Anything could happen in there. He could be working out the solution to time travel in there, flying free without any pre-limited conceepts and all I'm doing is paving over these brilliant new neural connections by teaching him 'duck' and 'bath' and 'cat food not for Charlies' as if he is plural. Which sometimes he seems to be these days...
I've tried, recently, to think without words. The problem is that I'm so busy thinking 'don't use words... oh no, those were words... damn... shhhh... shut up... no words... oh bugger... and so on. So, I've tried also to remember what thinking was like when I was very small and my earliest memories are either just flashes of images, or of trying to understand words.
I remember my parents begging me to fetch them 'a few' aspirin from the medicine cabinet when I was perhaps 4 or 5 and being very proud because I worked out that 'one' was one, 'a couple' was two and therefore that 'a few' was three. Looking back I now wonder how my hangover-ridden parents agreed to split them and if one of them kindly offered the other the chance to have two on the condition that they spent the morning dealing with me.
I have very clear memories of lying in my parents' bed watching the curtains get lighter and hatching a childish plot to fidget until they would wake up and play with me. I couldn't understand why grownups would possibly want to sleep while there was all that daytime outside the window to play in. Now, of course, I am plotting ways to get the spud to sleep in later. Currently this involves bringing him into our bed however something tells me this may be an own goal...
So, today we were in the park while I tried to
Somewhere near the top 50% of the things I worry about as a parent is 'will he ever learn to speak' and on balance I realise this is foolish. He just has to want to speak as much as he wants to play with the remote control - which tells me that I do in fact know what goes on inside his head, just not how it does it. One day speaking will become important for him and evidence suggests that once he decides that's what he wants to do he'll be lecturing at the local poly by the end of the week.
Until then I'm quite enjoying watching him process all this new information that's coming his way and hoping that by exposing him to 'In the Night Garden' every evening I'm not laying tarmac over the pathways to brilliance.