Monday, May 6, 2013

No, I'm Daddy

I try, for a moment, to put myself in the mind of my children as they attempt to learn this complex form of communication we call English.  We think it so easy - some of us - as we've been spouting verbal vomit for decades with out a second thought - though some of us should really reconsider how much we talk.  But here are these newbies who have the same volume of thought rushing through their rapidly developing brains and yet they can't quite connect the dots to turn that thought into a communication to the world around them.  It must be frustrating.  I patiently listen as Genevieve gets choked up on a particular word "Daddy, I; Daddy; Daddy I; Daddy; Daddy; I; Daddy I forgot."  Or Arianna stumbles through a multi syllable word with all the grace of an ice skater in bowling shoes.  But they're in a much better place.  At least they've mastered the basics.  They can tell you a host of things. ... sometimes in ridiculously unnecessary specifics.  Don't ask about the movie Brave. ... you'll be cornered for an hour and a half listening to in depth arguments over why little girls should not turn their mothers into bears.  Riveting.  But then there's Rosaline.  She's been verbally restricted for a year and a half and she's finally breaking through the damn and attempting to speak to the world around her.  But, like a new born fawn, she's shaky and prone to misstep.  Her particular difficulty, at least the one that most concerns me, is in remembering my name.  I'll be enwrapped in some other task and I'll feel a slight tug on my pants "Momma, galla!"  "I'm Daddy", I'll respond.  "Momma?"  "No. ... Daddy."  Sometimes I feel like I"m arguing with a squirrel.  Standing over her, hands on my hips "I'm Daddy."  To which she stares up at me blankly, big doe eyes in a confused peak.  "Momma?"  "No, I'm still Daddy."  She could care less, as long as she's got my attention my name is pointless.  "Galla?"  Fine.   Two minutes later, "Momma, coco?"  I'm Daddy!  If you want the cookie it would serve you well to get my name right."  "Coco?"  [sigh] "Fine!  I'm envisioning a problem through the remainder of our relationship.  She'll go through elementary school with "two moms".  Her future dates will have to meet her Mom first before they can go out.  Her Mom will walk her down the aisle at her wedding and we'll dance the Mother/Daughter dance as I pass her off to her new spouse.  We'll have Mother's Day in May and then again in June. The only question left is when she has children of her own will I be a Gammie, a Grandma or - going with the Greeks - a Yiayia. ... oh the choices I have before me.

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