Faith recently taught Zane to say BLAAAAH. What the doctor might have you say but with a dash of comedic effect. Zane likes it and especially likes the part where he gets to stick his tongue out while saying it. We like the opportunity it provides in checking his mouth for uneaten food, or how much room there is for more.
Eventually he’ll catch on to our ruse and stop.
Speaking of reverse-psychology, we need ideas on how to stop his squealing. In the checkout line at the store last night he let loose with a signature high-pitched squeal. It hurt my ears and I was a couple feet away, the rest of the patrons surely experienced mass arrhythmia. I frowned and said, “No squealing,” to which he responded with an even louder and longer version. During the third one I put a knuckle in his mouth, which was surprising enough that he forget his plans for sonic destruction.
That’s not to say Zane’s vocalizing is limited to blahs and squeals. I took him to the apple orchard over the weekend and as we walked to see their pile-o-pumpkins a tractor drove by. At first Zane hid behind my leg, but curiosity won out as he first took a few peeks and then, holding on just in case, turned to take in the full noise and massiveness of the lumbering machine passing by within a few feet. When the tractor stopped he started walking towards it. I said, “That was pretty loud, wasn’t it?” Zane, in his little high pitched voice, didn’t even hesitate when he replied “Yeah!”
It may be parental wishfulness but I swear that he knows some of the alphabet. Last night I said, “A…B…C” and it sure sounded like he said “D”, followed by an “E” after I recited the first four letters. He seems to be saying A, B, C on his own sometimes, albeit in German or French.