As is the prerogative of the toddler, Marcel is learning to express contrarian opinions. She does it in interesting ways.
Lately, she’s been saying “I can’t”. Of course, this raises all kinds of concerns for a parent. Is she defeatist? Have I failed to effectively teach her the benefits of hard work and effort? Did she learn those dreaded words from me and my defeatist attitude? Fortunately, in our case, those questions are quickly dispelled.
Marcel doesn’t always use words to convey their definition. Sometimes, Marcel uses words like they are talismans. She uses them like one would use “abracadabra”, like magic words that mean nothing in and of themselves but are capable of mysteriously bringing about a desired result.
For instance, Marcel realized that the words “too small” would magically get her out of undesirable clothes. Clearly, she learned this because my wife or I would take clothes off of her after saying the magic words, “Oh, that’s too small.” Neither of us ever stopped to explain the concept of size to her. In fact, when we commented on the undesirable size of the clothes, we probably we’re talking to ourselves and ignoring Marcel, and what her view on the clothes might be, altogether.
But she wasn’t ignoring us. She was watching and learning and figuring out that the words “too small” would get you undressed. And thus, to this day, Marcel invokes the magic words “too small” any time that she doesn’t want to stop what she’s doing–watching TV, perhaps–to get dressed.
The first time Marcel used magic words was to get out of diaper changing.
Marcel can sit in a dirty diaper all day. That, and her penchant for liking to push our buttons, can make the process of changing Marcel’s diaper an adventure. One of the things she likes to do is jump when you’re changing her diaper, no matter how much poop.
The first time–well, the first few weeks–I didn’t realize that she was playing. I feared that, in my unfamiliarity with cleaning a girl’s bottom, that I might have been making mistakes. I feared that I might have been causing my little girl pain. So I often asked, “Did I hurt you?”
Marcel picked up on my hesitancy right away. Before long, whenever I tried to change her, she’d exclaim, “I hurt!“, giggling the whole while. Unfortunately for me, it took me awhile–and some pestering my wife with questions and even a trip to the pediatrician–before I caught on.
But caught on I did, just in time for the “I can’t”s. By the time of the “I can’t”s, I had realized that this wasn’t evidence of Marcel defeatist attitude, but of her triumphant spirit. In Marcel’s lingo, “I can’t” isn’t a surrender, but a successful strategy. For Marcel, it’s magic.
