Baby Talk

I did not think I would become a baby talking parent. In fact, throughout my pregnancy, I would listen in disdain as moms cooed in high pitched voices and babbled incoherently to their little ones, smug in my resolve that I would never demean my baby by talking to him as if he were a cartoon mouse.

As with most of my grandiose parenting philosophies pre-baby, this plan came to a screeching halt within the first month of becoming a mother. Squeaky voices, funny faces,  enthusiastic exclamations for absolutely no reason (“Isn’t it fun to sit in the bouncer and watch mommy make toast?!!”), and spontaneous, nonsensical song bursts to derail a potential meltdown in the car seat ('the traffic downtown is so silly isn’t it? Let's play with your sock! la la la….''') are communications strategies I now lean on daily.

For whatever reason, Cal is amused for longer and calmed more quickly when I throw a healthy dose of gibberish into the mix. And if I can get a big gummy smile or a melt-your-heart giggle out of channeling my inner cartoon mouse, I will do so every time.