Mom-mom and other ways to signal defeat
Mazzy is a funny kid. She laughs when it isn't funny. She cries only when you are watching. She has an amazing appetite for life, and by this I mean she puts EVERYThing in her mouth. Every. Thing. No joke.
Another aspect of my daughter that continues to perplex me is her attitude toward Adam and how it differs from her attitude with me. I won't even call them subtle differences, because, frankly, they aren't. Not to me, at any rate. For instance, if Mazzy wants something from me and I am keeping it from her, she just keeps reaching for it. She will babble and yell and grunt and reach, reach, reach for it. When she is dealing with me she is determined and straight-foward. There is no wavering or fear in her eyes. When she wants something from Adam, she will thrust her lower lip out and wait. Seriously. She just gets cute and waits for Adam to give in. That is her strategy. AND IT WORKS. Disgusting.
Something else that I have noticed is that when Mazzy says "DaDa" it is joyful and excited, as though she has waited her whole day just to see him. Her face lights up and she reaches out to him. The other times she says DaDa is when she is playing and it is the best playtime EVER and she squeals his name. So, I can conclude that DaDa is joy. DaDa is fun and safe and pretty much the best thing since a warm boobie.
She says Mom-mom differently. When she calls for me, it is always at the height of her frustration. If she is having trouble dragging her blanket from between the crib bars, or she can't reach the last puff on her tray, she calls out Mom-mom with such anguish. I have to fix it. I am compelled to swoop in and save the day. I would worry that I am holding her back or keeping her from learning to do things on her own, but my kid is fierce. She WANTS to do it by herself. Mazzy only asks for help when there are no other options in her nine month old brain. There is a certain amount of shame in her voice, if such a thing is possible, when she calls for me. Because I don't want her to be ashamed to ask for help, I try and play it cool. I show her how to do it for the next time and give her a respectable kiss on the top of her head. I think I am doing it right because she will smile up at me like, "Dude. You totally saved my rep."
I hope that sometime in the future I won't just be the last resort. Mom-mom won't be laced with the sound of defeat and pain. I will be relief and love and more than just the lady who rescues the blanket.
Another aspect of my daughter that continues to perplex me is her attitude toward Adam and how it differs from her attitude with me. I won't even call them subtle differences, because, frankly, they aren't. Not to me, at any rate. For instance, if Mazzy wants something from me and I am keeping it from her, she just keeps reaching for it. She will babble and yell and grunt and reach, reach, reach for it. When she is dealing with me she is determined and straight-foward. There is no wavering or fear in her eyes. When she wants something from Adam, she will thrust her lower lip out and wait. Seriously. She just gets cute and waits for Adam to give in. That is her strategy. AND IT WORKS. Disgusting.
Something else that I have noticed is that when Mazzy says "DaDa" it is joyful and excited, as though she has waited her whole day just to see him. Her face lights up and she reaches out to him. The other times she says DaDa is when she is playing and it is the best playtime EVER and she squeals his name. So, I can conclude that DaDa is joy. DaDa is fun and safe and pretty much the best thing since a warm boobie.
She says Mom-mom differently. When she calls for me, it is always at the height of her frustration. If she is having trouble dragging her blanket from between the crib bars, or she can't reach the last puff on her tray, she calls out Mom-mom with such anguish. I have to fix it. I am compelled to swoop in and save the day. I would worry that I am holding her back or keeping her from learning to do things on her own, but my kid is fierce. She WANTS to do it by herself. Mazzy only asks for help when there are no other options in her nine month old brain. There is a certain amount of shame in her voice, if such a thing is possible, when she calls for me. Because I don't want her to be ashamed to ask for help, I try and play it cool. I show her how to do it for the next time and give her a respectable kiss on the top of her head. I think I am doing it right because she will smile up at me like, "Dude. You totally saved my rep."
I hope that sometime in the future I won't just be the last resort. Mom-mom won't be laced with the sound of defeat and pain. I will be relief and love and more than just the lady who rescues the blanket.
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I know because I am one.