When did you learn that?

So, I promised a happy little number for this post. After yesterday's rant, I will focus today on rainbows, and fairy dust, and bunnies. No speak of OCD at all. Swear.
Speaking of swearing, Regan loves Barbie movies. Like, digs them more than anything ever. Make.Me.Gag. And cuss the writer's of these POS movies. Yeah, I buy them for her. When she asks for a new one, every single time at Target, I think, "This one is probably waaaay cuter and better written than the last." Not so much.  I guess we're both brainwashed by Barbie. Oops, I promised happiness.
On the bright side, despite her love for crappy movies, she is really a joy. She surprises me everyday with some random trick. Like, yesterday, we were being all bored playing with some plastic cars, and she starts counting in Spanish. TO FIFTEEN! I had no idea she could do that. Or, today, when she rattled of all of the months of the year. IN ORDER. My point here is not to be that annoying Mom who thinks her kid is the next rocket scientist who will cure diseases and speak nine languages and win beauty pageants. My point is that she now knows things. All sorts of things. Things that I did not teach her.
When she was a baby, the only information she had available to her came from me. (Scary, I know.) And, even as a toddler, all she knew, I taught her. I knew everything she knew. I knew what to expect from her, because I was the one who told her what to say, what to do, or how to answer the question. I knew she knew her animals, body parts, certain songs, and what she liked to eat.
Now, it's different. I'll be thinking, "Man, I am so close to my kid, and we're so in tune with one another," and then she'll bust out something like the fact that she knows how to say "bless you" in Chinese. Excuse me? When did this happen? She is now more than just my baby. She is a friend, a student, and little mini-member of this big world. She can decide that she no longer likes pancakes or that she wants to play soccer or that she can add. I no longer influence her the way I once did. (Maybe a good thing?) She is her own little person, which makes me both proud and scared at the same time.
This is surely going to happen with Tyler soon. Right now, he just happily stumbles around knowing where his belly is and that trains are cool. One day though, he's going to say,  "Mama, look. I can shoot a basket." I will not have taught that to him. He will have learned it from someone else. He will know more than what I am able to teach him. He will begin to make his own decisions, and trust others to teach him all sorts of new tricks. I can only hope that he will have better taste in movies than his sister.