Someday she'll make a great Jewish mother

Josie is going through a massive language explosion all of a sudden.  It's been building slowly for a while -- she's been picking up new words and figuring out how to use them -- but in the past week or so she has been putting sentences together and really expressing herself. 

It's so awesome.  One of the most amazing things about living with the short people (TM Elizabeth) is watching their language acquisition, both because it is fascinating to see it in action and also because when kids start to talk, that's when they get exponentially more fun and interesting (in my opinion). 

This huge change has coincided with Josie's move from the Twinkles class to the Little Dippers* class -- she is now with kids who are talking more than the kids she had been with, and the curriculum is more advanced and language-based.  And she's doing great -- every day when we pick her up, all we get are reports about how engaged she is and how much fun she has.

But -- and again, this is not unexpected or atypical -- she's still struggling with the transition.  She was with the Twinkles for a year and the teachers were wonderful and warm and cuddly and sweet, and by the end of her time there, she was unquestionably the queen bee, so it was a hard place to leave. 

And she obviously thinks about it a LOT.  Because yesterday, as we were heading downstairs to do something, she said to me, "Mama, I don't want Dipper.  I not Dipper."

"Really, honey?"

"Mm-hmmm.  I not Dipper."

"What are you, then?"

"I go Twinkle.  I a Twinkle."

"Oh.  Well, that's interesting."  I refused to confirm her view of the world, but it also did not strike me as worthy of an argument, so I was non-commital.

"I not a Dipper, Mama.  I a Twinkle.  Okay?  Okay??"

"Hmmmm.  Well, we'll see, baby.  We don't have to worry about it right now."

She wasn't assuaged.

"Mama!  I not Dipper.  I go Dipper and I cry.  Okay?  I cry!"

This seriously went on for the next hour.  She was determined to have her point heard, particularly the part about the crying.

It started again when we pulled up at the school when I was dropping the kids off.  I got Josie out of her car seat and was carrying her into the building when she reminded me, "I not a Dipper, Mama."

And when we turned to go into the Dipper room, she lost her shit.  Her whole face crumbled and she buried it in her hands.  "Nooo!  No Dippers!  Noooooo!"

She did indeed cry, just as she promised.

I gave her a big hug and a kiss and assured her that she would be fine.  Her teacher, Miss Jessica (who is great), took her and did the same.  Zeke and I left and went to his classroom to deposit him for the day.

By the time I came out of Zeke's room 5 minutes later, Josie had stopped crying.  Because after all, if I wasn't there to witness it, what was the point?

The girl's got a great future in piling on the guilt.
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*Her school is called "Bright Star," and the different classrooms all have star-related names.  The Twinkles are the 1-year-olds, the Little Dippers are the 2-year-olds and the Cosmos (where Zeke is) are the 3-5 year olds.