Micaiah had a rough time napping today. As in, she didn't.
But I did make her stay in her bed for three hours in the hope she would give in.
As I left her room after my first intervention of asking her to put her book away and lay down, she fussed and announced, "I want my Emmett!" She used the same tone of pleading she typically employs for objects she literally wants in bed with her, as in, "I want my turtle" (Mommy's large stuffed animal) or "I want my snake" (Daddy's old Beanie Baby), so I wasn't even sure I heard her right the first time.
"What was that?"
"I want my Emmett."
"I'm sorry, Baby, but Emmett is asleep."
" . . . I want you. I want my mommy."
At this point, though my heart of stone melted a smidge, I knew she was looking for ways to stall and, perhaps, trying to get out of nap-time altogether by appealing to Mommy's snuggly side with her innocent cuteness. But I know her tricks. And so, heart tearing just a little, I hurried in for a quick hug and then firmly told her to go back to sleep.
She's lucky she's cute.
30 June 2011
29 June 2011
Of Conquering Fears
Children and their phases can be so confusing. Micaiah's on-again-off-again relationship with green beans has led to a stream of frustration, followed by joy, followed by further gritting of the teeth and hair-pulling (of my own). The same has been true of her bath-time escapades. The upside to her bi-polar nature is that she is finally back to getting a kick out of sudsing up.
She loves the bubbles, the toys, the splashing and has even reached the point she no longer cries as we rinse the shampoo from her hair. In fact, she so enjoys her time in the water, she practically kicks us out when she's done being soaped up.
Take this conversation for instance:
Me: "Do you want to stay in the bath a little longer?"
Her: "Yeah. Getout." (Note: The lack of space is no typo - she literally made the demand as if it was a simple one word command.)
Me: "Micaiah, That wasn't very nice."
Her: " . . . Pleasegetout." (Note: This repeating of the aforementioned command was said with no more softness or inquiry than the first time around.)
Well at least she's enjoying herself.
She loves the bubbles, the toys, the splashing and has even reached the point she no longer cries as we rinse the shampoo from her hair. In fact, she so enjoys her time in the water, she practically kicks us out when she's done being soaped up.
Take this conversation for instance:
Me: "Do you want to stay in the bath a little longer?"
Her: "Yeah. Getout." (Note: The lack of space is no typo - she literally made the demand as if it was a simple one word command.)
Me: "Micaiah, That wasn't very nice."
Her: " . . . Pleasegetout." (Note: This repeating of the aforementioned command was said with no more softness or inquiry than the first time around.)
Well at least she's enjoying herself.
28 June 2011
Of Celebration
Today was my birthday. Between yesterday's announcement and today's annual significance, my Facebook page has never felt so alive. But to the wishes of many for a wonderful day, while I did have a nice time, it was no more wonderful, per se, than any average good day.
This lack of spectacularity is mostly due to the fact that the majority of my merry-making occurred over the weekend, when Philip and I had our birthday date - to mutually celebrate our special days which are separated on the calendar by only three days. We were also surprised by a glorious cake prepared by my sister-in-law (and loosely "supervised" by Philip's mom). So, in essence my celebration was wonderful - it just wasn't today.
How, may you ask, did Philip and I choose to mark our momentous occasions? Well, I enjoyed a lunch of a steakburger, fries and a hot dog from Freddy's, followed later by frozen custard from the very same - in between which I bought me some nice fat clothes. Because apparently that's what you do when you're turning 27 and pregnant.
This lack of spectacularity is mostly due to the fact that the majority of my merry-making occurred over the weekend, when Philip and I had our birthday date - to mutually celebrate our special days which are separated on the calendar by only three days. We were also surprised by a glorious cake prepared by my sister-in-law (and loosely "supervised" by Philip's mom). So, in essence my celebration was wonderful - it just wasn't today.
How, may you ask, did Philip and I choose to mark our momentous occasions? Well, I enjoyed a lunch of a steakburger, fries and a hot dog from Freddy's, followed later by frozen custard from the very same - in between which I bought me some nice fat clothes. Because apparently that's what you do when you're turning 27 and pregnant.
27 June 2011
Of New Beginnings
For those of you who are recent followers (or if this is the first entry you've read, even), you may not know there is a reason I am so consistent in my blogging. I made a commitment when Emmett was only three weeks old to blog every day of the first year of his life (starting at Week Three, clearly, because I am not a time traveler). As you may know, I reached my self-imposed goal - with a few days missed here or there for sickness or other such unavoidable causes - last Friday with the celebration of Emmett's first birthday.
This was a big step for me because I tend to be a sprinter and not a marathon runner. As with the resolute notions of many New Years revelers, I typically find myself gung-ho for the first few days or weeks of a new idea and then let the steam run out as one missed step leads to another before the whole thing feels like a waste of time or energy.
But not this time. This time I stuck with it. Because I knew just one evening of saying, "Well, one day won't matter" would lead to the demise of my goal.
Now that my year is up, I'm addicted. I feel as though I have to blog before going to bed. Even when I don't feel like it. Sometimes it's a chore; sometimes it's a joy, but always it's something to be done.
Lucky for all of us, with the end of my son's first year (though, admittedly, he has had very little focus in the scope of this blog), we have a new adventure to follow via my nightly blogging: the impending birth of our third child.
If you had not heard previously, you read that right - three.
My husband and I will be outnumbered. And, frankly, I'm not sure how this will go. But if God believes we can handle it, then so do we. Besides, what's life without a little adventure?
(Also, I hear the third kid is the best . . .)
This was a big step for me because I tend to be a sprinter and not a marathon runner. As with the resolute notions of many New Years revelers, I typically find myself gung-ho for the first few days or weeks of a new idea and then let the steam run out as one missed step leads to another before the whole thing feels like a waste of time or energy.
But not this time. This time I stuck with it. Because I knew just one evening of saying, "Well, one day won't matter" would lead to the demise of my goal.
Now that my year is up, I'm addicted. I feel as though I have to blog before going to bed. Even when I don't feel like it. Sometimes it's a chore; sometimes it's a joy, but always it's something to be done.
Lucky for all of us, with the end of my son's first year (though, admittedly, he has had very little focus in the scope of this blog), we have a new adventure to follow via my nightly blogging: the impending birth of our third child.
If you had not heard previously, you read that right - three.
My husband and I will be outnumbered. And, frankly, I'm not sure how this will go. But if God believes we can handle it, then so do we. Besides, what's life without a little adventure?
(Also, I hear the third kid is the best . . .)
25 June 2011
Of Simple Moments
In our house, I'm not going to lie, we have a Daddy's girl. Not to be cliche, but Philip definitely tends to be the fun, and thereby preferred, parent for our beautiful girl.
In the presence of Gram and Aunt Dia, Mommy definitely tends to fall to the bottom of the pyramid. Now, this status is understood and acceptable to me because it's just the way it is. Besides, there is still a little boy who relies on Mommy for nourishment and, thus, I get to be the one he cries for. So, really, it all balances out.
But tonight, when my daughter crawled up next to me on the loveseat as we watched Family Ties on Netflix, while Gram and Aunt Dia sat on the other couch and Daddy was at his computer, I noticed. She chose me. Laying at my side, she settled her head on my pillow, face inches from mine. And grinned. Saying nothing she simply laid and smiled before finally turning over to watch the show, giving me a chance to snuggle my face into her hair and inhale the wonderful scent of my beautiful girl.
Priceless moments treasured.
In the presence of Gram and Aunt Dia, Mommy definitely tends to fall to the bottom of the pyramid. Now, this status is understood and acceptable to me because it's just the way it is. Besides, there is still a little boy who relies on Mommy for nourishment and, thus, I get to be the one he cries for. So, really, it all balances out.
But tonight, when my daughter crawled up next to me on the loveseat as we watched Family Ties on Netflix, while Gram and Aunt Dia sat on the other couch and Daddy was at his computer, I noticed. She chose me. Laying at my side, she settled her head on my pillow, face inches from mine. And grinned. Saying nothing she simply laid and smiled before finally turning over to watch the show, giving me a chance to snuggle my face into her hair and inhale the wonderful scent of my beautiful girl.
Priceless moments treasured.
24 June 2011
Of Mommy and Baby
We often wonder where it is our daughter picked up the idea of imaginative play. Of course we understand that as kids we often lived in the world of make-believe and she is not the first to role-play, but it is fascinating to watch a child develop into such a realm of play that they voluntarily take on the position of someone else. Micaiah's new favorite role is Mommy.
Among her children are Dia Baby, Gram Baby, Mommy Baby and Daddy Baby - the biggest trouble-maker of them all. While the other three dutifully close our eyes and accept the fact that we're not hungry when Micaiah Mommy declares it to be so, Daddy Baby happily plays the role of the strong-willed son who announces he is not, in fact, tired and most definitely wants breakfast. And then, the clincher. He left the room - without permission!
Therefore, it was not a surprise when he was the first with a spanking and a time-out.
Apparently, though, the ability to punish sent one little two-year-old on a power trip and Mommy Baby was the next victim. Thus, she approached me with a wickedly evil grin that proudly declared, "Best day, ever!" and reared back for the slap on the leg and demanded I join Daddy Baby for time-out - which apparently takes place on the comfortable king bed in our room. Who am I to argue with that?
When not keeping the ranks in line, however, Micaiah Mommy can be very sweet to her children, providing them meals cooked with love, blankets to keep warm and pillows for our heads. She is so thoughtful it makes a Mommy Baby proud.
Among her children are Dia Baby, Gram Baby, Mommy Baby and Daddy Baby - the biggest trouble-maker of them all. While the other three dutifully close our eyes and accept the fact that we're not hungry when Micaiah Mommy declares it to be so, Daddy Baby happily plays the role of the strong-willed son who announces he is not, in fact, tired and most definitely wants breakfast. And then, the clincher. He left the room - without permission!
Therefore, it was not a surprise when he was the first with a spanking and a time-out.
Apparently, though, the ability to punish sent one little two-year-old on a power trip and Mommy Baby was the next victim. Thus, she approached me with a wickedly evil grin that proudly declared, "Best day, ever!" and reared back for the slap on the leg and demanded I join Daddy Baby for time-out - which apparently takes place on the comfortable king bed in our room. Who am I to argue with that?
When not keeping the ranks in line, however, Micaiah Mommy can be very sweet to her children, providing them meals cooked with love, blankets to keep warm and pillows for our heads. She is so thoughtful it makes a Mommy Baby proud.
23 June 2011
Of Speaking My Language
"Let me just say this: when people talk about MY new wife, they're not talking about you." - my lovely husband attempting to end a sassy discussion behind the wording "new wife" (my interpretation: newly married, his? Well, you see that above)
He may not always have a way with words, but at least he requests Skittles on my behalf when someone inquires what we need from the store. He should be grateful my Love Language is "Gifts" - and NOT "Words of Affirmation".
He may not always have a way with words, but at least he requests Skittles on my behalf when someone inquires what we need from the store. He should be grateful my Love Language is "Gifts" - and NOT "Words of Affirmation".
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