She is almost three, and although we feel her ability to speak is very advanced, there are still many words that she pronounces incorrectly. We are happy that she pronounces them incorrectly because, at the end of the day, Tahlia uses her words more than she doesn’t use her words, which makes our lives so much easier.
For example, she entered into the demanding phase:
“Daddy give me that.”
“That is mine.”
“I want a banana.”
Because we don’t want to raise a rude little cherubim, we work on her being polite.
“Daddy I want that,” she’ll state.
“Daddy, may I have that, please?” I’ll say back to her.
“May I have that, pleeece?” It is soft, almost inaudible, but it is a move in the right direction.
Sometimes, I try a different approach, “Tahlia, can you ask for that politely?”
“Pleece.” Yes, it is not a question. It is a statement, but, at least, it is the right word.
And in this drive to say things in a nice way, we are glad that she says so many things.
Many of the things she says make us laugh out loud. Recently, for Thanksgiving, Nona gave Tahlia a little pilgrim and Native American bear from Hallmark. She decided that Asher would keep the Native American, and she would keep the pilgrim. But it’s not the pilgrim; it’s the “Pidum bear.”
One of the cutest things she says, though, is when she wants to use her Melissa and Doug easel. We keep it in our kitchen so that she can color, chalk, or paint on it whenever she wants. Well, she actually can’t do any of those things when ever she wants. We have removed the chalk tray because Asher, when he would see it, would high-tail over to it before you could grab him so that he could shove chalk in his mouth. The whole time you would say, “Asher, wait, wait, wait,” with the utmost urgency, “we don’t put chalk in our mouths,” he would have a giant grin on his yellow, pink, or purple chalked mouth. The tray for the paint is there, but it is empty, for the same reason we removed the chalk tray. But, when she wants to paint, we’ll give her the paints—same goes for the chalk.
She knows that when she wants to use the easel, all she has to do is ask.
“Mommy, can I use the wheesel?”
The first askings were difficult, but we quickly figured it out.
We, of course, without mocking, always reply, “Yes, Tahlia, you can use the weasel.”