miscellaneous Madeline

13Jun09

Thursday, June 11, 2009 marks the first time I was absolutely, purposely (I think?) manipulated by my daughter. I’d gotten up early with her, changing her and dressing her in the sweetest little sundress. We’d eaten breakfast and snuggled while watching Blue’s Clues, and then I’d reluctantly dragged myself into the kitchen where I hurriedly packed my lunch for the day (because doing this at night would be far too convenient).

As I assembled my sandwich I heard her bare feet running in behind me. I turned, and there she stood: hat on her head, hands clasped in front of her, almost prayerfully. “Ow-sigh?” she said quietly, sweetly. She grinned at me as I knelt to her level. “Mumma, ow-sigh?”

So then I called in sick to work and gathered her into my arms and we spent the day outside, blowing bubbles, chasing butterflies, and eating our picnic lunch on the lush green expanse of grass on our lawn.

I wish.

So does she, I think. Instead I really did gather her up in my arms, covered her in kisses, and promised her that we could go outside when I got home. And then I may or may not have cried my way to work, due to the fact that I had to deny the simplest request from the most important person in my life.

I haven’t cried en route to work in a while; she sure knows how to push my buttons. I’m doomed when she actually becomes cognizant of that fact.

:::

She’s learned to unscrew the top of her bottle and, as such, acquainted herself with the colossal mess that she can make with the milk generally contained to her bottle. It’s another nudge down the road that leads to the Land of No More Bottles; she rarely seems to really need a bottle anymore. She mostly asks for it at bedtime, then refuses to drink it. I think we’ll adjust her bedtime routine a bit, so that the fact that a bottle is not warming is no longer so obvious to her.

Yesterday she made just such a mess with her bottle, dousing her beloved Silky Blanket with milk. She did this right before her nap, and therefore Daddy simply provided the replacement Baby Silky (a duplicate blanket that’s only about 8″ square), changed her milk-soaked clothing, and put her to bed. Last night as I was getting her ready for bed, she spotted Silky Blanket in the hamper. She pointed and jabbered excitedly; unsuspecting, I grabbed it and cuddled it to my face, with the intent of teasing her a bit and engaging her in a silly tug of war: “Oh, you want me to have your Silky? Oh, thank you, you’re so nice, I love Silky… wait, you want Silky? OH! Here you are…” Back and forth, this goes on until it dissolves into peek-a-boo and giggles.

Instead… RETCH. You know what you don’t want on your face? Silky Blanket soaked in day-old, now-stiffened milk.

Needless to say, Jimmy and I have had a discussion about what constitutes Need To Know and have instituted a SOP for potentially smelly, retch-inducing messes. One that, you know, precludes me from PRESSING said mess against my FACE.

:::

Her talent for mimicry has moved beyond simple words. Lately I’ve noticed that, more and more, her words and phrases have become entirely appropriate for the situations she finds herself in:

“You’re okay! Okay!” or “It’s okay!” Hearing this immediately following a little trip-and-fall hazard has become common. It cracks me up everytime - our words of reassurance, comfort and encouragement have soaked in. It gives me the giddy sense that just maybe we’re doing something right after all.

“WHOA!” As she totters along, she sometimes loses her balance; she’ll often utter this phrase as she holds her arms out to steady and correct herself.

:::

Time just keeps flying by. Two years ago this month she was an idea, a word on a stick, a reason to avoid aspirin and alcohol. Now she is our daughter, absolutely real and noisy, growing and careening forward too rapidly for my words to keep up. I’ll borrow hers, then:

“WHOA!”

Filed under: Madeline, parenting, working mom   |  5 Comments
Tags: language development, motherhood, working mother