First day of preschool

Susie started her first day of preschool.  We have been preparing her for quite some time.  She has read books about going to school and how mommy comes back; been told about how fun school is and how mommy comes back, over and over at every opportunity; and she has pretended to be at preschool with her cousins . . . who incidentally are all graduates of the same preschool.  I dropped her off this morning; she did fine.  I cried.  It was after all the first time that I ever left my child in the hands of people that are not related to me.

I went to pick her up and as I was walking down the hall, I heard wailing.  It didn't sound like Susie, but you never know what a kid might sound like after an hour or so of crying.  I peeked my head in the door and nope, Susie wasn't crying. She was sitting nicely at a table creating a picture with markers and crayons!  Yea Susie!! On the way home, I asked her if that kid had cried the entire time.  When she affirmed that he had, I asked her why he was crying.  She told me, "He missed his mommy.  Susie missed mommy but  mommies always come back."

Just as a side note, I had a friend pass away yesterday.  She was only in her forties.  I am almost in my forties.   Let me take a moment to say, dear God, please let Susie's truth about mommies be true for her for a very long time.  Please.

Look at me! Look at me!

We were driving home from the store last night, talking about the events of our day.  From the back seat we hear, "Mommy, stop talking!"  I looked at her with my stink eye and reminded her that she doesn't get to talk to me that way.  She said, "Mommy, stop talking to daddy.  Start talking to SUSIE . . . now!" I guess this is better than whining to get my attention.

Lullabies

I didn't know any lullabies when Susie was born.  Or maybe I did and just couldn't think of them because I was so darn tired and stressed out about making sure she had enough food.  So, I sang her the only song that I knew all of the words . . . Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer.  Some might say that even then I didn't always get ALL of the words right (and they would probably be right).  I've never been into bands or rock stars or knowing all of the songs sung by an artist or knowing all of the words to songs.  Never.  I remember back to my pre-Susie days playing some game with friends of mine when the card gave you the beginning of the lyrics and the players finished them.  I NEVER knew the words.  My friends gave me sympathy points for my efforts.  Well, actually, it was a big group of guys and me, so more than likely I probably received points for being a girl.  Whatever.  I took them. 

But the point is, I am not good with song lyrics.  This is why Susie has an odd assortment of songs that I sing to her at night.  Of course we have Rudolph, and we have the Susie song, and we have a bizarre version of Hush Little Baby.  The Susie song is really just B-I-N-G-O changed to "Mommy has a little girl and Susie is her name.  S-U-S-I-E. . . ."  You have to stretch the syllables in the word "name," but it works and it may be what helped Susie learn to spell her name at such a young age.   Our own version of Hush Little Baby came about because I couldn't remember the words, so I went with what I know:

Hush little Susie, don't say a word
Mommy's going to buy you a mocking bird
And if that mocking bird won't sing
Mommy's going to buy you a diamond ring
And if that diamond ring won't shine
Mommy's going to buy you a 5 and dime
And if that 5 and dime goes bust
Mommy will set up a revocable trust
And if that trust should lose it's corpus
Mommy's going to buy you a Sea World porpoise
And if that porpoise should fail to do tricks
Mommy's going to buy you a team called the Nicks
And if those Nick's should fail to play
Mommy's going to buy you a horse and sleigh
And if that horse won't pull that sleigh
We'll try again another day.

Shhhh.  Night night. 

Jack Pot

I went back in Susie's room to check on her after I heard the faint sound of metal clinking against metal. She had been napping, so I didn't know if the noise was Susie generated or cat generated. I peaked in her door and found her in her closet pulling on the purple skirt we bought at last year's Greek Festival. For a short period of time we used it as dress up garb for Susie, but then it was misplaced. . . until now. When Susie heard me, she looked up with so much excitement and joy, and said, "Susie found skirt with money on it!" I helped her get it out of the closet and on her little body, and she looked at me earnestly and said, "Go to store. Go buy stuff." Who needs a wallet when you have a money skirt!?!

Hooked on Phonics

Ever since Susie was a baby, she has been watching Sesame Street's 20 year celebration movie.  When she first learned to speak, she would ask to see the La-las (because through out the movie Big Bird searches for people to sing La Las).  Now, Susie says something that sounds like, "Snesmee Steet."  She has very few words that I can't pick out, so it's not often that I have to correct her.  And, well, even sometimes when she doesn't get it exactly right, I still don't correct her.  For example, her formal greeting is "hi-low" rather than hello.

But for some reason, snesmee steet bothers me, so I feel the need to correct it. 

Me: Susie, it's Sess-ah-mee street
Susie: Snesmee Steet
Me: Say sess
Susie: Sess
Me: Say ah
Susie: Me Steet
Me: No, Susie, say sess ah mee
Susie: Snesmee Steet
Me: Repeat what I say.  Sess
Susie: Sess
Me: ah
Susie: Me Steet.

And it continued like this for at least 10 more attempts.  She still says Snesmee Steet.

Bittersweet

We will soon be going on a trip and leaving Susie with my parents for the weekend.  Tonight is her trial run.  She has spent the night with my parents before, when she was much younger.  Now, she has her night-night routines and a preference for sleeping cuddled up to her mom, so we thought a trial run would be appropriate.   If I were to be completely honest, the trial run is as much for me as it is for her.  The last time I left her overnight was back in December and I took her extra blankie with me . . . and it was still hard for me!

I had drop-off duty again today. I packed her blankie, her Elmo pillow and her pink monkey along with her change of clothes and pajamas.  I explained that she was having a sleep over at Nana's tonight, and built up the fun she was about to have.  She was lying on my bed drinking her milk and repeated over and over, "Stay with Mommy."  On the drive over to my parents' house, we talked about the fun she would have with Nana and Grandpa and about how much Mommy was going to miss her, and she kept saying, "Stay with Mommy."

We got to my parents' house and she saw Grandpa out in the yard doing some work.  We all went inside and Susie gave her good morning hugs and kisses to Nana and Grandpa. I sat on the arm of the couch and lingered. Like sitting on the arm of the couch wasn't a real commitment to staying, but it wasn't a commitment to leaving, either.  She was told the plan for the day, a trip to Target and the grocery store.  I lingered.  We talked about the sleep over.  And, I lingered. 

Finally, I told Susie that I had to leave.  She started pushing on me and told me, "Time to go now. Susie push you out the door."  Yay! Her first use of the pronoun "you" outside of I love you! 

Wait a minute!!!

Did my child just tell me she was going to push me out the door?  Oh well, at least as I was walking to the door she yelled behind me, "Bye bye, Mommy.  I love you very much."

Potty Talk

It seems indecent to talk about it, but as the book says, everybody poops. We are toilet training Susie. It has been a slow, haphazard process that seems to be more Susie directed than parent directed. We go with the flow. Sometimes she wants big girl panties and sometimes she requests a diaper. We've tried really hard to make it stree free. But, like all good parents, as we did in the very beginning, we still stand over her while she tries and then we clap and dance for her when she produces.

Either out of curiosity or imitation, she often insists that she get to observe our bathroom habits. Over time, we have started telling her that we need our privacy and that we want the door shut. Tonight, Susie announced that she needed to go poo poo on the potty. After I ensured that she mounted the throne safely, Susie looked at me and said, "Mommy, go away. Go do some-ting. Susie going poo poo. Need some privacy!" I stood there with my head tilted to the side, looking at her like she just started speaking Mandarin, so she pointed to the door and said, "Mommy gooooo! Shut door. Susie poo poo in privacy!"

Presumptions and Assumptions

This week I get drop off duty for Susie. It means that I have to get up earlier so I can still make it to work at a reasonable hour. But it also means that instead of the tired Susie, who incessantly chants about returning to Nana's house and getting out of the car seat, I get the freshly awake and in a good mood Susie. I enjoy taking her in the morning. We get to talk and sing songs without any distractions . . . well except for the whole driving thing, but you get that I don't have to answer a phone call or email, get dinner out of the oven, or attend to some other nuisance that limits meaningful conversation.

This morning, our conversation went like this:

Me: "Susie, what are you going to do at Nana's today?"
Susie: "Going on AIRPLANE! Go way up in the sky!"
Me: *curiously asks* "Where are you going?"
Susie: "Far away." *very matter-of-factly stated*
Me: "Oh, OK." *As if I understood, when in fact I was just more curious. Usually, airplane conversations involve Disney World as the destination, so I was curious about this new mysterious place.* "Soooooo, what are you going to do when you get there?"
Susie: "Do some stuff. Have fun."
Me: *thinking, OH, of course!* "Who's going with you?"
Susie: "Nana and Alex. And, Susie go, too."
Me: "OK. When are you coming home?"

. . . . . . Silence. . . . . . .

Our conversation made me think about how smart Susie is. We went on an airplane with Nana and her cousin, Alex, when she was only 18 months old. Since that time she sporadically talks about going on a plane "way up in the sky!" I presumed that, like usual, she was talking about her memory of our trip to Florida. When I arrived at Nana's I learned that going on a trip wasn't on the agenda. However, playing in the boxes and pretending they are airplanes was on the agenda.

. . . . Still silence. . . . . .

So, while I was thinking about how grown up she was getting, it dawned on me that I should give her some positive reinforcement for sleeping her her own bed last night. You see, normally, at 2:30 am EVERY morning, some internal clock in Susie goes off and she starts screaming, "No! No! No! No!" like someone is yanking her out of bed and taking her away. Every morning, at 2:30 am I bolt awake like someone is yanking Susie out of bed and taking her away, and I must go rescue her. Of course, she is always just in her bed mad that she is awake and alone. Of course, I keep getting up and checking on her because I have read about "The Boy Who Cried Wolf." Inevitably, more often than not, she ends up returning to bed with me. In my defense, it is often the quickest way that I can get back to sleep. And, deep, continuous sleep is something more precious than societal approval for not co-sleeping.

My attempt at positive parenting went like this:

Me: "So, Susie, Mommy is very proud of you for sleeping in your own bed last night."
Susie: "Mommy not like Susie."
Me: "WHAT?" *certainly I heard her wrong*
Susie: "Mommy not like Susie. Not want Susie in bed with Mommy."
Me: "Baby! Mommy LOVES you. I LOVE spending time with you! I love snuggling with you! Mommy likes Susie, but also likes for her to sleep in her own bed. . ."

Then I began an endless, incoherent rant about how much I loved her and it was good that Mommy wanted her to learn how to sleep in her own bed. The rant, in retrospect, was more for my benefit, I'm sure, than hers. She mistakenly assumed that I didn't like her because I didn't want her in bed with me at night. The simple explanation would have helped her understand. She certainly didn't need me telling her about the theories I'd read in countless parenting books. But I apparently needed them to help me feel better about my position on raising an independent child.

Today's presumptions and assumptions landed us at the wrong destination.

Monkey See, Monkey Do

Susie is getting ready to go to preschool at the end of the month. I've worried about how she will get along with other kids in her class. Let's be honest - this is a concern of all moms . . . even the ones that won't admit it. Yes, yes . . . we all want them to be smart and learn and make good decisions, but we want them to do all of that while ALSO making friends. She has been going to Gymboree Play and Music classes since she was 9 months old, and hasn't really ever played with any of the kids. In fact, a lot of our time there has been spent teaching Susie that sometimes it is better to keep our (and by "our," I mean HER) hands off of others. She used to be excited to see Bella and Rhiannan, but after an initial burst of joy to see a familiar face, they all went their own direction. Perhaps it was the lure of things on which to climb, jump and beat.

People say that kids her age don't really play "with each other" they play "along side each other." However, there has recently been a shift in the kids that come to Gymboree . . . there is a group of kids that come together that all know each other from day care. THOSE kids play together. They seek each other out, they make sure they have a buddy with them . . . they play together.

Last night, we went to our friends' house for dinner. They have a two beautiful daughters - one 3 years old, and one almost 1 year old. This family has been part of Susie's life from when she was still a newborn squawking in the hospital. Ava came to meet Susie strapped to her daddy's chest in a Baby Bjorn carrier, fussing vehemently when her mommy held Susie. Ava and Susie have been to the zoo together, visited Santa together and had countless dinners together, but they've not ever really played together. Now there was the one time that Susie repeatedly took Ava's stuffed animal and Ava repeatedly expressed her disdain . . . Call me cynical, but I wouldn't say that is really "playing together."

Last night, Susie played together with a friend. Ava and Susie ran all over the house together, plotting and playing all the while. When Ava's daddy dared to open her bedroom door to make sure the girls were, well, still breathing, he was asked to leave. They played "hide and seek" together, where they would go somewhere together, one girl would leave, then come back to "find" the one she'd just left behind. They lied in bed together and pretended to go night-night. They played together.

On the way home, I asked Susie if she had a good time playing with Ava. Susie happily replied, "Yesssss, I DID have fun playing with Ava. Susie go back to Ava's house again. Go back soon."

. . . My heart burst with pride . . .

First, she all of a sudden developed the ability to talk in the first person when answering questions. Her daddy attributed this to his earlier reading of Dr. Seuss's "Green Eggs and Ham." I don't doubt it - she seems to pick up all sorts of skills from books. Second, Susie made a friend! She interacted with another child in a positive way and had a GREAT time doing it. I can now rest comfortably with the knowledge that she will do fine in preschool.

Sweet Tweets

Yesterday afternoon I went to see a movie and have dinner with a friend. Susie stayed at home with daddy and was in bed before I returned home. This morning when she woke up, she looked at me and said her usual, "Good morning, Mommy." I responded in kind and asked her what she and daddy did last night. She narrated her version of events from the previous day: "Mommy left. Daddy didn't leave. Mommy come back."

*Susie is known to narrate her life in such a manner, telling us exactly what she is doing at all times: "Susie going in the kitchen. Susie getting spoon out of drawer. Susie playing with spoon. Susie hitting Wrinkles with spoon. Mommy taking spoon. Mommy make Susie mad . . . ." This type of chatter continues throughout the day, however, this is the first time I've been privy to a narration of past events.*

At any rate, I reassured her that mommies always come back. She thought for a moment, gave me a hug and said, "Don't leave again, Mommy. I love you very much."

Awww. Such sweet words, made even sweeter by the fact that this is one of the only things that Susie says that is not in the third person.

Self Awareness

This morning Susie and I were playing on the floor, having a fun, uninterrupted moment. We had Noah's Ark on top of the sea (a storage bin flipped upside down). The animals were asking Noah's permission to come aboard, and once granted, they would enter two by two making the appropriate animal noises. Good times, right? Then Susie stood up, knocked all of the toys to the floor, went over and bothered the cat (read: pulled her, meowing all the while, off of the back of the couch) and then came over and made her toys start hitting each other. Exasperated with this change of behavior, I asked her, "Susie, WHAT are you doing?" And, she replied with a great big smile, "Susie being a stinkpot!"

Bugs

I don't like bugs. I see what we in the South politely call Palmetto Bugs and I scream. I scream while I beat them with a broom and I scream while I scoop them up to put them in the trash. If someone else is around, I scream while that person kills the bug and I scream while they scoop it up and put it in the trash can. Rest assured, my random squawking doesn't stop until I can no longer see the bug. So, it's only natural *said with wide eyes and head nodding* that when I read books to my child that have (sometimes cute) bugs in them, that I explain that when Mommy sees bugs, she squashes them.

Susie apparently learned what to do with bugs from her Mommy. We had been to Gymboree gym class, and then a quick trip about 20 miles away. Susie started to get antsy in her car seat . . . most likely because we made her ride in the car from quite some time past the magic hour that is her bed time. About 3 blocks away from the house, Susie starts giggling and says, "Susie squashed bug! Squashed bug goes POP, Mommy!" She paused a moment either for us to take that in or for her little mind to make sense of her new experience, and then added, "Pop just like a bubble!"

Respect

This morning we were rushing to get to work. My role is to get Susie ready for her day at Nana's. This particular morning, Susie was running around the house as "naked baby," and did not want to get dressed. Finally, after I'd had enough coffee to tackle the job at hand, I scooped her up and put her on the couch for at least a diaper. As I lifted her legs and slipped the diaper under her bottom, she frowned at me and said, "Susie wants some respect!"

. . . this is where I decide if I'm going to laugh or scold her for being sassy . . .

I replied, "then you need to cooperate!"