Toddlers get a bad rap when it comes to their grasp of the English language.
From We goed outside to What’s she’s name?, small children are notorious for grammar errors. Sure, sometimes we laugh about it. We might even quote them on Facebook as bait for kids-say-the-darndest-things comments from relatives. But in general, toddlers aren’t exactly known for their eloquence.
Maybe we’re not giving them enough credit.
We know that in many cases they’re simply trying to follow the rules of a language that likes to occasionally throw a wrench into the works (Mommy drived us to preschool today). Today, though, I want to address another issue: the matter of meaning.
Because in between the incorrect pronouns and the butchered past tenses, there are moments of linguistic brilliance just waiting to be appreciated. We just need to listen for them.
Take my daughter’s use of the word Safe.
Safe. adj \ˈsāf\
Free from harm or risk.
My daughter’s meaning of this word carries much more weight than the simple definition above. To her it means Home. Warm. In the arms of my mother.
After her bath in the evening she stands on the bathroom rug, all drippy and clean and smelling of baby soap. I reach for a towel and she always pleads, I want to be safe in it. This is her way of telling us that she wants to be wrapped tightly, embraced by terry cloth, and scooped up to place her wet head on my shoulder.
Safe.
On rainy days we often run from the car to the house. As soon as I place the key in the door I hear her whisper the word to herself.
Safe.
Sometimes in the early morning she climbs into bed between her father and me. She puts one hand on me, one hand on him, and we are connected, a sleepy trinity. I hear her breath settle, feel the warmth of a night of sleeping.
I think about how recently she couldn’t climb into our bed on her own. How it wasn’t long ago that our morning routine involved nursing, that sweet skin-on-skin.
Safe.
Small children know what they mean before they have the words to express it. There is so much richness in the word choices at this age, so much budding wisdom. There’s so much to be gained by slowing down, listening, and following their line of logic back to its source. It’s a rich seam of truth, just waiting to be mined.
What wisdom have you gained from your toddlers’ words?
I LOVE this, I have always said that my job as mom is to give my children the feeling of safety!
My favorite moment with your particular toddler and language was just this week… I was in the hall, checking on someone in the bathroom. The 2s were lining up to leave the gym, and I heard this oh-so-joyful shout, “Ms. Jenny!!” Such an absolutely an enthusiastic greeting, as if she was thrilled to see me, thrilled to be able to put the right name to me, thrilled for me to see her, all at the same time. One of the best moments of my week.
Jenny Hobson recently posted..CFL-pocalypse
I can just imagine that, Jenny. So funny! Thanks for telling me about it!
I just have to say that running into you, Jenny, on this blog reminds me of one of the things I love best about this town…and one of the things that most baffles me about it: you never know when or how the people you know will turn out to know each other.
Hey, Jill! It’s a wacky town. Hope you’re having a good semester and over the strep!
Jenny Hobson recently posted..Be all you can be…
You know, I think my four year old son probably means the same thing when he demands to be carried around wrapped up in his towel after his bath. I always thought he was just too cold to bolt as far as his bedroom to get dressed. I’ll have to remember this next bath.
Jessie Powell recently posted..Friday Fluff February 3, 2012
One of the earliest sentences my daughters formed was, “Momma hold you?” You can bet I did every single time, and I did not dare correct their request once. I figured we would work on the correctness later.
Cathi recently posted..Friday’s quote
Cathi, that’s so funny. I have a friend whose son did the same thing- he’d ask her to “pick you up” : )