Wait–hold everything. Back up. Deirdre is obsessed with babies. She looooooooooves babies. Babies are wonderful. We recently had a baby visiting over here, and Deirdre wanted to adopt it. She held it as much as we would let her and was fascinated by it’s tiny hands (tinier than hers), and soft hair. She sees babies EVERYWHERE!! In fact, she calls the kid models on cereal boxes and in magazines, and the illistrations in books “babies.” In fact, even if they look like they’re about 5 YEARS old, she still calls them babies. Babies, babies, babies. Babies all the time, everywhere, repeated without end. (As a ironic, hysterical note, Deirdre is NOT a baby. If you call her a baby, she says “Nooooo!” with such a sneer/smirk, as if you are undoubtable teasing her, making fun of her, out of your tiny little mind. Her, a baby? Yeah, right.) Okay, back to the story.
Today we went out shopping. Deirdre pointed out the babies in the magazine she was reading the shopping cart. She pointed out the babies in the hanging signs in Target. She pointed out 4-year old kids. But as we stopped and looked at the watches, Deirdre peered around the corner, and exclaimed:
“What?” said a voice, definitely older than a baby, though still a child.
“No, I’m not a baby!! I’m a big girl!!”
“No, I’m not baby!! See, I can jump up and down! I’m a big girl!!”
“No, I’m not a baby!” Footsteps, a murmured conversation.
“No, I’m not a baby!! My mommy said I was a big girl!!”
This little girl in pig-tails kept insisting she was too a big girl, and Deirdre kept calling her a baby, as though it was such an obvious fact she couldn’t see what the girl was making such a big deal out. The little girl would patiently say she was a big girl, as though trying to correct someone who obviously didn’t know a big girl when the saw one. Meanwhile, we all came down with a case of the giggles. Finally, Mom said that Deirdre didn’t know how to say a big girl, she only knew the word baby. (I think Deirdre could learn jolly well fast, if she wanted to, but she just likes babies better.) Justin told Deirdre that the girl was a toddler, and apparntly the girl had to go ask her Mom what a toddler was. (Her Mom was just as amused as we were.) Even as we left, though, they kept at it.
“What?” “Baby, baby!”
“No, I’m not a baby! I’m a big girl!!”
“I’m a big girl!”
(P.S. Deirdre has decided to learn colors now. Today she was pointing at blue things and calling them “boo”. Not bad for 18 mos. huh?)