Thursday, October 09, 2008

Like mother, like daughter

Gretchen doesn't like secrets. At all. About anything. So if, say, I realize I've left something in the car and go out to get it, I barely have the door open before she asks "where are you going?" It's not a suspicious thing--at least I don't think so--she just CAN'T STAND not knowing what's going on around her. (To this day I still can't believe I managed to pull off surprising her when we got engaged.)

So there's a certain amount of poetic justice in Mädchen being exactly the same. Neither of us can do anything without her having to know what's going on. Gretchen gets up from the dinner table to get a glass of water: "where you going, Mommy?" I pick up a book or newspaper: "what you doing, Daddy?" We see a dog walking in the distance: "what his name?" She sees something new: "what's that?" She sees something she sees multiple times a day: "what's that?" You tell her what it is: "what's that?" You repeat it: "what's that?" The other day she evidently asked Gretchen "what your eyebrows doing, Mommy?" She's only two years, three months old and she's almost to the "why?" stage that every kid goes through. Heaven help us.

People who don't know her well would never guess she's this way because she's pretty shy around people she doesn't know well, but around the house and with close friends SHE NEVER EVER STOPS TALKING unless she's watching Blue's Clues or Backyardigans (and even then she sometimes keeps up a running dialogue with the show). And as much as we love her for it and are dazzled by her verbal skills at such a young age, I just have to laugh because I know it drives Gretchen crazy by the end of the day, and I can also imagine Gretchen put her Mom through the same thing when she was Mädchen's age. Yep, poetic justice...