Baby Kidling week, day 4

Baby Kidling week.*

Take 4.

Action.

When The Mama was still simply known as “Christine” I was a pretty smart cookie. Not a genius, mind you, but quick-witted, articulate, and loquacious. Okay, fine.  I might still be loquacious, but the wit is slower and, to tell you the truth, I don’t always make a whole lot of sense. My biggest trouble is finding words. If, for instance, you were standing next to me right now and we were having a conversation, it might go a little something like this:

Dear Reader: Hey there, Mama. What are you doing?

The Mama: Hey, Dear Reader. I have no idea how the hell you got into my house, but that’s cool. I’m going to pretend it isn’t absolutely terrifying.

Dear Reader: Um, okay. So, what are you doing?

The Mama: Oh. I’m uh… uh… uh… writing a story.

Dear Reader: Um, okay. It is really early. Could I get a cup of coffee?

The Mama: Of course! Just let me finish up. You go out to the… the… the… kitchen. I’ll be there in a minute.

Dear Reader: (20 minutes pass) Um, Mama? We were going to make coffee.

The Mama: Oh, sorry. I forgot. Just let me finish up. You can sit in the… the… the… chair and wait.

Dear Reader: Um, okay. Do you mind if I take a look at a book?

The Mama: Of course not! They are

(30 seconds pass)

Dear Reader: Um, Mama?

The Mama: Yes? Oh! A book. Sorry. They are over on the… the… the.. bookshelf.

See? It ain’t easy being The Mama. And I think it is even harder to be The (not)Mama, as I can be a bit much to take.

Thankfully, though, I have The Kidling. I’m not talking about love or admiration or worship, though that is clearly the basis of our relationship. I’m talking about assistance. And it all began when she was a wee tot:

December 2009, 23 months old

This was when I first noticed the severity of my linguistic troubles. It became a pattern that Baby Kidling, not yet two years old, would finish my thoughts for me. Whilst looking for a toy, I attempted to help:

“Your rabbit?  I think it’s in you… your… your…”  “House,” Alice offered. “Yes, your house,” The Mama replied gratefully.

And it continues to this day. I think I owe The Kidling 2.5 years of back wages.

______________________________________________

* Don’t know what on Alice’s god’s green earth I am talking about? This should catch you up.

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About The Mamahttp://kidlingville.comProfessional talker, editor, emailer, problem solver, adjunct lecturer, blogger, and mother to the brilliantly absurd Kidling.

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