If you had asked me a year ago, I would have told you all I want in this world is for my son to talk. I prayed for a miracle. I prayed for the right people to help Killi. I prayed for just the slightest sign that my son would acknowledge me; maybe just a smile or a glance and maybe, just maybe we could maintain eye contact…

I shared with you recently that my son has progressed so quickly, like none of us would have imagined, in his therapy. He is a sponge soaking up every little thing and every word we say.

He has also decided he is his own man now. He makes the rules. He is the creator of his own destiny!

Who knew you could think that way at 3 years old but apparently you can. This new sense of self-awareness has manifested itself in two ways, which are extremely frustrating for me but at the same time I want to say “great job for being your own person!”  (Funny how it can be so conflicting…)

I can pee wherever and whenever I want!

Not sure how this came about. He was potty trained. He did a great job. He never fought going to the restroom. Life was good and then one day, my son came home from school and it all went to crap (pun intended).

When he comes home at the end of the day, I can hear him coming down the hallway from the elevator. I assume the position, with arms wide open sitting on the floor so he can run into my arms as soon as the door is open. This is my absolute favorite time of day, when he opens the door and smiles at me like he hasn’t seen me in a million years and runs into my arms knocking me over hugging me around the neck and planting a big kiss on my cheek. On this one afternoon after our welcome home tradition, we played for a bit with some toys and I noticed he was doing the cross the legs/I need to pee waddle. Our conversation went something like this:

Mom: “Come Killi, let’s go potty.”

Killi: “No!”

Mommy: “Come on bud. We have to be a big kid and go to the bathroom.”

Killi: “No! No! Pee Pee in floor!”

Mom: (Shocked with this response) “Excuse me? No way! Get in the bathroom now please.”

Killi: “No! I pee pee in floor!!!!!!!”

Mom: “Come on. Follow me!” (I walk into the bathroom but he doesn’t follow so I go back to the living room.)

Killi: “I pee pee in floor.”

And he did. He stood there looking in my eyes with this “Forget you mom! You can’t tell me what to do!” look and he proceeded to pee all over the floor.

My jaw dropped. Is this happening? Did he just tell me no and actually do this? After the initial shock subsided I yanked him up so quickly (like any southern momma would) and put him in the bathroom to clean him up.

This was the beginning just a couple of weeks ago, when my son decided he was his own man and he would mark his territory as he desired. He may not be able to control much in his little life but this is one thing he can control in his little three year old world; when and where he will urinate. Needless to say, I spoke with Ali about this and he has a plan we will be implementing (I am sure there will be a post about that soon).

“No! I wanna talk!”

My son is now speaking NON-STOP. When I say non-stop I mean it. I feel like he barely takes a breath anymore. I know he is so excited and wants to tell me all about his day or really just whatever thought crosses his mind. This is so exciting!!! It is so exhausting.

There is no way that I will tell him to stop talking… or at least that is what I had always said but the other night I made a mistake.

It was bedtime. We had already been “battling” or really “stalling” for a while. Finally, I was able to stop the bathroom potty trips and the “I WANT ONE MORE BOOK!!!!” argument and we were all snuggled in his bed. He always says “mommy, hold you” this is because I ask him “do you want me to hold you?” it is so cute.

We are in the bed. We have giraffe. We have the covers. We have mommy still in the bed. Ok we are ready for sleep!

My son, Mr. Chatty Kathy, talked for about 30-40 minutes straight. He ran through every vocabulary word he knew. He sang every song he knew (with some words missing here and there). We said prayers where he asked God to bless every single person he knew by name including people I don’t think we even know and a “kitty cat”, which I still have no idea who’s cat he is praying for. He went on and on and on and after about 30 minutes I said very lovingly and in a whisper “Ok baby. No more talking. It’s time for bed.”

I almost cried. I had told him not to talk! Yes; I was hungry on the verge of hangry. Yes; I was tired from being up with him the previous night. BUT neither of those things are a good enough excuse or reason to tell my son, who I desperately wanted to speak, “no more talking.” I was so mad at myself. I still am a little and I hope he will forget that I said it.

He responded “No. I wanna talk!” I just held him a little tighter and said “That’s right Killi. You talk all you want.”

Although, as a parent I lose my patience with the constant “Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. (x100)” in what seems to feel like less than 30 seconds. I am so proud that my son is finally speaking. He finally wants to tell me what’s going on. What hurts? What makes him mad? That he is hungry. That he wants to pee; even if it is in the floor.

I am torn between the need to feel in control as the parent and the overwhelming joy that is my son finally sharing his very strong personality with us. I think I will relinquish control for this little “phase” (since it will be over in about a week- as most are) and enjoy the extra talking at bedtime and I will wipe up the pee on the floor with a smile on my heart and think to myself; I will never again have this moment with my boy.