Baby Talk

I can’t tell you the number of times I have had to say to my kids, “Baby talk is only cute when it is coming from an actual baby”.    I don’t know what it is about baby talk that bothers me so much, it just makes my skin crawl.  We spend all this time trying to get our kids to speak properly and then they default to baby talk when they want something or are trying to get their way.  If you want something special, use your manners and enunciate and I will get it for you, if you use baby talk I will make spinach for dinner.


That being said, I have come to the realization that I have been using some kind of baby talk for years and not even known it.  I say things like, “Do you need to go pee pee before we leave?  Do you want blankie for sleepy time?  What do you want to drink with din-din, chockie (chocolate) milk?  You love your sissy, don’t you, now give her smoochies.”  Holy Shit!  This is what happens to a brain after babies and staying at home.  I never talked like this at work and would have fired anyone that did.  I can’t imagine an adult coming to me and saying, “I got someone’s  financials all done-done.  Who wants to know what their ROI is?  Who wants to go to the big girl meeting?”


It’s not just the baby talk that I have discovered, it is also talking in third person, another pet peeve I have always had.  “Mommy loves you.  Mommy is making din-din for you.  Mommy is so proud of you.  Mommy wants you to clean up your pigsty.”  Good Lord, how does this happen?  I know there was a point in my life where I could have a conversation without inserting baby talk, bad grammar or a touch of narcissism.


I am even sorrier to report that it’s not just the kids I baby talk to.  My readers know I share an office with two hamsters and while I sit here working, blogging or Facebooking the hamsters take special interest in what I do and try to get my attention by rattling their cage doors.  What do I do in response?  “Who’s a pretty girl?  Does pretty girl want to come out for a little scratchy?  Who is hungry, I got broccoli for today!  You want grandma to get you out and play?”  Yes, not only do I speak in third person to the hamster, I also call myself grandma, as that’s what my kids tell the hamster I am.  No, I am not fucking kidding, I am completely for real and don’t think it doesn’t make me want to jump off my roof when that sinks in to my head.


It’s disturbing at best to know this has happened to me, as I would like to think of myself as a strong, intelligent woman.  Truth be told, I am a scary bitch at times and have been known to make grown men cry, not exactly on purpose, but it has happened.  It’s one of those things that you claim will never happen, but does, just like my promise to never allow my kids to eat McDonalds, to not take the easy route or dirty dance at a party after a bottle of wine.  They all sound good and reasonable, but that’s as far as it gets.  I would like to keep ranting, but right now grandma’s hamster want to come out for some play time and some fresh veg-vegs, which is either produce or what my brain has turned into.


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