His Voice

As a mom, I've learned to live in two distinct time zones at all times - the present, and the faraway future.

In the land of faraway future, I view everything my kids are doing through a lens of being an old lady squinting at photographs, reminiscing about what they used to do. And feeling like my heart is being ripped out of my chest with longing.

One day I'll look back on this picture and bawl my eyes out.

I know this feeling because I already do it with pictures of baby Judah. Six years ago I held this colicky, fussy infant in my arms and cursed the heavens often. But when I look back on those pictures, I'm filled with wistfulness...though I definitely wouldn't choose to go back in time.

So because of this double-vision living, I already know that one of things I'll miss the most, is Noah's voice.

I really can't explain the allure of it. But even Judah will sometimes stop in the middle of conversation and exclaim, "Noah, I just love the way you say that word! It's so cute. Say it again."

Noah's voice is intoxicating because he talks with the grammar and vocabulary of a much older child but in the babyish voice of a much younger child. Often strangers can not make out what he's saying at all, so gibberish sounding is his little voice.

But what makes it even more delicious, is the weird and wonderful content of his speech. Some of my favorites:

To express that something is exactly the same (like I gave him and Judah the exact same amount and color of M&M's because I'm totally pwned like that) he'll sing-say:
Same, same
Double same!

He likes to spell out words so he often calls me:
Em-oh-em!
And I have to respond to him with:
Double U-Aych-Ay-Tee, En-Oh-Ay-Aych?

I also love when he adds a "second verse" to songs. For example, he likes the "bad boys" song that he picked up from Judah - Bad boys, bad boys, watcha gonna do when they come for you?

His new verse goes - Good girls, good girls, watch gonna do when you go to church?

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Pastor's kid.

And then there's just delightful displays of the wonderful and weird logic of a child, like when he mused to himself in the middle of washing his hands one day, in a pensive voice:
Mommy, mommy, your penis is a vagina...
But our butts are the same!

Hmmmm...indeed they are, my love.

Not sure if I'll be cherishing that thought for years to come.