chocolate mama

by humanmama on March 31, 2012

In about a month, my youngest won’t be 2 anymore. She’ll turn three, land of big-girl stuff, where she’ll be easier to understand and less likely to say the things that are so endearing. Actually, she’ll probably say pretty cute stuff for a while. But it’s coming, both girls are moving swiftly to the place where they’ll no longer say things that make me laugh, they’ll say things that make me cry. Or, worse, they won’t talk to me at all. One day they’ll roll their eyes at me. Even more than they do now, I guess.

Helena still says some amazing things. Like when Carpenter and I tried to explain the “Golden Rule” to her the other day. “Helena, have you ever heard about treating others like you want to be treated?” Carpenter mentioned during bathtime. “Yes, that’s called The Golden Rule,” I say, in all motherly wisdom.


“You have? Good. That means treating other people nicely like you want them to treat you nicely, you know.”

“Yeah,” says our child, clearly a trifle disgusted, “but, that’s like, from the 1950’s.”

But being 5 is concrete. Being two is a little more …fantastic. Lilly says some pretty amazing things. Usually she’s very, very loving, so when she’s in a good mood she often comes up to me, throws her arms around me, and says “I lothe you mommy,” which is her lispy-way of saying “I love you,” and then she also hugs my belly and says “I lothe you baby bwother.” It’s pretty cute. When she’s mad at me, she says “I DON’T like you,” and if I pretend to cry, she usually says “Um, but, I lothes you, mommy,” and I smile, and she smiles, and she forgets why she was mad. When you’re two you get mad a lot and it helps to have someone distract you. And hey, I’m not above a little emotional manipulation at this early stage of the game.

She loves dolls and little people and anything that looks like a human, and can spend a lot of time playing with them by herself, which is definitely a second-child skill. She has several dolls, but her two favorites are dolls that we got her (Or was it “Santa?”), whom are definitely Latina or African-American. Sometimes people comment, but we’re happy that she is a little diverse child who loves all skin colors as we do. As all should.

At night, when we’re in her room in the rocking chair reading stories, she likes to recount the details of our day. “And then we ate wunch, and it was good wunch, and peanutbuddder sammitch, and we went outthide, and play, on the play, GROUND!”

There are so many cute things that Carpenter and I just suck them up with a straw, laughing to ourselves, grinning over her head. But then.

This last week, she came up to me, and said something I wasn’t sure about. She was holding her favorite doll, one of the ones who is decidedly not blonde and blue-eyed. One who actually looks more like my girls, dark skin, dark hair, dark eyes. “Mom, you know what my dolly’th name ith?” No, I said, what is your Dolly’s name?

Chocolate Mama. What else can you say?

“Chocolate Mama.”

Yeahhh, I think from now on, we’ll be utilizing the name “baby Molly.” But for now, all I hear are two kids saying “DO YOU KNOW WHERE CHOCOLATE MAMA IS? I THINK CHOCOLATE MAMA IS IN THE CAR. MOM, CAN YOU GET US CHOCOLATE MAMA??”


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{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }

Jill March 31, 2012 at 5:05 pm

Reminds me of my black Cabbage Patch Doll, Mandy…she was the cutest! We also got plenty of looks from people and I took her EVERYWHERE! Similarl to your daughter…I used to tell my mom that she smelled like chocolate. :)


aj April 2, 2012 at 1:17 pm

hee hee…I’m sure all my friends of all ethnicities would like to know that I actually DO smell like white chocolate. :)


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