It’s some sort of developement stage, I’m sure. The age of toilet talk.
Sometimes I can ignore it in my child. And sometimes at the end of the day I am tired of hearing about poop and toilets and bottoms.
So round about bath-n-bedtime, I hear her tell me she is going to poop in my ear and I’m over it.
“That’s gross! Listen to you potty talking.”
She’s sensitive lately, and her response to disapproval of any kind is strict: “Do you still love me?”
Of course I love her. I’ve told her that at other times when she asks. This time is different though.
As if I have already confirmed her fear, as if I already removed my love from her, she says indignantly, “You told me! You said you would always love me no matter what!”
I have told her this, so many many times. She remembered my promise, and is holding me to it.
My daughter is being exquisitely human before my eyes.
She is afraid that her wrong-doing will separate her from my love. That some imperfection in her will break it.
But she remembered my promise.
She remembered. And she fought against this rejection she assumed.
Her fear of abandonment had an answer from inside her.
Of course, I had to go on and explain that even though I would always and forever love her no matter what, I still wished she would not use potty talk. Not easy.