Conversations

Baby Girl tells me from the back seat – “you be Miss Stormy!” As I drive, I think fast – who the hell? Do you mean Miss Toni? From school? “NO! MISS STORMY!” OK, um, do you mean Mystery? Miss Martha? Miss Janet? In the back seat she’s getting frustrated and she starts to cry “noooo MISS STORMY MISS STORMY.” OK baby I’m not sure who or what you mean so we’re going to have to let this go for now.

Over the next few days we repeat this conversation multiple times, never with a positive ending. Then, one day, we are dancing to Disney Princess music and in the Beauty in the Beast song, she sings, “true he’s no Prince Charming….” and Baby Girl says “See?!?!? You be Miss Stormy!” Lightning flashes and I stop dead. PRINCE CHARMING?! You want me to be Prince Charming? “YES!” she screams in delight. Ok sure, Baby, how did I not get this sooner? Because Miss Stormy sounds exactly like Prince Charming.

Another day – I have forgotten now what she was responding to – but she rolls her eyes at me and says “I KNOW Mom.” Because clearly I am the stupidest person on the planet. So I say, “I know you know, Baby, you know everything!” She responds “yes I do!” totally delighted with herself. And Daddy says “hey Baby Girl, where’s Dallas?” She doesn’t miss a beat, just looks at him like why are you asking me this? and says… “It’s outside.” The kid doesn’t even know she’s already showing signs of being a smart-ass.

The day before yesterday I was talking to her about why she should wear panties and be done with the diapers. (Actually pull-ups but she calls them Bi-pers. And she might as well, because she certainly doesn’t pull them down or up.) I said, “Baby if you wear panties you can use the potty instead of your diaper. Using the potty is what you’re supposed to do, it’s better if you use the potty.” She looks very seriously at me and says “Why?” She is so serious about this that I respond with “um, well, um because it’s better that’s why.” That obviously should have convinced her, right? I am certainly convinced there is nothing on God’s green earth that is harder than getting this child to use a potty. I don’t say “potty training” anymore because God knows the kid knows how to use it. She just won’t. She simply doesn’t see the point.

And as for Santa Claus? Let’s not rely on him. Please. She sees a My Little Pony play castle/house/one more piece of plastic in my house thingie on a TV advertisement and she exclaims “Look Mommy! I don’t have that! We should go to the store and get it!” And I say, well maybe Santa Claus will bring something like that. And she says, perfectly seriously, “or we could just go to the store and get it.” Who needs Santa Claus?

Baby Girl has a bad ear infection. Both ears, dripping gunk and causing pain. Last night for a few minutes she starts to eat and play on her own. I’m excited, thinking she’s turned a corner and I say “hey Baby Girl are you feeling a little better?” She considers my question and responds with “No. I’m still sick.” She is just so sure about everything. There are no grey areas for her. She is confident about everything she says. My conversations with her about school go something like this:

“How was school today? What did you do?”

“Cora wouldn’t play with me but I was a puppy in the gym and Arden got a boo boo and he cried and he was driving the cars and I … and I … and I … and Cora played with Rose and Colt wasn’t there he was sick and so and so got a time out and he cried but I didn’t.”

Oooookay, sure Baby. You didn’t get a time out? “No.” Did you eat your lunch? “No I didn’t.” Why not? A repeat of the above run-on, mostly indecipherable litany of the day. No direct answer. Now you have as much information as I do about what goes on in her school day. I listen to her ramble on and on, full of confidence that I am understanding every word.

I am not sure why I ever worried about her talking. I waited a very long time for her to say Mommy consistently and with confidence. She now speaks in full sentences, using words that I didn’t even know she knew. On a daily basis I look at her while she talks and think “where did you learn that?!” It’s amazing. This age she is at is amazing, and extremely frustrating. She knows everything. She can do things on my iPad that I don’t even know how to do. She speaks like a little literary genius. She can do latches on gates and buckles on saddles. Yet she won’t use a toilet consistently and still spills her milk at dinner. Every day she astounds me, and then reminds me that she’s still only three. Don’t grow up too fast Baby Girl. This world, your world, is still safe and fun. Stay in it as long as you can, and I’ll stay in it with you.