For the first several months of L’s life, K and I could be fairly sure that everything she knew was something we’d taught her, directly or indirectly. Sometimes she would imitate us with prompting, sometimes without. There were few moments that prompted comments of “Where’d she get that?” and the like.
When she started spending time with other kids and adults at daycare, the gradual shift began. Slowly she picked up as much at daycare as at home; then, daycare overtook us.
Now she comes home with songs we’ve never heard:
Twinkle, twinkle traffic light…
Red means stop
Green means go
Yellow means very, very slow
She comes home with skills we haven’t touched on: tracing numbers and letters is the most recent.
These things come from the teacher, who told K this morning during the first of many parent-teacher conferences, that L is a “good old-fashioned girl” with good manners and a strong sense of right and wrong.
Other things come from friends. Brooke taught her how to swing by herself.
She’s growing more and more independent.
Now, she knows she can get her information from other sources, that she’s not dependent on us mentally any more than she is physically.
Which, in reality, is still quite comforting: still many years to go. It comes in mercifully slow steps.