La Vie de Miccah Marie
my thoughts on life, love, faith, and motherhood
Day 13/31 Five Minute Free Writes: Talk
My oldest daughter just turned two in early June. She had been talking for about a year even prior to that. Everywhere I take her, whether it be to her classroom at church or the YMCA or even to the grocery store, people are stunned that she’s only two because she can talk so well. Her vocabulary is impressive, even for most three or even four year olds. However, because she can speak so clearly and with her vocabulary, I totally expect her to act older. I get so frustrated when she changes outfits at least five times in a day, or throws food on the floor, or sticks her hand in the toilet, or spits inside, or snaps back, “NO!” when I ask her (or tell her) to do something. She’s two. She’s exploring her independence long after she’s mastered the English language expected of her age.
5 Comments on “Day 13/31 Five Minute Free Writes: Talk”
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The MOPS blog article I wrote entitled Love Times Two
The Laughing Gateau
La Vie de Miccah Marie 
This made me chuckle, my youngest is 8. We have 6. With the oldest one I remember feeling the same way, then my second in line was so short for so long we kinda had the opposite problem, not expecting enough. What a joy either way and it seems you at least have a sense of humor about it all. Thanks for sharing. FMF 31-day neighbor #5.
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Hi Maxine! thank you so much for stopping by! Wow, I can’t keep my head on straight with 2. How’d you do 6? I guess the older ones become helpful one day, right? 🙂
miccah
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2 is the hardest. 3 is a bit easier, after that it gets easier yet. Yes, they help out, but also because you learn that nothing will ever have an absolute “right” way to be done. lol 🙂
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How beautifully honest. I ran into this when my stepson came into my life, age three. I went from no children to a three year old who I loved (and love!) more than I thought I was capable of.
But… he was big for his age. He looked at least five. People treated him like he was slow, because they assumed he was older, and that made me crazy. But I also had to remind ~myself~ to have patience. That he was three. Or five. Or ten. Because at ten, he looked thirteen. It’s strange to think about an image in one’s head taking precedence over the really real world, but it’s totally a thing.
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Yes, it totally is a thing. I love how you put it. Kids have a way of drawing out the deepest love you ever thought possible- and on the opposite end of the spectrum, the most angst! xo
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