Air Guitar and Other Developments.

Imagine, if you can, a little sprite, barely over my knees, standing ever so close to me, peering up at me through her crooked bangs, with barely a smile on her pink lips. “Hi Mom,” she says to me, so matter-of-factly. I believe I misheard her. I look down and blink twice. “Hi Mom,” she repeats, louder this time. I crouch down and wrap my arms around her. “Peanut. I’m not your Mom. I’m your Momma. I’m your Mommy.” I insisted. I’m even her “Jeannie” sometimes when she overhears Daddy Bean calling me, but I didn’t remind her of that. But…Mom?

I don’t like it. It doesn’t sit well. I roll the word around in my mouth a bit and shake my head. “Moh-mah!” I say to her slowly. She giggles, finding the trick in this game. “Hi Mom! Hi Mom! Hi Mom” she chants in that little voice that makes you think pink and tulle and baby dolls. I sigh, exasperated, and squeeze her to me as she attempts to unravel herself from my grasp.

And that’s what it feels like. Already. It shouldn’t be happening so soon, but it is. Whenever I feel that this time is slipping away too fast I think about my mother and I wonder if she still feels like there’s not enough time with me still.

Today, M figured out how to escape her pack-and-play. My mom was downstairs talking on the phone with my dad when she heard squeals where there should have been silence. She crept upstairs only to find M out of the safe confines of her bed and peering through the netting of A’s bed. Audie was clearly disappointed that she had yet to learn the new trick. Mom called me up to inform me of this new development and to warn me to get a sturdy gate for the stairs, because surely M would discover that the table nestled quietly between the sisters’ cribs would be a perfect accomplice in her escape. When I arrived at my parents’ house a few hours later, the Pie proudly announced that she had a boo-boo on her head from the daring breakout.

The Pie’s other latest thing is playing air guitar (I am so not kidding. I’ve been trying to get it on video for days.) Meanwhile, her sister’s latest is that she now says, “yes” instead of “yeah,” and she says it with an air of disdain and impatience. Yes, she’s being snarky! And if you try to hard to collect a kiss from Miss A, you’ll only get a shove and an admonishment, “No Momma! No!” Which she also says when Pie’s umpteenth rendition of “Twinkle Twinkle” begins to grate on her nerves.

They’re growing up. They’re developing personalities that are so distinctive that I am bewildered daily that these little people were once just beans on a screen. They don’t get it now, but these little milestones, these developmental achievements that the baby books cheer for, breaks my heart as much as they make it burst with pride. When the Pie walked into the kitchen yesterday and inquired, “What you doin’ Momma?” I chuckled at her spunky delivery and at the same time I was fascinated that she is having conversations with me. I replied to her as if I were discussing my new recipe with a good old friend and before I could finish, she was off to another adventure, but there it was. They’re growing up.