A Mommy Story

Life with Cordy has been fun the past few days. She’s at an interesting stage in her development. While she still can’t express herself very well, her language comprehension skills are making large strides. Combine that with her other well-developed ability to understand and predict patterns, and you have a true avoidance of things she doesn’t want to do.

This is partly the fault of “the experts”. I’ve been beat over the head with the advice that you should always tell your baby/toddler what you’re doing to help their language development. This running monologue teaches them about language. Well, now I tell her everything we’re going to do: “We’re going to put our coats on now.” “I’m gonna wipe that nose of yours.” “Let’s change your diaper.”

All three of these sentences now have the same result. She understands exactly what I’m saying and takes off running. Language comprehension, pattern memory, and increased mobility result in several laps around the downstairs. She’s a miniature Running Man, trying to escape the evil hunter-mommy who wants to change that diaper of hers.

As I’ve mentioned before, our downstairs is laid out in a circular pattern: the living room opens to the dining room, which opens to the kitchen, which opens to the living room. The carpet is starting to have a running track worn into it from the chase we reenact several times a day.

Oh sure, I could catch her if I actually put some work into it. I walk behind her while she squeals and runs away from me. We probably complete at least three laps each time. I know that once I catch her, she’s going to be upset and fight me, which means that I’d rather tire her out a bit before the actual struggle versus power walking to catch her early. Besides, I’m too lazy to make my big butt power walk.

I suppose I could end the drama just by not announcing what I’m about to do. But to be honest, I get such a kick out of seeing her eyes widen and light up when she comprehends what I’ve said to her while she turns to run. Her little legs go as fast as they can, her arms swing, she huffs and puffs after the second lap or so, and she occasionally looks back to see if I’m gaining on her. It’s pure mommy entertainment.

Speaking of which, I smell a dirty diaper. I’d better go stretch for the next race.