Kaia is speaking in longer, fuller sentences each day. I’m sure a lot of the influence is from school where she hears interactions between teachers and administrators all the time. She also hears us interact at home and likes to mimic us. 

One thing she’s been doing when she’s having breakfast on weekday mornings is yell out for me when I’m coming in through the door, back from my workout at the gym. “Hi, Mummy-Dear!” she will call out before she even sees me. “Did you have a good gym?” 

It’s really cute. Sometimes, she will ask, “Did you have a good day?” at the end of the day when she sees me. And because she knows I am at the gym when she’s waking up and eating breakfast since Chris tells her, she will incorrectly ask if I had a good “gym.” We should probably teach her to say “workout” instead of “gym,” but I can’t help but smile and gush over how adorable this incorrect speech is. It’s like how now that she’s over 2, I still miss the days when she would say “bluey” for blueberry or “mangi” for mango. The speech mistakes are part of the growth, and while I’m happy she learns the correct form of speech, I still reminisce on the incorrect times. 

Yesterday when reviewing the daily report from school, Chris noticed that there was an “incident” report recorded with a photo of Kaia’s back, noting that Kaia had been injured by a classmate. There was a typo in the report, so I wasn’t sure exactly what happened until I spoke with the teacher at drop off this morning. The teacher let me know that Kaia and a classmate were fighting over the same toy, and Kaia had an iron grip on it. The other child retaliated by biting her in the middle of her back, which resulted in Kaia crying and having a lingering red mark on her back.

“Kaia cried, and I felt so terrible because she never cries!” the teacher said to me, with a frown on her face.

I didn’t realize it was a bite from the original report because of the typo. But I did notice the mark when I gave her a bath. The bite was the size of a large strawberry, and it seemed weird that it would have been so dark and red. At first, I wondered what toy would have left such a mark. Now that I found out it was a bite from another child, the mark made much more sense.

At this age, kids don’t always understand what you are trying to say to them, and you definitely do not always understand them. They’re still learning what is considered “appropriate” vs “inappropriate” behavior with family, friends, and classmates, and so it’s hard to fault them when things like this happen. I shrugged it off and told the teacher I wasn’t that concerned. Toddlers will be toddlers. She said she felt relieved after I said this.

“Not all parents let these things go,” she said with a sigh. “They ask us how we couldn’t have prevented it from happening!”

With babies and toddlers, things like this happen in just seconds, and you can’t be everywhere all at once. Taking care of littles can be very all-encompassing and exhausting. We just have to let these things go and move on.

Babies and toddlers are true human sponges. They are always soaking up and in every single thing around them all the time, whether we are cognizant of it or not. Because I have a very loving (facetious) husband, most of the time when we part and I am leaving the apartment, he will hug or kiss me and say, “don’t get lost!” Kaia has clearly noticed this. So this morning, when I was getting ready to go to the gym as Chris was getting her out the door to go to school, she ran to me to give me a goodbye hug and kiss, and after she looked at me square in the eyes, smiled, and said, “don’t get lost, mummy dear!”

While getting her ready, she will notice that one of us is not wearing a coat or shoes, so she will remind us: “Shoes on, Daddy-ma!” or “Put your jacket on, Mummy dear!” Sometimes, she will even giggle and say, “Mommy dear, guai guai ah!” (in other words, loosely translated as “you be good/you be well-behaved!”

For better or for worse, she is learning most of these things from her own parents. Every time something new like this happens, I can’t help but crack up and just want to squeeze her close. It’s too adorable and sweet, even if it can be a little annoying at times.

This afternoon, we took Kaia to the playground where her school class usually goes to when the weather is nice outside. Chris messaged a classmate’s dad to see if they wanted to join us, and when they came, Kaia’s school friend Jacob was on his scooter. Although I had thought about getting Kaia a scooter close to her second birthday, I wasn’t 100% sure she would like it, as she didn’t really seem that interested in anything like that (she mainly seems obsessed with her books — since she was a baby, I always thought she seemed more brainy than athletic, but hey, I could be proven wrong). It’s clear, though, that the peer pressure of her classmates has worked in a positive way with a lot of things she has been hesitant or scared to do, such as getting on a play structure at the playground, or even the slide. The slide took a lot of coaxing; she would only go on them with us if we went with her or pushed her down. It was clear from her facial expression she enjoyed it, but a small inner fear prevented her from going down on her own. Now that she is exposed to her classmates doing it, she’s much more into the slides than before. And it seems this is the same case with the scooter.

Prior to this impromptu play date, I wasn’t sure if a scooter would be a good toy/device for her. But as she fought with Jacob over the scooter and even went on it a few times (and did the proper foot and pushing movements, Chris and I were pretty quickly convinced that she should probably have one, too (along with a helmet, because of course, safety first). So Chris said he would do some research on the right one for her and get her one, along with a helmet. He especially felt firmly about this after he saw Kaia have a meltdown when Jacob went off and sped away on the scooter, leaving her scooter-less. We had never witnessed her crying over a toy in her entire life before, so this was a new experience for us. Chris had to go comfort her and hold her for a bit, when they came to the conclusion/decision that Pookster wanted a red scooter for herself. Okay, well, if she wants a red scooter… I guess she’s getting a red scooter!

Since our last trip to Australia, Kaia has definitely indicated an interest in wanting to interact with Amazon Alexa (at our home) and with Google Home (Chris’s parents’ device at their house). In Melbourne, she successfully got Google to recognize when she would yell out “Google,” but her command after that was always so muddled that it wouldn’t recognize what she was saying. But she’s gotten better at enunciating her words more clearly, and she’s also gotten more detailed with her asks, whether it’s to a device or to us. Instead of saying “I want plate,” now she says, “I want my blue plate.” Instead of previously saying, “Play ‘Wheels on the Bus,'” now, she says, “Play ‘Wheels on the Bus’ by Mr. Ray (or Coco Melon).” This weekend, she successfully summoned Alexa two times: the first time was when she heard me ask about the weather, and she repeated me and said, “Alexa! What’s the weather today?” Alexa actually responded back with today’s weather report! And then a few minutes later, she yelled out, “Alexa! Play ‘Wheels on the Bus’ by Mr. Ray!” And Alexa obeyed and did it! Kaia’s reached a new toddler milestone in a day and age of voice-activated, AI powered devices! No one would have thought this was a big deal previously, but this does actually mean something: it means Kaia’s speech has become clearer and is understandable to the average person instead of just those who know her. My sweet baby is growing into a tiny human who can have a pseudo relationship with a device now!

The other day, I was changing Kaia’s diaper at our changing station, and she was being extremely unruly. It’s clear that she hates having her diaper changed now, and she’s increasingly becoming more self conscious of wearing a diaper as well as her poops. She was moving around precariously and squirming everywhere, which wasn’t fun for me considering it was a huge poop diaper. She ended up smearing poop on the changing pad cover and all over her legs; this was not fun for me. She flipped herself over, butt in the air, and just lay there, staring up at me as though she was just a little angel. I looked at her sternly, then tapped my finger on her back firmly.

“That is very naughty, Pookster,” I said to her.

Kaia looked up at me with a serious face. “Don’t hit me!” she exclaimed, turning away from me. “Don’t do that… AGAIN!”

Wait, what? Did she seriously just say that I HIT her? I tapped her back, and she thinks I actually hit her…? My child thinks that I hit her….!!!!

And then it occurred to me that this was probably language the teachers use at school when the kids get chaotic and start hitting each other. And Kaia was just parroting her teachers. But it still didn’t make me feel good. What if one day, she randomly decides to tell a teacher at school that “mommy hit me,” and then they call Child Protective Services on us, and someone has to come “observe” us at home? Talk about a nightmare waiting to happen!

The Atlantic recently published an article entitled, “Why We Long for the Most Difficult Days of Parenthood.” It’s about how parents of older children always tell parents of younger children to cherish every second because time will pass all too quickly. Your child is born. You blink. And suddenly, they are off to college or starting their very first job. Everything in between very quickly becomes a memory in the back of your mind. While all this is true, every parent can attest to the fact that the first few years of their child’s life tends to be the hardest; you are caring for a tiny human who is 100 percent helpless and thus 100 percent dependent on you, so you don’t get much time to yourself. And so these parents of older children reminisce on those tough times, those sweet times, and say they wished they had cherished those moments more.

I can relate to this a lot. Parenting a young one is no joke, especially when you’re exclusively pumping in the first year or so. Even towards the end of my pumping journey, right before bed, instead of reading or listening to podcasts, I would sometimes just watch videos spanning the previous year, when Kaia was just a newborn, a babbling baby, a crawling baby, and eventually a pulling-up-and-cruising-along-furniture baby-becoming-a-toddler. I would marvel at Kaia’s chunky little face, made fat from all the breast milk I pumped, and her chunky arms and legs that I always said I wanted to eat. I would tear up when I’d hear her first babbles and giggles or when I’d relive her first smiles and stuck-out tongues. I partly took so many videos because my friend said exactly this, that she wished she had taken more videos to just record the SOUNDS her kids made as babies because she missed the sweetness and cuteness of it so much. Even now, as Pookster is learning new skills and saying new words every single day, while I love it, part of me is a little sad that my baby is growing so fast, almost too fast. I just want to bottle her up, cup her face in my hands, and pause this moment to enjoy her in her sweet (yet rebellious) toddler phase of life.

The other morning, I coughed and ran into the other room to grab a tissue while she was eating breakfast in her high chair. As I blew my nose in the other room, I heard Kaia yell, “Are you okay, mummy-dear?” I came back into her view and smiled at her.

“Yes, mummy is okay,” I assured her. “Mummy just had to blow her nose, but I’m back now!”

I just dissolve into a puddle when she expresses love and concern. I just want to squeeze her nonstop in these moments. My baby is slowly but surely learning empathy. She’s also been especially affectionate this week, constantly asking Chris and me for hugs and kisses. She’s also repeatedly asking for kisses and hugs at bedtime, which I’m obsessed with.

I am not able to capture every single moment in photo or video, as it would be nearly impossible considering how quickly they all happen. But to fill in the gaps, I am writing about these moments in this blog so that I can document her development in a written manner to revisit them one day, and to one day have her revisit them from my perspective, as well.

About a month before we left for Australia late last year, Kaia randomly came home from school one day constantly calling me “mama-ji.” She continued to say this while we were in Australia, which cracked up Chris’s mom because “ji” is usually added to the end of a name as a sign of respect in India. It’s why you oftentimes hear people say “baba-ji” in India. And since coming back from our trip, she stopped saying “mama-ji,” but now it has evolved into “mummy dear” or what occasionally sounds like “mummy-daah!” For Chris, she greets him by saying “Daddy-ma! Daddy-ma!” “Daddy” now always ends with a “ma.” We’re not sure if one of the books they are reading in class is doing this or if she heard another one of her classmates call their parents by these terms or similar ones, but we’d assume so since we definitely do not hear these things in what we expose her to.

It’s been really cute to see how the way she addresses us has evolved. What I hope will never happen, though, is that she won’t start calling me or addressing me as “Mother.” That would annoy me to no end. It already sounds annoying to me when Chris refers to his own mom as “mother.” It feels very cold, formal, almost borderline hostile, as though you don’t feel any warmth or endearment towards your parent if you have to refer to them so formally as though you just took the dictionary term for them and slapped it on.