Playing Parrot

Lately Sweet'ums has made me do a lot of thinking. I realized that children are an incredible way to tell how often you say certain things.

For example: The other day, Sweet'ums was talking to herself, and then suddenly she just starts calling, "Just a minute! Just a minute!" the way she hears us say when we ask each other to do things. I don't remember exactly what was going on at the moment, but since then she says it often.

Another example: When Sweet'ums is agitated at us, like when we've told her that she can't do something and she's upset about it, she's gotten to where she says something like "bay-bay-bay-bee" really fast. It puzzled us for a while and we weren't really sure where she got it from. Then, riding down our road the other day, Nice Guy was following too close to the car in front of him and nearly hit it when the guy turned into a driveway (without a blinker, of course). Luckily we were only going like fifteen miles per hour and it was easy enough to stop, but in the split second between the guy starting to turn and NG hitting the brakes I shrieked, "BabyBabyBabyBaby!" It resulted in an argument about which was worse, NG following too closer or the guy turning without a blinker, but that part is irrelevant. The moment it came out of my mouth I realized what Sweet'ums had been saying. She was mimicking what I shriek in moments of surprise and fear, usually in the car, to my husband.

One last example: On our way out of the grocery store NG leaned down to pick up Sweet'ums, saying to her, "Come here, Sweetie." Once he had her in his arms, she hugged him and said, "Come here, baby." I believe I have also mentioned before that she calls me Baby Mommy, and that I suspected that it had something to do with me calling her Baby so much and I thought she was calling me Baby either as an endearment or as a possessive (her version of "Baby's Mommy").

I guess it really shows the range of the things we say and the way we live. We help each other with things around here a lot, but usually the request takes a moment to complete. I'm constantly scolding him for careless things done while driving or careless moments around the house. And I'm constantly calling to Sweet'ums to help me with something, or to keep her out of trouble, or to show her something.

These aren't the only things she says, of course, but they really stuck out to me. They're a cross-section of our average day, and they show that she's listening even when she doesn't seem to be. She overhears and repeats pieces of our normal household conversations, tries to mimic our actions, and can even use some of our phrases in context (bay-bay-bay-bee, anyone?). She notices when I'm stressed, and how I react and what I say. She also remembers our tender moments, the things we share with her, and the way we take care of her. Like right now I'm sick, and she keeps bringing me the tube of Vicks cream that I kept her slathered with when she was sick.

I knew when we began this crazy adventure that as the primary female role model to a little girl I'd be mimicked and imitated and watched. But there's just something about living it. You can't really prepare yourself for how it feels to hold yourself to such a standard until you're watching your very own Mini-Me copy your every move. NG has the burden of being idolized, but I've got the burden of being an example. And other than when I catch myself misbehaving, or when I don't really know how to react to something, I really do love that burden.

It really does make you think, though. It's kind of scary. One day I'll look at her and I'll see myself, and one of two things will happen: either I'll like what I see, or I won't. Hopefully, between my example and her own moral code and personality, I'll like what I see when I look at her seventeen or eighteen years from now. I'm not perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but I at least hope to be a fitting role model to my little parrot.