My sweet little L is almost 22 months old, and so far she is taking after myself in the language development department. I had very few words that I would use properly, until just after my 2nd birthday when I all of a sudden went straight to 3-4 word sentences. L has a few words she uses consistently (and properly) but for the most part she still grunts, groans, points, screams and stomps to get her point across.
It’s for this reason, that when my sweet L decides to use a new word properly, we tend to be a little overly exuberant in our excitement and encouragement.
L got a new word: Pimple.
She got that word, because Mommy currently looks like this:
Right on my forehead, in a spot you just can’t hide. All you can do is hope that nobody points it out.
Here’s the thing…if you have a toddler, it will be pointed out. Literally.
All day, L kept climbing up as high onto my lap as she could get so that she could take one of her grimy little fingers, jam it into the pimple (which hurts, by the way) and then begin the following dialogue.
L (while jamming her finger into my pimple): “That? That!”
Me: “It’s a pimple sweetie. Please don’t. Ouchie. Why don’t you go colour with your crayons?”
5 minutes later…
L (seems to think it’s funny when she makes me wince in pain with a fingernail in the soon to erupt pimple volcano): “That???”
Me: *Sigh* It’s still a pimple, L. Please don’t touch. Ouchie.
Fast forward to tonight. She climbs on to my lap, jabs into the offensive spot AGAIN (remind me that I can’t be lazy and actually have to wash my face this evening), looks at my fiance C and says “Dada… pimple!”.
Frig. As if it didn’t suck enough to have the eye of mordor on my forehead for the world to see, now she has to make sure that her Dada sees it, too.
So what do I do? Do I hide my forehead with my hand and do the walk of shame to the bathroom? Do I quickly try to distract her with a toy? Do I get defensive and yell at my fiance “And what? Like you’ve never had a zit before!?”.
Nope. I say “Yay! That’s right L, good girl. Pimple!”.
Motherhood changes you.
Now I need chocolate, but I fear at this point I’d just be feeding the beast between my eyes…
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