The thing that really bothers me about babies is that at one point they become toddlers.
And while I love and hate every stage – and while I love watching my kids grow and change – they pretty much never asked permission to not be my babies anymore.
And while, Astrid will be my official baby until the day I die – she is not officially a baby anymore.
And I’m mad at her.
You know that day you when you get your little baby boy’s curls cut off and BOOM – you have a little man. Well for girls, you wait as long as humanly possibly to put pigtails in their hair because BOOM – you have a little girl. Not a baby.
It was a huge mistake to do this. I should have waited until she was seven.
So I sobbed all day on Saturday watching little miss pigtail and kept saying “just look at her, look at her – all grown up. Where did my baby go?”
Eloise kept rolling her eyes and yelling at me “Mom, mom – um like everyone grows up. Like I was a baby and now I’m not, and like you were a baby and now you are not, and I am sure that Grammy pretty much got over. Move on. Astrid has to grow up because that would be like totally weird for her to be an actual baby forever. For real.”
And I was like “it would like not be weird at all”
And she was all like “yeah, like totally weird.”
And I was all like “na ah”
And she was like “that like totally isn’t a word”
And I was all like “is so”
And she was all like “mom, you are like so weird”
But what does Eloise know? So I kept sobbing and saying to Astrid “oh, you are so big, oh my big girl.”
…and Astrid responded to me every time with “no Mama me little. Me little. Me little. Me have two piggies.”
Such a show off. This age between 18 and 24 months is like a light switch being turned on. She knows her colors, her shapes, is putting together sentences, can memorize books and recite them, knows song lyrics, and most importantly is starting to understand and tell jokes. She can make fake burp noises.
She demands her nails to be polished like her sisters. Is particular on what color they are. She wants pretty dresses and hats to match. She lines up and counts her shoes…you know “one, three, nineteen, thirteen, eleven, TWENTY!”
She loves candy and ice cream.
And now she sports piggies. Two piggies. Because she is no longer a baby.