Saturday, 1 February 2014

A Ducky Makes "Bheh-Bheh"

Shabd is quickly building his vocabulary. He seems to love the way the word “car” rolls in his mouth. He also has an affinity for saying “PA!” – with an insistent almost urgent voice when he can’t find his father, or a gentler and lilting “Papa!” when he sees his dad driving up the driveway.

He’s quick to say “mum-mum” when he spots his evening meal and “Dada” when he spies his grandfather delivering the morning bread.

Thanks to a sticker on Kamal mama’s fridge, Shabd has also learnt the sounds of animals and can quite saliently imitate a horsey, a sheep, a cow, a ducky, a pig and the rousing cock-a-doodle-doo of a rooster!

In addition, he’s also learnt to roar like a lion quite convincingly.

Toddlers are amazing. They are born with absolutely no words in their vocabulary. Whether they are born in Spain or Bali or Tasmania, they have no concept of the local language spoken, be it Italian, Ukrainian or Creole. Their amazing brains absorb the incessant stimuli of their surroundings until they first start understanding then formulating until they are capable of communicating verbally with you in your language.

Shabd will be communicating with us in full sentences one day soon. Judging by the rate that he’s acquiring new words, this day seems no further than the new dawn yonder not yet broken free from this night.

While him being able to express himself using words will undoubtedly make it easier for us to understand and respond to his needs and wants, there is a sentimental part of me that already mourns the impending loss of my babbling, gurgling little baby boy.

I love coming home from work to hear Shabd babbling away in his room as he plays with his nounou and his toys. Or when he comes into the kitchen to tell me a long exciting story complete with wild hand gestures, emotionally charged facial expressions and a hearty laugh thrown in here and there for good measure.

It’s the most amazing feeling to hear Shabd singing in monosyllables and being able to recognize that he’s singing to the tune of “Hot Cross Buns” almost seamlessly as if the music is flowing from a special place inside his heart and not memory.

Every day, I’m in awe as he swiftly builds his personal repertoire of English and French nursery rhymes compounding his knowledge at an ever increasing speed. I’ve been told that this is normal, yet this doesn’t take from the awe I feel as his mother witnessing this growth.

I’m happy my home is a musical one. Between Shabd and his Papa, someone is always humming away or making music on the numerous little instruments that litter my home or even the bathroom sink! After all, said that “Music fills the infinite between two souls”.

Maybe Shabd will be a rock star (if rock stars will still exist when he’s twenty) or a talented pianist or even a great singer. A mother can dream!

But for now, rest assured, I’m content to have my little rock star bobbing his head up and down, doing the Madiba jive while Papa plays a rock number just for him!

2 comments:

  1. Shabd is growing up so beautifully. You should be so proud of yourself.. I really wouldn't be surprised if he does turn out to be a musician.. :-)

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  2. Shabd meaning music from the heavens...
    Not surprising then, his affinity with music, and having a South African mother, his affinity to the Madiba Jive. He's really cute doing that jive. Small hands moving rythmically to the music -A miniture version of Madiba!

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