I can't wait for my little girl to start daycare - not because I'll be dancing around my living room with my hands in the air singing "Freedom! Freedom at last!" Not even one bit.
Ok, maybe a little freedom dance.
Actually, I can't wait for my daughter to have the opportunity to play with other kids her age. I cannot wait to see what skills she'll pick up. Though I'm hoping she'll at least be walking by the time she begins daycare. If not, I'm sure she will be soon after.
The point is, kids will learn from other kids. This weekend, we were at my aunt and uncle's house. My cousin was there, along with her husband and four-year-old daughter. My little girl played with their little girl the entire weekend, and by sunday, my baby stood on her own for the first time, for a full 4 seconds! She had been holding on to a small table, when she suddenly, and very much on purpose, let go! She teetered a bit, trying to find her balance, and just stood there, thinking nothing of it, while her mum watched, mouth agape and unable to move with shock. When my daughter put one hand back on the little table, I allowed the excitement I had withheld to burst out of me in the form of cheers and a profuse clapping of hands that got the little achiever rather confused. "Why is mommy so happy?" she must have been wondering as I picked her up in my arms and kissed her cheek several times.
I have not a doubt that this feat was accomplished simply because she had been watching a slightly taller child walk and dance around her.
Speaking of my little cousin, I would like to share a few of the stories I have picked up relating to her this weekend; some of these moments struck me as particularly surprising or amusing. As my only child is not yet four, I have no idea if some of the stories I have to tell will strike more experienced parents as typical of this particular age. I know that, to me, my little cousin appeared surprisingly old for her years.
First I must mention that I have a difficulty understanding most four-year-olds. I have had very short conversations even with six-year-olds that consisted of unintelligle babble followed by an awkward "I'm sorry, I can't understand what you're saying" (this comment is always received with an indigant look on the part of the child). But my little cousin's words are as clear as day (pardon the cliché - I usually hate these, and only use them in the case of an emergency). She spoke so well, that I actually offered to let her read a story to my daughter. "That is ... can you read?" I asked uncomfortably, realizing my mistake. Of course she can't read. She's four. Actually, her mum assured me, she has been starting to sound words out. "Oh, of course. Well, she can sit with us and I'll read to them."
On our first evening, I stepped out to the balcony to join my cousins outside. I found my little cousin in the middle of quoting Harry Potter, in a very Hermione-esque voice. And in her very best Brittish accent.
"Wow, that's very good," I said. Then added, very honestly, "I've always wanted to be able to do that." I tried to speak to her in my best Brittish accent which, honestly, couldn't hold a candle to her perfect imitation of Hermione, Harry and Ron.
Later, after she had watched me change my daughter's diaper, she pointed to a picture of elephants on the bathroom wall and said how much she loved it. "And what are those?" I asked, suddenly and stupidly thinking I was talking to someone younger. "They're elephants," she told me, eyebrows raised in a I-can't-believe-you-just-asked-me-that look. "I am four, you know."
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