A day in the life. . .

We started our morning off pretty rough.  Susie was crying from almost the moment she woke up until her Daddy dropped her off at day care.  "Mommmmmmmy, I want to stay home with my mommy all ... day ... long."  And, "Please Mommy, I want to have a Mommy and Susie day. I want you to stay home from work."  It is very hard when she does that to us.  Just recently, her daddy caved and stayed home with her.  Now she knows.  She knows that she MIGHT get one of us to cave and stay home if she is just pathetic enough.  I warned him that he was setting precedent. He reasoned that he didn't want her worrying while her Nana was having surgery, so he stayed home.  Noble?  Yes.  However, she now KNOWS.  Which means that she tries to break us. 

At any rate, I get to go to her new "school" to pick her up after nap time.  I found her sitting at a table eating mac n' cheese.  Most of the other kids are off doing something else.  But there is Susie, still eating.  I try to encourage her to eat faster with promises of the park and playing outside.  She decided to continue eating the mac n' cheese one ... noodle ... at ... a ... time, while staring off into space like a zombie child.  So, I was left with no other choice than to do what any impatient parent would do.  I took over, and started shoveling the food in her mouth.  It was at this time that the Director of the day care came over and said, "Susie told me that her mom still feeds her, and I see that it is true." 

*sigh*  Only when I can't be a good, nurturing, PATIENT mommy. 

Just when I was feeling that my parenting skills could use some improvement (OK, I'll be honest - I ALWAYS feel that way, sometimes I just repress it), one of the "teachers" came over and talked to Susie.  After a moment of making Susie giggle, the teacher told me, "Susie is my buddy.  She is so sweet - such a good kid."  Music to my ears.  All of that coaching on good manners and reading Harriett's please and thank yous and The Polite Elephant books paid off.  Ya-hoo! 

We were still sitting there some time later, with me shoveling the rest of her snack in her mouth while she was trying to tell me about the differences between the brown table and the white table, another teacher came over to talk to us.  She told me that she noticed that Susie was more of a tomboy.  Yay!  More music to my ears!  She went on to tell me that most of the girls would rather swing or stand around and do nothing, but not my Susie.  She apparently jumps right into the action and has a blast.  That's MY girl, says this proud mommy.  My cutie patootie, girlie-girl, pink loving, bow wearing, "that shirt is not beautiful enough" saying sweetheart is a tomboy.  Yay.  I was too. I remember in junior high, the neighborhood boys would say they wanted me on their team if we were playing flag football, but wanted me on the other team if we were playing tackle.  I didn't quite get what they meant at the time (as I was quite naive), but now I get that I too was a cutie patootie, girlie girl tomboy. 

Once we made it to the park, Susie announced, "I think that I am going to listen to my mommy while we are at the playground."  Really? Because has something changed.  We haven't been doing too much of that lately, so I'm quite frankly very excited to hear this news.  We played chase and climbed and slid and swung and laughed.  She had the older kids helping her do stuff that she wasn't quite big enough to do yet.  She talked to the parents and greeted the younger kids.  And then, she came across a child with long hair, who to me was dressed and looked very much like a boy.  Susie, true to her nature, greeted the child with a "Hello little girl!"  The child replied, "I am a boy."  He could have been speaking a foreign language as far as Susie was concerned.  She launched into, "What are you doing, little girl?"  And, "Mommy, there is a little girl.  I want to play with the little girl."  The little boy demanded that he was a boy, and ran off.  I, too, tried to convince Susie that the child was in fact a little boy.  She wouldn't hear it. 

So a little while later when we ran into the boy again, she said, "There is that little girl again, Mommy."   I reminded her that he was in fact a boy.  Then the most horrible thing happened.  My sweet child started calling the little boy "Halloween boy" over and over.  He was, not surprisingly, offended.  I was, not surprisingly, shocked.   After getting her to stop, she told me that she only did it because she loved him.  What?  That was a compliment?  Are you kidding me? He wasn't buying it and neither was I.  So, we moved on to Nana's house. 

This is the same Nana that had surgery a couple of weeks ago.  This is the same Nana that used to keep Susie most week days and who Susie once told me that she wished was her mommy.  This is the same Nana that my child loves with her entire heart.  At some point after a meltdown about washing hands, and Nana eating a slice of  apple that she shared with Susie, Susie launched into her "I don't like Nana" mantra.  She eventually apologized for using hurtful words instead of loving words.  She gave her Nana a hug too.  Nana was sitting in her chair and had to lean forward for the hug.  Susie told her, "Sometimes I don't like hugging breastes.  I'm sorry Nana."  I had to leave the room to laugh.   She later told me that "Maybe I put all of my pleases and thank yous and lovable words in the trash can."  I don't like getting my hands dirty with what I like to call used food, but if I had to, I would dig through the trash to get those words back.

We ate dinner with Nana and Grandpa.  Poor Grandpa (which sounds more like Gam-pa), also got to hear about how Susie didn't like him.  All he was trying to do was agree to go home from work at lunch so he could pick Susie up from her preschool and take her to Nana so Nana and Susie could spend the afternoon together.  Shame on him. 

Now, as I write this post, I can hear Susie snoring and intermittently calling for me to come hold her or conversing with the dragon in her dream.  I sure do love that baby girl. The sound of snore has never sounded so sweet. 

Foster kids

There are four things that I must preface this quote with.  First, I work with foster kids.  Sometimes I work from home with Susie playing somewhere nearby.  Sometimes, I even take her with me when I visit with foster kids.  Second, my parents watch Susie when I have to GO to work, and they live near a baseball field.  When we pass it, Susie and I always talk about the boys that are out playing.  Third, whenever Susie notices something leaving or missing, she almost always explains that it is going home to its mommy.  Four, I will often tell Susie that I sure did get lucky that God gave me such a great kid.

The other day, Susie and I were driving past the baseball field and the boys were not there.  Susie commented on their absence, so I asked if they went home to see their mommy.  She was quiet for a moment, and then said, "No.  God didn't give them mommies and daddies to take care of them.  They are foster kids." 

A sure sign that she is able to combine concepts. . . and that hears me talking about work TOO MUCH!

The best part of my day

Today I took Susie to my parents' house so my dad could take Susie to preschool while I went with my mom to a class.  Today I vowed to myself that no matter what, I was going to dedicate the afternoon to hanging out with Susie.  A lot of times I end up taking phone calls and answering emails for work, or I try to get all of my errands done, or I try to get work done around house.  But today . . . today was going to be about playing with Susie.

We ended up playing, running some errands and doing some cleaning.  She helped me cook dinner and we did a good bit of laughing.  Unfortunately, I also spent about an hour on the computer and phone doing some work.   I felt like I had failed.  She acted out while I was on the phone, so I had to send her to her room - ugh! We were supposed to have a GOOD day! 

I tried to make it up to her during dinner by bringing the focus back to her.  While we were eating dinner, I asked her, "So, what was your favorite part of your day?"  I thought that she might tell me it was the Mickey Mouse stickers, or the few M&Ms she had with her snack, or playing at the Chick-fil-a play ground.  Nope.

Susie said, "The best part of my day was Mommy."

I love my baby girl.

Dad ideas

Over the past two days Susie keeps telling me, "Mommy, I want a baby sister." I know this can't really be the case.  She gets all of the attention she could possibly want and a baby would only take away from that.  So, today, I asked her, "Where did you get that idea?"  She responded: "Daddy told me to tell you."


* Sigh *

Love

"Mommy, I love you.  I love you . . . and your bottom . . . and your hands.  I love you, Mommy. . . and your bottom and your tummy and your hands."  That's some good loving. 

What's that you said?

We were driving down the road the other day and I heard, "Shhhh - T.  Shhhhh - T.  Shhhhh - T" from the back seat.  I looked in the rear view mirror and asked my sweet little two year old what she was saying. 

Her response: "Mommy, I'm saying, 'Shhhhhh - T' just like Wrinkles when she gets mad." 

Me: "What?"
           
 . . . Because I'm confused.  Wrinkles is the family cat and I'm pretty sure I've heard everything she has to say and sh!t isn't in her vocabulary.   Certainly, I wouldn't blame her if she said it.  No, really.  We put plastic caps on her claws so she couldn't hurt Susie (see picture below).  So, on a fairly regular basis, the cat is subjected to a two year old, who alternately loves on her with such strength she is left gasping for air, or swats at her while declaring, "Susie smack Wrinkles.  Smack. Smack."  Trust me, I'd have a few choice words if I were the cat. 

Susie: "When Wrinkles gets mad, Mommy, she makes that noise."

Oh! Hissssss. Hissssss. 

***** The cable guy asked if she had been in a fire.  Nope.  She is a sphinx that grew fur in random places.*****

Warrior

Funny.  I always thought my little girl would be a princess.  After all, I taught my nephews (with varying degrees of success) to add Beautiful Princess to the beginning of my name; I used to have princess parties with my girl friends; when I was carrying her, I commonly referred to her as Princess Susie Louise; and I ADORE the color pink.  Instead, in an effort to make sure that she grows into a strong, self confident woman, I have kept her from all but the occasional princess talk.  It was my sister-in-law who bought Susie her first tiarra and princess outfit.  Even then, it was for a casual princess.

In my efforts, this is what I have created:

Me: "Are you my little Princess Buttercup?" 

Susie: "No.  I am a warrior!"

Me: "You aren't a princess?"

Susie: "Noooooo, Mommy.  I'm a warrior."

I recall telling her that some time in the past; telling her that she is strong and could do anything.  I find it hilarious that she remembers.  Do I regret teaching her that? Nah.  She is still very sweet and girlie.  She can still learn to be civil and polite.  But she has time and time again proven that she has the spunk of a warrior.  My sister-in-law recently told me that Susie is bossy (as Susie made demands of her much older cousins).  I like how a friend put it the other day: "Wow! She is really going to be a leader." :) I hope so.  And, I hope she is a civil, polite, confident one.