I sat across the table from a lady tonight with a two year old little girl that was at least two full months older than Isaac, but she acted more like Isaac when he was 12 or 18 months. The mom held her the entire time and had to feed her. We weren’t chatting long when she asked, “How old is he?”
I dread this question when I’m around people with children of similar ages. “Two and a half.”
“So is she. He’s so cute.”
Awkward moment of silence. I hate saying, “so is your child.” Even if they are cute, because it seems like such a cop out.
Isaac continues to interact with the lady’s four-year-old, eats his pizza, talks about the balloons, the letter on his candy, the color of his candy, that he wants water, that he wants to go back and “jumpy, jumpy” and then he walks to the door and yells, “Mommy! I need go potty now.”
We have not been having a good potty time lately. It’s like he has forgotten what the potty is. After he has gone in his pants, he is embarrassed and will deny it. It’s very frustrating to have gone from weeks of practically no accidents to going through all his pants and undies in one day. Needless to say, I was quite surprised he even told me that he needed to go, much less gave us enough time to get to the bathroom.
We return to the party with Isaac singing his ABCs and I sit across from this mom again. “He’s so smart,” she says. And I feel bad. I’m sure she is comparing her daughter to Isaac. And while I enjoy knowing Isaac is advanced, I hate playing the comparison game. Most of who Isaac is is because we are home together ALL the time. I can’t always “play trains,” but we are always talking, singing and having conversations. I ask him a lot of questions. I make him tell me things about his day. I repeat everything he says to me (adding in the words he left out). And he’s in undies because he is not in daycare. I do not think if he was in daycare we’d be near as close to potty “trained” as we are. There are definite benefits to raising your kid yourself, instead of relying on near strangers. But this always makes the conversation with parent Isaac’s age awkward.
As we were saying our goodbyes, the host came up to us and kind of directed her hand towards Isaac, he grabbed it, looked her in the eyes and said very clearly, “Nice to meet you.” He was rewarded with ooos and ahhs. And proceeded to the closest two women to offer his hand and say “nice to meet you.” Such a proud moment. 🙂