I worked as a nanny when Tom and I were dating and first married. I took care of three kids: 8, 6, and 2. Their grandma lived across the street and around the corner, and we saw her a lot. I got along with her just fine, but it always grated on my nerves when she referred to the youngest as "the baby," which she did all. the. time.

"Give this to the baby." "How's the baby doing?" "Did the baby have a good time at preschool?"

"He's not a baby!" I would mutter (or just think) to myself. "He is a walking, talking, toddler. NOT a baby."

Well, so little I knew.

I still refer Morty and Ferdie as "the babies" and they are now well over 2.

They walk.

They talk (ish).

They are full fledged toddlers.

BUT, they are my youngest, and therefore, they are still the babies.

And I feel bad for mentally giving that sweet grandmother grief.

1 comment:

Rachael said...

It's funny how we change and understand our elders as we grow. I'm way less hard on my sister now that I also have four kids :)