Monday, October 31, 2011

Boo

Happy Halloween!
We just tucked in the horse ...
Who next year wants to be a lion.
Then a witch.
Followed by a froggy.
Then, she'd like to be a table.
The next year, a chair.
Yeah, I'm pretty sure at that point she was just naming inanimate objects in the house, like Brick from Anchorman.



We watched The Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown, ate Grandma S.'s apple crisp and Grandma G's popcorn balls. We handed out treat bags to our peeps and played with plastic skeletons and rubber bats.



We learned the lessons of self-restraint and sharing.
Sorta.



We fell in love with Butterfingers.
Seriously. How underrated!
Pretty sure one little horse's pumpkin is going to be missing all of those golden little nuggets of deliciousness come November 1st!

Friday, October 21, 2011

She's Just Sayin'

You never stop talking.
I am your mother.
And your Grandma G. is your grandmother.
And your great-Grandma S. is your great-grandmother.
So, I get it.
You're a talker if not by heritage alone.
We're women! Who have a lot to say.
Like, so much a lot.
Ask your Daddy.
Or your Papa.
If great-Grandpa R. was here, he would totally concur.

And as you continue to talk your tiny face off, I must force myself to remember not just what you say, but how you say it.
I, admittedly, will be sad the day your language and vocabulary straightens out permanently.

Chapstick- Patchick

BandAids- Belmans

Sippy Cup- Siccy Cup

Just in Case- Case in Sure

Umbrella- Cabrella

High Heels- Dot Shoes

CSI- Cop Show

Grey's Anatomy- Doctor Show

Minnesota Lynx- Girl Timberwolves

Movie Theatre- Movie Gator

Chipotle- Poachlay

Lemonade- Lemmelade

Sprinkles- Sparkles

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Right Where I Need to Be

Last night, for the first time ever, I laid with you until you fell asleep.
At your request.
And I don't know who needed it more, at that moment in time.

At 9pm, you whipped open your door, as I walked in for the day, and said, You are home and didn't come into my room!?
I explained to you I literally just walked in. I needed to kiss your Daddy and all that before I tiptoed in to kiss your blonde head.

With you in your footie, fuzzy froggie pajamas, you led me into the dark.
Wanna get in my bed, Mama? Not like before?

You took your place, at the edge of the bed, your stuffed menagerie aligned perfectly, as I took the spot against the wall.
You rolled over to face me, found my arm, yawned. I knew it wouldn't take long. I wouldn't have cared if it had taken hours.
We whispered about a few things. You became quiet.

And I laid there in the dark, with tears rolling into my ears as the day wore away.
I needed this goodnight, little girl.
I don't know how you do it.
Sensing.
Knowing?
But thank you nonetheless.

Mama loves.

Monday, October 17, 2011

Cold Hard Truth



Yesterday the three of us were driving, and the Dad and I were talking about our parents.
Why do you have a Mom and a Dad? the lil' dude asked.
"Well, why do you YOU have both a Mom and a Dad?" I asked her.

I need you both, she began. I need both Mommy and Daddy.
I turned to look at the Dad, my heart swelling, eyes watering.

I need both of you to wipe me when I am done pooping, she concluded.

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Little Learner

Preschool has been well underway for three weeks, and all is going gangbusters. So far, my girl likes painting the most.
Not surprising given the fact her Mama's not too keen on that activity at home. I'm clearly stifling her artistic side.
As if sending my baby to preschool wasn't enough for the fall of 2011, this morning she had her kindergarten screening.
I know.




First day of preschool, 9/12/11

First day of preschool, 9/12/11

I sat in the corner with a clipboard for parental feedback as I sat right next to my little girl for her testing. The 8am time slot made me nervous; she's like her Daddy and not a morning person. The testing began.

A few minutes in, the instructor kept saying, "lil' dude, watch where I am pointing. Listen to me ..."
Sitting in her child-sized chair, the lil' dude crossed her legs and said to her, what's your name?
Fair enough. She hadn't introduced herself to either of us! I bit my lip to keep from smirking.
"Pam," the instructor continued.
Oh, you're Pam. Pam.
And the testing continued.

I was sent home with a District 742 Early Childhood Screening Summary and it reads (for memory preservation purposes):

Height: 41", 90%
Weight: 37#, 70%
Vision: R 20/20, L 20/25
Hearing: R Pass, L Pass
Immunizations: Up-to-date
Family Data: Only child. Lives with Mom + Dad
Primary Language: English
Parent report of Development/Behavior: Easygoing, confident, independent, friendly, and imaginative
Development:
Motor Score- 22 (normal range 10-35)
Concepts Score- 20 (normal range 11-35)
Language Score-14 (normal range 8-35)
Total Score- 56 (normal range 31-105)
Speech: clear articulation
Behaviors observed: happy, confident, cooperative, and attentive
Summary of screening: scores are within age appropriate ranges!


I was, as ever, proud of her.
She was shown random pictures- hangers, tweezers.
She knew what they both were, and what you use them for.
I am continually blown away by this tiny being who belongs to me and what she is capable of.
Motherhood rocks my face off.

Monday, October 3, 2011

Ride On

When I was around eight months pregnant, The Dad installed the baby's carseat in the truck.
When I went to practice fastening and unfastening, in that cold, frigid garage with my giant belly, I couldn't do it.
I cried my face off at my inability.
That was not a pretty picture.
Mama Disch, I am sure you remember. You were there.
So we returned that particular model STAT.
And found one that worked.
And eventually housed our real-live baby girl.
I sat right next to that carseat on our 11-mile ride from the hospital home, too.

That was nearly four years ago.
That carseat was dismissed from active duty over two years ago.

And today, we moved onto bigger and better things:



That's right. Baby's in a booster.
And Mama's in a perpetual state of disbelief, and panic.
Four!
Oh, get used to my melancholy drama. It's only getting worse, and gaining momentum, as the days forge toward December 7.

Four.
She sits with her legs crossed when we get coffee, sitting to chat.
She understands the concept of time- how many more sleeps until ... etc.
She loves preschool.
She's completely done with sippy cups.
She wants to know where she was the day her Mama and Daddy got married.
She defends her dog.
She remembers her stories.
She.