dajamou

Where's the village?

Saturday, September 23, 2006

Taking things for granted.

The Dajamou is in constant pretend mode. At the drop of a hat, she'll ask me to "Play family," which involves acting out some kind of random family interaction with her baby dolls. When deprived of human playmates, she'll "speak" all of the characters by herself. She makes up stories all the time; sometimes, she'll get so into it that she starts to believe them. Last week, on the way home from a meeting, she was telling me that she has a new set of grandparents she'd never met before, and we had to go to the train station RIGHT NOW so we could take a train, and then get on a sailboat, and then fly on a plane, so that we could meet those new grandparents. She got so into it that she was really upset when I wouldn't take her to the train station. "But Mommy, if they don't see me, my new grandparents will be SO SAD!" She cried most of the way home, and I couldn't decide if I wanted to comfort her or congratulate her.

We had a friend over for a play date the other day, and the subject of pretending came up. The other girl's mom was amazed at how creative the Dajamou can be, and it got me to thinking. Is she really that much more creative than other children? Am I taking her amazing powers of imagination for granted? Am I squandering her talent? Should she be in drama school for toddlers or something?

Then I buried my head in my computer and let her watch TV for 2 hours so I didn't have to deal.

The other thing that she loves to do is make up names. At first everything was Deedia, Hoodia (I'm not kidding), Woopia. Then she started adding syllables. One of my faves was Bonitudo Awatulee Fahsa. (You might have to check with her on the spelling someday. I'm guessing here.) There are signs, however, that this is on the wane. The other day, again in the car, I was waving to another driver who let me onto the highway. This is the conversation that ensued:

"Mommy, who are you waving to?"

"The person who let me into this lane."

"What's his name?"

"I don't know, sweetheart."

"Maybe it's Kayo Teewess Kokaya!"

"It could be."

"Or Kaya!"

"Maybe."

"Or Bag!"

Is this a sign? Have I already missed my window of opportunity to channel her creative energies into a Nobel Prize for Literature?

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