In the midst of it.

Gillian has been making us WORK for the past month or so. She is back in a test-and-see phase, and it’s utterly exhausting. She will yell from the couch “MORE LITTLEBEAR!!!!!!!!!” when she wants us to put on her second morning show even when she knows Addie is sleeping (or maybe because Addie is sleeping?). She will tell me to do something “RIGHT NOW,” (and then she might tack on an “I MEAN IT, MAMA. NOW,” as a kicker). If I ignore the hollering, she starts screaming “MAAAAAMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA” like she is being stabbed in the eye with an ice pick. She says NO a lot these days, followed by an “I don’t want to”. I swear Sean said, matter-of-factly, “Go to your room. You don’t talk to your mother like that” this weekend. To a THREE year old. Given this, can you imagine what 13 will look like? The there’s the perpetual getting on Addie’s case (No, ADDIE! NO,NO,NO ADDEEEEEEEEE!!!!) no matter what she does, and the casual shove or kick.

On top of it all, sleep has been a world class nightmare these days, as Gillian simply cannot go to sleep at night. I mean, she’s tired. But, even after the few attempts to break out with “I’m just not tired” or “I can’t get to sleep” or “I’m scared in there by myself” or “I just want you!”, she will sit in her room and look at books for 1-2 hours. She has still been napping, but I think we’ll try scrapping that in an effort to get her down at a reasonable hour. On top of wearing her out (which unfortunately has a triple effect wearing us out), which worked like unicorn magic yesterday (a full day topped off with a awesome picnic in the park with Francie and family wiped her out good-no trips out of her room last night, and snoring commenced within 10 minutes of tuck in).

We try to do the right things. We try not to engage her. We try to be calm and not reactive. We try to be consistent. I guess at this point, we just keep doing the same things we’ve been doing, and hope it blows over. SOON. I am often amazed how little people talk about this phase. Unless my child is the only challenging one on Earth. I mean, how do people SURVIVE this without talking about it?

You think you’re on the brink….but then, days like yesterday, she’s like a little angel who has fallen to earth, radiating effervescent kindess and good will all over the place. It’s almost like she knows you’re seriously losing it, and has to lure you back with saccharine goodness. She is polite, sweet, accommodating, and helpful. It seems these qualities come out most when we ask her to help with things she perceives as “grown up”. Also, we spent some hours alone (without Papa or Addie) grocery shopping, and we had a blast talking and singing and shopping. She loved loading up her little cart at Whole Foods with fruit and veggies she picked herself, and putting all the food on the belt at the register. She even walked her little cart back where it went, proudly telling me that “now another little girl is going to use it.” Everyone at Whole Foods, and Target, and Jewel were like “WHAT A BIG GIRL YOU ARE!!!” or “YOU ARE SUCH A GREAT HELPER TO YOUR MOMMY” or “WHAT A PRECIOUS LITTLE GIRL!!!!!!!!!!”. I smiled demurely, thinking yeah, you don’t know the HALF of it, lady... So, if I could think of something important for her to do every second of my day (the idea makes me want a nap) then my hypothesis is that Gillian would be an angel child.

A World of Poo

Addie, unfortunately, has inherited my bowels. This is sad for a number of reasons, such as:

1) People who live mostly on breastmilk and vegetables deserve better than that...seriously, how can you be constipated with a diet of vegetables and breastmilk?
2) Babies deserve to have an easy time of pooping since everything else (expression, mobility, rational thought, etc.) is rather difficult;
3) This results in her having poop like tiny pebbles of granite, which could easily break plate glass if aimed properly;
4) She strains, grunts, and cries to produce a tiny pebble poop the size of a pencil eraser;
5) She's not quite a pro at sippy cups, and consequently, water intake...and so we go....

But lucky for Addie, there is a clean, fun, safe bathtub to relax in after a tough day of playing. So as relaxing as our wonderful, bright, and cheerful bathroom is, Addie can't stand to be in that tub without pooping. We see her stand and grunt, or squat and grunt, and the pebbles are forthcoming. Gillian, characteristically, laughs and says "ADDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!", and informs me that she pooped. I get my little fish net out and scoop up the rabbit pellets before Addie decides to see what they taste like. So, not so much use for the fish, but lots of use for the poop (like, every day use). A day in the life, or something like that.

Thoughts

So, lots swirling around right now. Gillian started school on Monday (or, rather, CAMP, as she likes to remind me). But, still. She is away from my sphere of influence for four hours a day, five days a week. But that's not the hard part, exactly. It's that she's in someone else's sphere of influence. Most likely, lots of somebodies. Can you indulge me for a second as I tell you the heartbreaking story of yesterday?

Apparently, the glee over the "things that dry the doll's hair" in the toy bin from Monday waned on Tuesday. Yesterday, I asked her how camp was and she told me there was a boy there who wasn't nice to her. (He also revealed that he had a Papa and no Mama (somehow)-aside: ENTER having to explain alternate social structures of relationships as Gillian notices families different than hers.) I guess they have a buddy system when walking around outdoors around roads and such and have to hold hands, and he was her buddy. She said he "looked at [her] mean" and "tried to hit" her. Now, if you can give me some slack for the momentary rage I felt for this kid....and then how tragically sad I felt that it had never occurred to Gillian that some people won't love her in this world. Because then she turned to me and solemnly said "Mama, why was he mean to me? Why doesn't he like me?" And I got an immediate lump in my throat. Because what do you say to that? I just offered that maybe he had had a bad day, and that she should try to be even nicer to help him feel better. I wish that would be the last time I heard those questions from her, but I assume I will hear it thousands of times by the time she's a teenager, and hundreds of thousands of times after that.

And today I dropped her off for the first time (I am home on Wednesdays), and she whispered "that's the boy who was mean to me" and pointed to a unmenacing looking curly-haired boy. He looked like he was quite a bit older than he should be for their camp class of not-more-than-5 year olds, and seemed engrossed in some building project. I am sure we will talk again today about him, but it's nice to have a visual. She was clingy to me at drop-off, and the teacher offered Stella as a playmate. Stella (sweet and 3-4ish and friendly) came to collect Gillian, who buried her face in my legs, and Stella, rejected, walked away. Sometimes I worry about G's standoffishness, and this didn't bode well for friend-making. I'll just hope she's more independent and open when I'm not there (since Sean swears I bring that out in her and that "WE (he and Gillian) don't have those problems").

But none of this is to say that Gillian isn't SUPER READY for preschool. She needs to play with kids her age instead of two 11 month old babies. She needs to learn the social skills of play and what is and is not acceptable to others through reinforcement, trial and error. And she needs to learn that sometimes you play something you don't want to play with someone to make someone else happy, or to cultivate friendship with someone else. Case in point-Sunday we went to the pool and a little girl named Maddie was circling and trying to engage Gillian, who ignored her. She wanted to share Gillian's baby doll, which Gillian was not wild about, but allowed. Then she threw the ball at Gillian in hopes she would play catch (to which I said, "Look, the little girl wants to play with you!") and Gillian informed me "NO, she's getting on my NERVES." Wow. Lesson #2,456: censor what we say, even when we don't think she's listening.

So, Gillian is going through it a little. We are hitting a tough phase again. I was heartened to read that she is pretty typical with my cursory search for why she would have started fighting bed time again (we were doing so well). But I kindof dig the idea of periods of equilibrium and disequilibrium that are phases of normal developmental behavior. So, between 3.5-4 we are in a phase of disequilibrium. Disharmony. If the shoe fits.... These days when bedtime rolls around she insists that she's not tired, that she isn't ready for bed, that she just wants to play for "a little while"....stall, stall, stall. Once she's in bed she comes out to tell us she's not tired (still), can't fall asleep, is scared, you name it. This goes on for 1-2 hours. Even though she usually comes out three times, we hear her in her room playing, or reading, or singing, for a very long time before it's quiet. I had previously been delighted to realize she was still napping when most kids aren't, but it might be time to cut naps out and see what happens. Maybe that 12 hours should be a solid block and not include a nap. We will test that theory today. If that doesn't work, I am afraid it's back to less desirable options-towing the hard line.

I am starting to think it probably never gets easier to parent as children grow, just more complicated.

Newest

One of Gillian's gifts she bought with a token is a real microphone that gets plugged into my real amp. At least someone is using it these days. Without further ado, behold my extrovert:


And, ADDIE IS WALKING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Officially, she walked 6 months earlier than Gillian. It's stiff and awkward, but it's walking. She took her first steps into my arms after a long day at work a few weeks ago, and that pretty much rocked. So, here she is in the hotel room at my conference last week (wine cork and all-the rubber ones make better teethers, FYI).