We were at a loose end this morning since Moppet had no school, so we decided to go visiting. S and Moppet are in the same group at school and are friends (to the extent that 2-year olds can be friends). Also, S has a 4-month old baby brother, and I thought it would be nice for Moppet to see the baby and play with him a little.
It all started out very nicely. Having been repeatedly told to be on her best behaviour on the way over, Moppet's first words to S when we reached her house were, 'S, no fighting, ok?' It turned out that S's mom had been telling her much the same stuff, so S responded cordially with 'S share Moppet' and started to ply her with all her toys out of her toy trolley.
Things were going extremely well, meaning that we moms were actually able to have a conversation, interrupted only occasionally by an ear-splitting scream, a broken toy, a bumped head, and a disputed balloon.
Then Baby A woke up and joined the party. He is the happiest, cutest little fellow, and I couldn't resist picking him up and giving him a cuddle. Moppet, who had only given him a cursory glance when he was brought out, completely flipped out when I picked him up.
'MY MOPPET MAMA!' she wailed. 'MAMA NO CAWWY BABY! PUT BACK, PUT BACK, PUT BACK!'
I gave Baby A back to his mom in a hurry and Moppet climbed onto my lap and stayed there for about 5 minutes. But S and her toy trolley were hard to ignore for too long and she soon slid off to go back and play.
She did warm to the baby a little later on, when he was lying on the bed, looking around at all of us with bright-eyed curiosity and waving his little fists in the air. Seeing me gently pinch his cheek and call him a cutiepie, Moppet climbed onto the bed to do the same.
'Be gentle, Moppet' I warned, and she was. 'Keetipie' she said, and was rewarded with a gurgle and a smile. I showed her how he would wrap his hand around her finger and she was thrilled. 'Baby hol hand!' she said, with a big grin.
S was watching the proceedings with disapproval and the holding hands bit was more than she could bear. She bounced onto the bed, grabbed Baby A's other hand, and generally indicated that Moppet should refrain from looking at or touching HER baby, or else.
Moppet responded by yanking my t-shirt up, patting my belly and saying, 'This one Moppet baby.' I was floored. I hadn't realised that she understood that much. 'Yes, this one is your baby, Moppet', I said, giving her a happy hug.
But in the taxi on our way home, Moppet sat facing me in my lap with a hand on my tummy and said, 'Baby bwother inside. No baby bwother ouside, ok?'