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Saturday, January 15, 2011

baby o' mine.

i never understood why my baby brother was treated like a baby for most of his life.  it was explained to me but i didn't understand --- i didn't feel the explanation.  he was spoiled and doted on and inexplicably favored.

it was foreign to me until i had my own baby.

and by that, i mean.... LAST CHILD.

i knew when i had sophie that she was going to be our last little tike.  boy or girl, we wouldn't be trying for just one more.  i was ok with that concept because that allowed me to convince my hubster to try one last time.  i needed a big family.  i was from a big family.  i felt this want and need to continue that tradition.

so back to baby.....

i have one spoiled and doted upon little mess on my hands.  i know i helped create the little monster i did, but i can't help it.  she was my bayyyyyyyyybyyyyyyyyyy.  forever and always, my last little one.

knowing that she was my last i wanted to keep her little forever.  don't get me wrong, she's only four and a half, and thus... still little.  but you know it has to be bad when, at four and a half, she still baby talks and can run the house based on her shrill screams of anger and/or demand.  i.  made.  this.  mess.  i must clean it up.

i stress on a consistent multi-daily basis how much that baby talk grates on my last nerve.  but she keeps on keeping on.  and it irks me.  the other day she wanted a new purse.  one from my mom's store.  that sucker was $32.  she's four and a half, remember?  after a lot of negotiation between she and my mom, they agreed that sophie could have it for $3 and a grown up voice.

wiggawiggawhat?  winner winner chicken dinner, fo SHO!

so on the way home that day i had a grown-up conversation with her for the entire 15 minutes we were in the car.  we talked about school, about make-up, about cheerleading, and a billion other things.  it was awesome.  i could understand her and she actually made sense.

she didn't baby talk hardly at all that night.  it was great.  i mean completely less frustrating of a night.  you see, it's not just her baby talk, but also her baby cries that make being a home like being in a daycare.  constantly.  connnnnnnnnstantly

over the next week she still baby talked, but far less.  it was pretty amazing -- all for a purse.  i came home one day with information on cheerleading and soccer camp for her. we talked about it and she told me flat out that while she would enjoy soccer camp, she would be way too shy to do it, but with cheerleading, she knew she could get over being shy so she could perform.

back.  the.  truck.  up. 

this conversation just made me realize she's more like fourteen, than four.  and i'm not a fan.  it was at this very point that i wanted to kick myself in the head.  she's so little and only this little once in her life.  why do i want her to talk normal when that's going to lead to normal friends her age?  i'm kinda hip in her eyes right now and ultimately her most preferred playmate.  in her eyes, i totally rock.

her entire life started flashing in front of my eyes and i started to panic.  maybe baby talking isn't so bad?  could i really deal with being on her "b" list of friends?  am i ready for all things non-BABY with her?  am i ready to just be "mom" and no longer "mommyyyyyyyyyyy?!"

eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek!  what have i done?!

this is sophie:

now, suddenly, i'm speechless....

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