clicking and spark

Otherwise known as two rights, a dumbassery, and a wrong.

Lately on the way to school M screeches my song, my song and as such I play Isobel by Bjork repeatedly, as it is the inspiration for her middle name. Today my lovely girl sang along and knew most of the words. Be still my heart, her twofullness singing Bjork.

Tonight we went out for family night (no, this isn't some long standing tradition, but rather something I made up, er, tonight) and M was screeching (she screeches a lot, yo) Me love family night, me love family night. I love that she loves everything even if it's brand new and fairly undefined. The wide open acceptance, the joyfulness of little things. I learn so much from just being around her.

And later as we were walking through the parking lot of a restaurant hand in hand, I turned and asked her if she wanted to see my sidekick. She said yes, so I reached behind her and lightly tapped her on the butt. She cracked up and turned around and said want to see my sidekick mommy? and then full on shin-kicked me. Hard. So totally my fault, right? But it was hysterical. We were hysterical. We were laughing so hard she did it again while I wasn't looking. Ouch.

But earlier, as I was hanging at M's daycare with her gaggle of friends crowded around in our usual morning routine (which includes multiple hugs and me oohing and ahhing over the content of their backpacks and purses because I have a thing for little girl backpacks and purses, not so much the container but with the things they put in them, and not so much that, but the reasons they chose that broken doll and the old piece of paper and that one sock fascinate me) when a boy I hadn't met before toddled over and as he did M promptly stated me no like him and her friends said me no like him either. Caught off guard as I was, I let them know that I Liked Him and that they were being Completely Uncool.

WTF, ladies? You are TWO. I was disheartened all day that the nastiness could start this early. I told J about it and at our Family Night (ahem, it sounds like a tradition already) we talked to her about it but I have no idea how much it mattered because she was too busy stuffing olives in her face to respond. But it made me sad. Like a emotional kick in the proverbial shin.

Is divisiveness so ingrained in human nature that it can't be helped, even in toddlers?