Never Ever Serve Worms

The beginning of the end was the day I heard “yellow.” No more “weh-woh.” I took that one hard, but it wasn't a devistating blow. Half Pint was still my baby. “L” wasn’t the end; I still had “R.”

“R.” One more sound before I'd have to admit that my baby was not only not a baby, but not a toddler either; she’d be a little girl. I still had “vewy” and “Pawkaw” and “Mistuh Buhkhawt.” I could hear these “wuhds” and know my baby was still my baby.

Sure, I’m a good Mom. I periodically tried to correct her pronunciation, to get her to contort her tiny mouth into the correct position for that difficult “R” sound. But if it didn’t happen, I didn’t push – a good Mom wouldn’t. Don’t want to mess with her self-esteem. But, secretly, I was glad she hadn’t yet gotten it. It was endearing. What’s the hurry anyway?

And then today. Today, with a simple conversation about which direction we were driving, it all ended.

“Which way aw we dwiving, Mommy?”

“We’re going north, sweetie,” I answer.

“What’s nawth mean?”

Her Daddy explains, complete with a detailed drawing on her magnadoodle. He explains how a compass works. She spins here diagram as we twist and turn down the country highway, shouting out our new direction like a navigational pro! He then proceeds to share with her his mnemonic device for remembering the order of the four directions. “Never ever serve worms.”

She repeats it. “Never ever serve worms.”

GASP!

She was supposed to say, “Nevuh evuh suhv wuhms!” That’s what my baby would say! But this little girl spat out a very distinct, “Neverrr – everrr – serrrve - worrrms.”

Where did that come from?!? No coaching. No correcting. No second or third try. It just popped out, as if she’d been able to say a proper “R” for years! I react. I cheer. I brag. I smile at her in the rearview mirror. I do what a good Mom should do.

But Rob saw, from his seat beside me, the shock. Shock at her wonderful accomplishment. But also shock at the loss of this endearing quality. Shock at the physical proof of her growing up. Shock that my baby is no longer a baby. Shocked that my baby is gwowing up.