My baby is no longer the baby.
Recently, my daughter gained a new cousin and is not the youngest anymore. I’m amazed at her willingness to take on this role. It’s like she’s been planning for it for years.
First, she decided that her baby cousin is not, in fact, a boy, as his parents contend. Despite meeting the newborn and even witnessing a diaper change, she’s determined that the new little one is a girl. She uses the correct name when referring to him, but continues to use the female pronoun when referring to him. . . or, um, her, I guess. “Oliver came!” my daughter will exclaim, “and she is my baby cousin! I’m the big girl and she’s the little girl!” If I attempt to correct her, wailing and gnashing of teeth ensues. I don’t attempt to correct her anymore.
Second, she’s sure she is baby Oliver’s mother. She’s dubbed a purple plastic dolphin her baby cousin, wrapping the bath toy in a blanket and putting it to bed. She’s also intrigued by the nursing she saw while visiting the new baby, and so has taken to putting the dolphin to her chest and “feeding” her, er, him (… it?!)
In one way, it’s sweet that my little girl already feels so maternal towards babies. In almost every other way, though, it’s pretty disconcerting to see my 2-year-old walking around with a purple plastic fish (okay, mammal) hanging from her chestal region. I’m choosing neutral reinforcement in this area, out of sheer confusion.
And finally, my little girl has detrmined to teach her newest cousin how to read. The important element here is that, of course, my little one, despite all of her wonderful genius, does not know how to read. I’ve started teaching her the sounds of letters and how they fit together into words, and she actually seems motivated to learn because she wants to teach Oliver. Strange thought pattern or great teaching tool? I’ll take the latter.
It’s been such a revelation to me to see my baby as the older one. And it’s also been surprising to see again what it’s like to welcome your first baby. I’ve thought a lot about how that first day, that first week and that first month seem like years; in fact, I remember on many occasions thinking, “I thought people said this went quickly!” Time moved so slowly, and when the baby was crying I thought I might die with the anguish, and when she wasn’t I thought I might die from the beauty. But mostly I am seeing again how much, despite how little new parents actually know about babies, they actually have every tool they need right there in their overly-full hearts.
Mazel Tov, Oliver!
