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Mommy, YOU'RE a Baby!

My daughter is growing up too fast. She is already telling people she’s 4. She met a boy of 5 at the park and he told her he didn’t play with anyone younger – “babies” he called them. She said: that’s ok I was 5 yesterday. It seemed to satisfy him just fine. I’m glad she can’t write well enough to give out her number.

I had parent-teacher conference yesterday and according to the teacher, my child is fine. She is a bit of a bossy boots but good in school and has hit the developmental milestones a 3 year old is supposed to reach. She is alert and has fine motor skills, which she wants to put to good use applying makeup. There are enough things in our world for “adults only” and I don’t want to raise this one to the level of driving, alcohol and steak knives.

She can’t write yet but she’s enthusiastic about trying. Personally, I think she’s motivated by the allure of using a pen. “Babies don’t have pens,” she says. She’s great at climbing. Though I don’t think she’ll ever be climbing Everest. To do that, you’ve got to “respect the mountain”. She’s not even respecting her mom anymore.

I hate your car she says. I hate grey. All the tourists have better cars than you. Those are fighting words from a 3 year old. Sort of like the word “baby”. “You’re a baby, mommy,” she’ll say when mad. That’s one of them fightin’ words.

I'm also a baby because I don't wear much makeup and I like watching SpongeBob. I do point out to her that I don't drink from a bottle or wear diapers. "You're. A. Baby. Mommy," she adamently replies. Touché. Where did she learn that kind of vocal inflection?

In a loving mood, I say “hey baby” and she’ll say “I’m NOT a baby”. You’re a baby, mom. The idea that she’ll always be my baby is lost on her now but I’m confident one day she’ll understand and appreciate it. In the meantime, I’m stocking up on the valium.