September means sharpened pencils and new notebooks--or, in our case, three clean diapers in a zip-lock bag and a sippy cup with her name on it. At the ripe old age of 23 months, Baby C is off to "school." Technically, it's a program called Mother's Day Out, and it's only two mornings a week. In light of Baby No. 2 due in Janaury, I thought it would be good for Baby No. 1 to have her own thing going on. I just didn't realize it would be so hard to say goodbye at the door. I confess to peeking around the corner before leaving the building. She was on a stool, curly head bent over the sink as she washed her hands with her teacher's help. And she looked so tiny! Gulp.
I'll get to savoring this alone time in a couple of weeks. I'll get to the basement that needs cleaning and the new, "big girl" room that needs decorating. Right now, though, I'm just going to sit by the phone in case the school calls, and think about my little big girl.
Little Miss Me-Do
Baby C's decided that she wants to do it All By Herself, all of the time. Do what? Oh, just about everything she sees. Putting on her own shoes, pouring her own milk, driving the car, and lighting the grill. Lofty goals for someone not yet able to drink from a cup.
"Me do!" She says, pushing my hand away from her shoes and bursting into tears. "Me do!"
"Okay, honey, you try it." Her sobs abate as she attempts to navigate her feet into her Stride Rites. She rejects my attempts to help or direct. After a few minutes, she bursts into tears again.
"Honey, can Mommy help?"
"Ess." She says, giving me a radiant smile and handing me a shoe.
"NO!" she sobs when I try to put it on her foot. "ME DO!"
Repeat.
Repeat.
Repeat.
Eventually, after a good half hour, she is dressed.
At breakfast, Little Miss Me-Do tackles putting the cap on her own sippy cup, which I surreptitiously tighten when she's not looking. All goes well until it's time to get into the car to go to the library. "Me do seat," she says, climbing into the car. Then she sits down on the floor of the car and grins up at me, clearly delighting in her mighty toddler power. I count to three, then lumber my pregnant self into the back and buckle her into her car seat. "No, No, NO!" She screams. "ME DO SEAT!"
"That is enough. We have to go now." I turn the key and she happily sings her ABCs (You know, the version that goes: "A-B-C-6-9-4-Y-Z! Now-know-ABCDS-next-time-sing!"). We get to the library, I unbuckle her, and she refuses to get out of the car. The crying starts again, but Baby C's happily eating old Cheerios off the floor mat. This time, it’s me.
"Me do!" She says, pushing my hand away from her shoes and bursting into tears. "Me do!"
"Okay, honey, you try it." Her sobs abate as she attempts to navigate her feet into her Stride Rites. She rejects my attempts to help or direct. After a few minutes, she bursts into tears again.
"Honey, can Mommy help?"
"Ess." She says, giving me a radiant smile and handing me a shoe.
"NO!" she sobs when I try to put it on her foot. "ME DO!"
Repeat.
Repeat.
Repeat.
Eventually, after a good half hour, she is dressed.
At breakfast, Little Miss Me-Do tackles putting the cap on her own sippy cup, which I surreptitiously tighten when she's not looking. All goes well until it's time to get into the car to go to the library. "Me do seat," she says, climbing into the car. Then she sits down on the floor of the car and grins up at me, clearly delighting in her mighty toddler power. I count to three, then lumber my pregnant self into the back and buckle her into her car seat. "No, No, NO!" She screams. "ME DO SEAT!"
"That is enough. We have to go now." I turn the key and she happily sings her ABCs (You know, the version that goes: "A-B-C-6-9-4-Y-Z! Now-know-ABCDS-next-time-sing!"). We get to the library, I unbuckle her, and she refuses to get out of the car. The crying starts again, but Baby C's happily eating old Cheerios off the floor mat. This time, it’s me.
Managing Expectations
The reason for the radio silence over here can be explained by two little words. Morning sickness. I suppose the happier announcement would be that I'm expecting again, or that Baby C will be a big sister some time in early January if all goes well. But January is a long way off. In the meantime, it's morning sickness. Sadly, not the kind that's actually confined to mornings.
I'm slowly starting to feel better, though, so I figured it was time to dust off the old blog.
When I was pregnant with Baby C, we didn't tell anyone until the 12 week mark had passed. It's a bit early for my taste to share such news. Unfortunately, my body disagrees. I'm already showing to the point of getting questions as to my due date, (and I receive looks of shock and pity when I answer 2010.)
While grateful to be able to get pregnant, I've never been enlightened enough to think it a beautiful state. I wonder hourly why men are spared, and I have an earful for God on the subject if I ever get a private audience. In the meantime, Baby C runs wild through the house as I try to entertain her from the sofa by reading aloud from the informational packet my doctor gave me. Chapters include the following:
Excessive Salivation
Nausea
Heartburn
Constipation
Backache
Varicose Veins
Hemorrhoids
The packet is entitled, "Great Expectations... a guide to enjoying your pregnancy."
I'm pretty sure the irony is unintentional.
I'm slowly starting to feel better, though, so I figured it was time to dust off the old blog.
When I was pregnant with Baby C, we didn't tell anyone until the 12 week mark had passed. It's a bit early for my taste to share such news. Unfortunately, my body disagrees. I'm already showing to the point of getting questions as to my due date, (and I receive looks of shock and pity when I answer 2010.)
While grateful to be able to get pregnant, I've never been enlightened enough to think it a beautiful state. I wonder hourly why men are spared, and I have an earful for God on the subject if I ever get a private audience. In the meantime, Baby C runs wild through the house as I try to entertain her from the sofa by reading aloud from the informational packet my doctor gave me. Chapters include the following:
Excessive Salivation
Nausea
Heartburn
Constipation
Backache
Varicose Veins
Hemorrhoids
The packet is entitled, "Great Expectations... a guide to enjoying your pregnancy."
I'm pretty sure the irony is unintentional.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)