The Toddler Mind, on Rewind

I don’t know if all toddlers go through a phase like this, but one of the most striking things about 21-month-old Julia these days is her pattern of endlessly recounting any kind of experience that was, to her, especially dramatic. But given her age and (relative) limitations of speech, she does this through primarily one-word comments, expecting us to fill in the rest of the story. And know this: we are REQUIRED to fill in the rest of the story. It’s as if she has to process the event over and over before she can mentally put it aside.

For Julia, examples of these kind of events, which she talks about several times a week, include: falling down a few steps while walking downstairs with me after getting dressed up for our housewarming party (in JANUARY, mind you—two months ago); unexpectedly meeting up with Daddy on a stroller walk outside, during which we were watching for birds and sharing a white-cheddar rice cake, which Julia had never tasted before and which made a very big impression; and being awakened from a nap the other day by the frightening sound of our townhouse association’s contracted snowplow truck clearing our driveway, directly underneath her window.

So, for example, if you were a fly on a wall in our house these days, you might overhear the following conversation:

Julia [while descending the stairs holding onto my hand]: Jump-jump!
Me: Oh, honey, you can only jump when you get to the very bottom, so you don’t fall.
J.: [makes fake baby-crying sound]
Me: Yes, honey, you cried when you fell down the stairs.
J.: [excitedly, with wide eyes, patting her torso] Dess!
Me: Yes, you were wearing your pink dress.
J.: Mimi! [our cat, Beanie, who passed her on the stairs as she fell]
Me: Yes, Mimi was there.
J.: Duddo!
Me: Yes, you needed some cuddles to feel better.
J.: Mama!
Me: Mama was there and gave you cuddles.
J.: Daddy!
Me: Daddy was there too.
J.: People!
Me: People were coming over for the party.
J.: Dess!
Me: Yes, you had on your pink dress.
J.: Mimi!
Me: Yes, Mimi was there.
J.: Mama!
Me: Mama gave you cuddles.
etc. etc. etc……

Or, you might hear the following:

Julia: Wice cake! Hout-hide!
Me: Yes, honey, we walked outside, eating a rice cake.
J.: Birdies!
Me: Yes, we were looking for birdies.
J.: Dee!
Me: In the trees.
J.: Daddy!
Me: And then Daddy showed up and surprised us!
J.: West!
Me: And he was wearing a vest!
J.: Geen!
Me: And it was green!
J.: Wice cake!
Me: And we were eating a rice cake!
J.: Daddy!
Me: Daddy was there!
J.: West!
Me: He was wearing a vest!
J.: Birdies!
Me: We saw some birdies!

….etc. etc. etc. I know: fascinating, right? I’m sure to non-parents (and maybe even other parents), this is about as interesting as watching a cable-access station broadcast of the local school board meeting. But I find it amazing and fascinating: first, the memory! Good Lord, I can barely recall what I ate for breakfast today, let alone something that happened over a 30-second span of time in late January. And second, as a psychologist, I can’t help but compare this compulsive re-living of compelling experiences to the process adults who have experienced traumatic events go through as they emotionally move past post-trauma distress and into a state of acceptance of their personal histories. Of course, the rice cake/meeting Daddy incident wasn’t upsetting, only exciting--but the fall down the stairs and the scary snowplow certainly were traumatic in Julia’s baby mind.

In other news, Julia’s latest diversion is her weirdly-adult habit of perusing the stray Pottery Barn catalog by my bed, intently examining the sofas and window treatments, and leafing casually through the March issue of Real Simple magazine, as if looking for a good chicken recipe. What’s up with that?!