I’m pretty sure my soon-to-be 3 year old is missing his eardrums. That has to be it. That is the only plausible reason for why he seems to be unable to hear me.
Day in and day out he asks me a question, I answer, he asks me again, I answer, he asks me again, I answer. Now, most of the time that he seems unable to hear me is when I am attempting to stop him from doing something. Say, for instance, eating marshmallows. It goes something like this:
Jack: Can I have a marshmallow?
Me: Not right now.
Jack: Can I have a marshmallow?
Me: Not right now, Jack.
Jack: Can I have a marshmallow?
Me: No, Jack. No marshmallow.
Jack: One more. One more. One more. Yeah.
And then he walks away with a marshmallow, leaving me stumped in his wake. There was no fit thrown, no display of contention. He simply walked away munching away on his marshmallow without a care in the world. Did I somehow convey to him that it was okay to have a marshmallow? Does he speak a different language, maybe? Perhaps he lives in a parallel universe in which “no” means “sure, have a marshmallow.” Interesting.
Assuming there is no parallel universe, back to the missing eardrums scenario I go. He appears to be understanding me as I speak, occasionally even nodding his head in affirmation. Aha! A lip reader. Or, maybe he can hear but doesn’t understand. It’s feasible he’s just trying to humor me and all he hears coming out of my mouth is “mwah, mwah, mwah,” when what I am really saying is “No you cannot drive your Power Wheels around inside the house,” as he nods and proceeds to work on muscling 50 pounds of pure power inside the sliding glass door. Or, the only other answer to this growing problem is, quite honestly, he could just be a tiny bit naughty.
Willful 3-year old boy or true medical mystery?
I’m going to have to look into this further.
Love to all, Mindy
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Angela
Little man is not a teeny bit naughty. Decipher that as you wish
A ha ha! You just perfectly described a typical interaction with a three year old. I swear that if there were a person brave enough to run a boarding school for three year olds, they’d make a fortune. Frustrating little critters.
Thanks for commenting on my blog. I’m enough of a narcissist that I crave blog comments.
And I always wanted my name to be spelled your way. The “Mindy” bike license plates were never spelled like mine.
Yeah, I remember the bike license plates issue. I remember trying to find a California plate one time and they had a Mindi, but no Mindy. What?!?? Thanks for the comment and I look forward to reading more of your blog!
Mindy
Oh, this post just cracks me up. I can remember witnessing a mother and child discussion very similar to this. The mother eventually ignored the child and he stood there and said, “mom. Mom. MOM!” I must have been drunk with the hormones of pregnancy because I remember thinking it was completely adorable and how absolutely dull my life was without something like that going on in my life.
Marly
Hi Marly! Yes, it was definitely your hormones talking…I remember thinking the same thing. Until I had my own kids. Now it’s as adorable as fingernails scratching a chalkboard. =) Thanks so much for stopping by!!
Mindy