Today Mamie turns 20 months old. Although she is still quite the baby, that sounds a little old to me. Twenty.Last night she slept next to me for a few hours while Doug was away on a business trip, and she looked big to me. Maybe it was the scale as she looks very small in her crib, but as she slept I stared at her and saw a child -- not a baby. I was trying to imagine her in the first grade, as a teenager, a young adult. What would she look like? What will she want to do? I confess that I'm hoping for a girlie-girl, someone who will want to take me shopping with her. I'd love for her to do a ballet class, piano lessons, to continue with her little tumbling class. But I also know that whatever she wants to go is gonna be fine. I don't want to hold her back or push her unnecessarily. (I will hold her back from wanting to wear Barbie ho clothes though.)
I ran into someone recently who informed me that her 16 month old would be going to Harvard. And yes, she was serious. I smiled at her as she spoke and thought INSANE IN THE MEMBRANE, but whatevers, as my friend Gisela says. Doug and I are really going to sit back and see what kind of kid Mamie develops into before we decide what school to send her to. Maybe she'll want to be a Waldorf kid, or maybe she'll want a school with a good sports program. Maybe a strict schedule be her thing. That's it, her thing.
Big news: Mamie is starting to talk a little more. Granted every other thing she says is "what's that?, who's that?, who is it?, and what is it?" But the other day she said "vagina." Three syllables. Then she went back to babbling.
Va-gi-na.
Good job, Mames.