New baby is comin... move over.

So, little R is my baby.  You can tell why last born children are thought to be a little spoiled. I know we STILL say that about my little brother.  R got nursed longer, she got to use her pacifier longer, she got to use a bottle much longer.  Basically, she gets to be the baby as long as she wants.  Or wanted that is.  The new baby is coming, and it is at the point where I realized that we have much less time than I think.   The recommendation is not to change anything in the two months leading up to and the two months after the baby is born.  Well crap.  That window just closed and she is still in the crib. 

She is a funny lady though.  Her bedtime routine involves (I am not lying here) a massage.  The lady demands a full body massage nightly pre-slumber.  She will move her arms, legs, back, whatever into position.  If you aren’t doing it right, she will take your hands and put them where she wants them.  Especially when it is time for a scalp rub.  The lady is intense.  But, once she is done, she calls “papa…” This means that it is his time to come up, take her from my arms and put her in bed.  Once there, she doesn’t make another peep.

Spoiled that one is.  Stubborn too! Yesterday I asked her to sign finished when she was done with dinner.  She said “Nope” and looked over her shoulder with her arms fully crossed.   Seriously?  19 months and an attitude?   Woah.  

She is also a lover.  She still loves to be rocked, held and even squeezed tightly.  She will bring me the baby sling and ask me to tie her in just so she gets that big hug.   The other miraculous thing?  She can share.  She is 19 months old and this lady can share.   A asked her (not so politely) for a toy.  R looked at her, appeared to think about it a while and then she handed it over.   It wasn’t a mistake.  I have seen her do it more than once.  She shares.  How weird.  

This is not to say that there are times when she doesn’t share.  The big ladies call her “Godzilla” because of how she likes to come and crash/smash/steal from their play.  The good lesson from that is that it can all be put back together.   

Anyway… work calls.  Little Miss R is in for quite a surprise come Halloween.   She thinks it is prime livin being the baby.  Being grown up when she wants to and a baby when she doesn’t.   I keep telling her there will be a new baby.  She doesn’t get it.   Come to think of it, I don’t really get it either.   

School days

School.   What a funny thing.  I was just explaining to B this AM that she has been asking me since she was TWO years old to go to school.   At that time, I remember the ECFE teacher asking me when her birthday would be, so she could start high 5.  I explained that she wouldn’t be 4 for another year and a half.  They were floored.   She is tall, articulate and (ahem… ) mature?  Ok.  I lied about the last part.   She does have skills to build in the social areas, but that is what school is all about. 

The strange thing about school, for me, is that it puts on display all of our parenting skills (or lack thereof).  The teacher will notice if she isn’t polite.  She will notice if she doesn’t shower.  Even if she doesn’t use her utensils properly.   I know the whole world is watching, but the teacher – they have the right perspective.  They know exactly what is on par for this age group and what isn’t.  Of course, this is Lake Woebegone right?  All my kids are above average.  That may be, but I have this lifelong horrible fear of standing out.  It all stems from a 2^nd grade spelling bee.  I pretended not to know how to spell the first word.  This way, everyone knew I chose to be done instead of actually not knowing something in front of other people.  GASP.  Now, I have gotten much better, but parenting sure brings these same insecurities to the forefront.  

Anyway – I could go on for days about what has been going on.   I might.   With my regular posting schedule, I should get there in about… 3 years.   The hardest thing about school for B has been getting up in the AM.  She loves the school, and the friends and the routine, but the morning is torture.   Here is where I think she and I are a perfect match.  Let me explain:

I lift her from her bed singing a gentle song.  She, in toddler terms, tells me to shut the f*up.  I sit her on the couch with me where we have 15 minutes to waste.  I get the lotion she made her nana buy, and rub her legs, feet and back and tell her stories.  These could be about anything.  But here is the trick, one of them has to hook her.  She is so intellectual, that one small hook and she is brought fully out of that sleep and into the world asking questions and ready to hurry into the clothes.   Force or aggression would never work with this lady.  Slow, steady and intellectually stimulating.  Today, a story about how she has been preparing for school for more than 2 years.   

Once she is hooked, she looks at the clothes I have picked out and sitting on the couch.  Inevitably, there is something there that is totally wrong.  That is also by design.  This is so she will get off the couch now and take me to the closet to show me what she WILL wear.  Boom.  No fight about leaving the comfort of storytelling to get engaged with the rest of the AM routine.    Then, in the bathroom she wants to use this fancy pre-rinse that shows her where to brush.  I can handle that.  We brush, potty and put on one of “mama’s necklaces.”  Wait, you say. You let her wear your necklaces?  Oh… there is a trick to that too.  I bought some costume necklaces at the State Fair for $2.00 a piece.  They are MINE (wink, wink) and she is wearing them proudly.

Anyway.  That is our routine. We go to the bus stop and sit and talk about nature.  We observe things like why is some of the sidewalk wet while other parts are dry?  Why is it colder today w/o clouds then it was yesterday w/ clouds?  Why does that lady wear tennis shoes with her skirt on her way to the bus?  We are learning all about this dang neighborhood in our 10 minute wait.  

The remaining mystery?  Why in the past two days has she hesitated getting on the bus in the AM?  What is the problem and what is the “trick” to solving it?  I have my theories… but you stopped reading by now anyway.