So far one of the most fun parts of fatherhood has been listening to Brenden learn English. Because his brain is developing at the same time he is learning it, his journey is different from that of an adult trying to learn a second language. If I try to learn French, I approach it from an English frame of reference and look for equivalent words and phrases between the two languages. I continue to think in English for quite a while until I have developed a fairly solid command of the new language. To say something in French, I first decide what to say in English and then translate it.

We can’t remember a time when every language was foreign, like it is for a baby, to whom everyone sounds like the teacher from the Charlie Brown cartoons. That concept scares me. I am so dependent on language – for learning about the world, for communicating with friends and family, for meeting my needs, for doing my job – that I would be devastated to suddenly lose the ability to communicate in words. But a baby has never known any different. In utero, he hears muffled voices from outside but doesn’t know what they mean or even that they have meaning. Only after repeatedly associating a few common words (momma, daddy, bottle) with visible people and objects after birth does he start to understand the purpose and power of language. Later he learns that people and objects can have qualities (blue, tall, cold) and perform actions (sit, eat, run).

Brenden started with the typical words such as “mommy” and “daddy”. At some point Brenden began to parrot us more often. If I said, “We’re going to the store,” he might reply, “Store,” adding his cute little inflection. This made us watch our mouths more closely. Then he started to figure out some of the rules behind word structure, such as the tendency of certain verb forms to end in -ing. I was amazed when he began to apply that rule to invent his own words. The thought “I am getting down from the chair” became “downing”. He began repeating words he had only heard once or twice and using them correctly. If he couldn’t pronounce a word properly, he invented and stuck with his own version, turning “nuggets” into “nunnies” and “blueberries” into “blueys”. He began to pair nouns with verbs, as in “hold the bowl” or “going Grammy’s house”. I am very proud of his abilities, but also a bit scared. I don’t think he’s “supposed” to be this verbal at 22 months.

Perhaps the best phrase yet came today. I was watching the boys while Jenny went on a girls’ weekend to Canton. Brenden had just awoken from a nap and stood at his window looking at cars. I joined him at the window and talked to him about the cars. After a pause, in the sweetest little voice, he said the magic words that every parent loves to hear.

“Love you, Daddy.”

I melted. I could be wrong, but I’m pretty sure he understood and meant it.

Thank God for giving us the ability to talk to each other.