Doodaddy

I love to dig for bugs with Boobaby, but I’ve never found a snail for her. And when I show her bugs, unless I’m very careful, Boobaby crushes them.

Friday, our new (and first, and only) babysitter overcame both those obstacles. And I felt the sort of pang that Working Mom must feel all the time: my daughter learned something — with someone else — while I wasn’t there.

I know this happens to everyone, and I’m lucky I get to spend so much time with Boo. Even more, I’m really proud of how well Boo directs the sitter. I’m so used to interpreting Boo’s interests that I predict a little bit: I’ll see the monkeybar gleam in her eyes and immediately pick her up, no words exchanged.

With sitters, though, no such nonverbal communication is possible, so Boo has to use her tiny little vocabulary and huge honkin’ willpower to get the idea across.

“This!” she’ll say, waving wildly across the playground. “This!”

Which, of course, means “It’s time to go down the big slide now” to me, but the sitter doesn’t quite know that yet. So Boo has to resort to other means–dragging, pointing, circumlocution, telepathy–to entice the sitter to get a-slidin’. And, eventually, she does: Boo really can connect with people while I’m not around. Amazing

I just wish I could be there to see it. But that would spoil the whole thing — she’d just make use of me as her interpreter. So I have to let her do it on her own. I love somebody, and I set her free.

Until, at least, they invent a tiny, tiny webcam that I can hide on her. That will be cool.