking forward to seeing us again. Well, let me just tell you about her second visit to our home.

On her second scheduled visit, Holly walked into a perfect storm. I was unable to leave the house during this babysitting session because we had taken Jason's car to the shop for some repairs the week. Unfortunately since it was a holiday weekend, we had not yet gotten it back. Of course, I could have woken up the kids, strapped them all in and driven Jason to work so that I could have had use of a car. The fact is, we had just returned at 9pm the night before from a busy visit with family in Minnesota. The kids were exhausted and I hated to wake them. So I let them sleep and planned to take a lengthy walk, followed by finishing various tasks around the house while Holly watched the kids. As soon as she arrived, I turned the reins over to her and headed out for my walk. After a nice walk, I tried to sneak into the house and up to my bedroom so that I could take a shower without being spotted by my kids. (Apparently my hips have magnets in them, because if I am in the house someone is attached to my side.) I was unable to slide in without being detected and Eamon was crying at my side within seconds. Holly grabbed him and headed out of my room. Madeline quickly took his place, knocking on the locked bathroom door. She needed to use the potty. I told her to use one of the other 3 bathrooms in the house. She begged and I relented and unlocked the door. She did her business and headed out, closing the door behind her (did you notice that I said closing and not locking?). So there I stood (in the buff), hand on the handle of the shower door when a loud ruckus drew my attention to the bathroom door, approximately ten feet away. And then it happend: The door explodes open and in BARGES Madeline, followed by Sawyer, crying Eamon and THE BABYSITTER. And I am standing there completely naked. I exclaim, "OH MY GOD!!" and the babysitter turns away, apparently in horror of what she has just seen. Needless to say, Madeline now has a complete understanding of why you should always knock before entering.

Now, I have attempted to keep fit. Nonetheless, I am a thirty-five year old woman who has birthed and nursed three children. I look alright in clothes. I can't say the same about how I look in my birthday suit. Anyway, in the shock of this incident, the kids and the babysitter quickly retreated from the bathroom and I was able to put on my robe and help get the situation diffused. My only comment to Holly, before I went back to my room to get in the shower was, "At least it was me and not Jason." Now that would have been really creepy. I was able to smooth the whole thing over later in the day by laughing it off and letting her know that I found the whole thing more amusing than embarrassing. I think she appreciated that I saw the incident as comic relief and not the source of ongoing awkwardness between us. Let's be honest though, there is nothing comfortable about seeing your employer naked. When I told Jason the story, he laughed until he cried and then said, "At least it was you she saw naked and not me." Great minds think alike. Hopefully you now understand why I had to steal the title of this post from a cheesy eighties film. I'm hoping that Holly sees the whole incident as one of her "Adventures In Babysitting" and not as a reason to never return to my home.