by Colleen Lowe Smith
I know that children, especially toddlers, are literal, but it still catches me by surprise sometimes. Cassidy and I were reading a book the other night: “… and the cat jumped out of his skin!”
“Mommy.” Cassidy says. “Where his skin?”
We started Montessori toddler class together, which is a whole other story. I’d been a Montessori pre-school teacher for twelve years and the toddler curriculum is familiar to me, and though there are challenges as mommy/teacher I will expound on another time, there are also surprises. We don’t have an easel at home, so the offering of paint on an easel is something Cassidy went right for. The chunky toddler brush is something I’d never seen; something that looks like a bigger, stiffer version of the extra blusher brush I had laying around that Cassidy discovered and covets as her own “make up.” During our second day of school I turned away to work with another child and when I turned back, Cassidy had painted her face purple. Well, why not? That’s what blusher brushes are for, right?
Today we were at the grocery store, cruising the aisles, Cassidy chanting “Yes! Yes! Yes yes yes! Yes! Yes. Yes yes yes! A Trader Joe employee walks by us, smiling. “What an affirmation of life! Yes!” Until then I wasn’t quite taking in the cuteness of the moment. Cassidy is always singing or chanting something. But I started laughing. “Cassidy,” I said, “You crack me up!”
Cassidy stopped for awhile and then said “Mommy. I sorry.”
“What are you sorry about, bug?”
“You said I crack you up. Sorry, Mommy.”
What could I do? I cracked up. And tried to explain myself. Again.