Commuter Mom: Cocktail Hour

It warms my heart and makes me laugh that Commuter Girl is a miniature version of Commuter Dad and me. I have to hide my amusement when she yells at the dog, and pretend not notice when she walks with her hand on her hip (which I never realized I did until I tried to figure out where Commuter Girl picked it up). I love seeing her sooth her dolls the same way I soothe her. And, I crack up when she picks up her cup with a handle and says “this is my coffee.” Last week I was asking Commuter Girl to get dressed. She, as is common, wasn’t listening so I asked again. Then, she looked at me and said, “Don’t talk to me like that. That’s rude.” That is exactly what I would have said to her had she spoken to me like that.

I can handle all of those things. The funny comments and gestures, the differences in what is OK for Mommy and what is OK for little girls. But, now she pretends to drink wine. She pours the “wine” from her teapot into a little plastic cup in her play kitchen and then offers it around. The other night she even came over to me, called me by my first name and offered me a glass of wine. It was really funny at the time, but what has me really worried is that at school the other day she offered her teacher a glass of wine! I guess what happens at home doesn’t stay at home.