My son's vocabulary, mannerisms, abilities, and everything else mature and improve noticeably on a daily basis. No hyperbole needed. It's unreal to me. I regularly find my jaw in a dropped state as I watch him or listen to what he says.
Sometimes, I'm struck by the upward movement more than other times. Tonight, a lump formed in my throat when my son referred to the spaghetti as noodles instead of what he has called them since he learned to talk: "nunus." "Nunus" is so deeply ingrained in our vocabularies that we even write it on the grocery list. There are words and terms that our son has come up with on his own that we say, too, for the cuteness of it all or for the sake of us all being on the same page. Grated cheese is "baby cheese," breastfeeding is "bed," and noodles are "nunus." So, when he so nonchalantly busted out with the noodle talk this evening, it hit me that he's growing up...fast.
Shoot, we're already 22% of the way through his childhood. (Yes, I've done the math. Don't judge me.) Color me freaked out! He no longer needs help washing his hands, swinging on the swing, or walk the dog. Now, he no longer calls them "nunus." It's only a matter of time before he's riding his bike around the block by himself while I sit at home trying to stave off a panic attack. Great googly-moogly...I'm off to breathe into a paper bag with my head between my knees.
Is it too much to ask that he say "nunus" into his 30s??!
