On our drive home from daycare each day, Clementine likes to go on a puppy safari, peeking out her window to spot people walking their dogs. “Puppy!” she’ll cry with glee before fixing her eyes on me to demand “More. More puppy,” as if I have the power to make them appear in front of us at will. She is equally excited at spotting a bike (she prefers the Spanish “bici” (bee-cee)), but puppies are really her thing. Lately she’s been eager to figure out how these puppies relate to the people walking them, and putting it in the only terms she has, she’ll now point to the walker and say “Puppy Mama” or “Puppy Dada,” happy to have figured things out.
You see where this is leading, right? Since she will still not refer to herself as anything other than Baby, she now recognizes me as “Baby Mama,” and Nate as “Baby Dada.” Her language has evolved to that of a rapper! While it’s true that she doesn’t use these names exclusively (she is far too eager to use Amanda and Nate now that she has figured out everyone has at least two names they’ll answer to), I love it when we’re in public and she loudly recites our relationships to one another: baby, baby mama, baby dada. I especially love it when she points a finger in some other family’s direction, squints her eyes a little and shouts “Baby Mama! Baby Mama!” That’s just us keepin’ it real.
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