I’m befuddled how babies like my 21-month-old learn grammar and context, since that’s not something I know how to teach them before the baby’s proficient enough with the language to understand what I’m teaching. Things like…

The endings of verbs:
At dinner earlier, Allie observed Mr. W’s glass of carbonated water and said, thinking a bit before deciding on each word, “Bubbles…coming…out?” I would’ve understood her if she’d said, “Bubbles come out,” but she decided to change the tense to “coming.”

Plural “s” vs. possessive “‘s”:
Allie pluralized “bubble” to accurately state “bubbles,” as she does “apple chips,” “babies,” “One ball; two balls,” etc. But she also says, “Baby’s milk.” “Allie’s potty.” “Dada’s coffee.” Her full statement re Dada’s coffee this morning was to point at the clear glass demitasse of espresso Mr. W was sipping and say very seriously, shaking her head, “Dada’s coffee. Not for babies. Not Allie’s.” Then she pointed to the open baby bottle half-filled with the smoothie Mr. W made for her this morning (the bottle’s lightweight, plastic, less likely to spill than a glass; we just stick a straw in it for her in lieu of the nipple) and said, “That’s Allie’s.”

“Like” as a verb vs. “Like” meaning similar:
I wore a necklace this morning with a pendant featuring 3 Tahitian pearls stacked like a reverse snowman. Allie fingered it and said, “Allie like. Mama like neck-lace?” I assured her I did like my necklace. Then she asked her dad, “Dada like neck-lace?” This evening, she expressed a desire to sit on her training potty, and tapped her extended index finger on the adult toilet across from her potty and said, “Like Allie’s. Like Allie’s potty. Mama sit here. Like Allie.” Then she backed up into her potty and sat down, still pointing to the toilet looking at me expectantly. (Bossy, telling me when to pee.) Even when we’re out, she’ll randomly spot a kid with a toy that looks like hers and she’ll say, “Look, mama. Bike [meaning tricycle]. Like Allie’s.”

Perspective:
The other night I was eating pasta in my plate that was identical to what she was eating on her plate, except hers was cut up. She wanted the food from my plate, and I said, “This is what Allie has, too. It’s the same thing.” I pointed to her bowl.
“Om om,” she persisted, reaching for my plate.
“You want mama’s? But you already have some,” I said, pointing again to her bowl.
She shook her head. “Mama’s. Mama’s. Om om Mama’s.”
I pretended not to understand her and kept eating my own, imitating her with, “Mama’s? Mama’s?”
She clarified, pointing to my plate, “Yours!”
I said, surprised, “What? Mine?”
She pulled her hand back and touched her own bowl and said, “Mine.” She reached out to my plate, hand opening and closing to indicate she wants it. “Yours.”

I think Jayne’s been giving her tutorials. (Side story: Today when we returned from work, we came into the house to see Jayne’s older daughter visiting. This daughter had recently dyed her hair hot pink. After they left, Allie said the daughter’s name. I said, “Yeah, you played with [Jayne’s daughter] today, huh?” She said, “Uh-huh.” I said, “What color is [Jayne’s daughter]’s hair?” Allie said, “Pink.” Then she pointed to my head and said, “Mama’s hair brown.” Jayne’s definitely been working with her on colors, because it wasn’t us who taught her “brown.”)