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.

Sweet Tweet

I bent over to stretch my back and rested my head on the arm rest of the couch.  Susie walked over to me and said, "What's wrong, Mommy?  What's wrong, beautiful sunshine?" What a lovely child.

I get no respect

I'm sitting on the couch preparing for a big work project.  I've been responsible for Susie's well-being while her daddy took his older kids back home across the state; so, now it's his turn.  They are sitting on the love seat in the same room, working on a sticker book.  Daddy said to Susie, "Where should this sticker go?"  She replied, "Right here, Slick. Right here." 

It sounds like . . .

Susie is starting to experiment with more complex words now that her speaking confidence is growing.  Sometimes, her interpretation of words makes for interesting fodder.  For example, the other day Susie announced that "Daddy is a boy."  I half acknowledged her.  She went on to say, very proud of herself, "Daddy is a boy.  He has a pinkie between his legs. There in the front, between his legs."  What? What did she say?  I look up from the veggies I was chopping to see her looking at her fully clothed daddy, pointing to his genitalia.  Ummm.  Pinkie?  We pride ourselves on calling things by their anatomically correct name, so I guess what we call it hasn't really registered.  She found a word that she knew as a substitute.   On a seperate note, I guess this was our heads up that THIS is the age where we should find some time to let Susie shower on her own instead of popping her in and out of Mommy or Daddy's showers.  :^O

Less embarrassing, but along the same lines of hearing what you are familiar with instead of what is being said. . . . Susie loves Mickey Mouse Clubhouse.  There is a character on there called the Professor.  He randomly shows up and every time he does, Susie giggles.  I was initially concerned that maybe she had her first crush . . . on a duck . . . on an old, odd sounding duck . . . that is a cartoon.  Whew! Well, it turns out the reason she found him so hilarious is that she thought his name is Pacifier.  Her long lost friend that we had to abandon in favor of straight teeth.  It took me awhile to figure this out.  But one day while watching she told me "That Passey is so silly."  I looked around and asked, "What passey."  And she responded, pointing at the tv, "THAT passey, Mommy.  That pacifier is so silly.  He made Donald a frog."

Geometry Lesson

Susie and I were reading a book about all of the things that could happen to Elmo, and that no matter what, Elmo's mommy would still love him.  At one point Elmo asks if his mommy would still love him if he had corners.  I pointed to the picture and showed Susie that Elmo was square.  She looked at me and said, "No, Mommy.  Elmo's a cube. He's a cube, Mommy." Of course he was in fact a cube.  I just didn't know she knew that word.  Silly me.

Darn it!

On the way home from eating dinner at my parents' house, Susie announces that she wants a lollipop when we get home.  I told her that it is a little too late to have sweets, and maybe she can have one tomorrow.  Susie slaps her hand on her leg and says, "Darn it! Darn it, Mommy!" She doesn't miss ANYTHING!

No!

Susie has a sinus infection and has been a bit of a crank-pot because of it.  After a trip to the doctor's office, we stopped at Nana and Grandpa's house to say hi and ended up staying for lunch.  At the table, Susie kept telling everyone, "NO!" It didn't matter what question we threw at her, the answer was "NO!"  I realize that this is something common amongst two year-old kids, however, Susie is usually a yes girl.  Anyway, after a string of grumpy no's, Nana asked Susie if she had any yes's in there.  Susie responded (of course), "NO!"  So, Nana asked where her yes's went, and Susie said, "They're in the trash can!" 

Ohhhhh.  Well, I guess that explains it. We'll have to go buy some new yes's.

A Wink and a Smile

Susie and I went for a walk around the block today after dinner.  A car approaching us slowed to turn right.  Susie looked at it and said, "The car is wink-king at me! It's winking, Mommy!" And proceeded to wink back at it.  I had to take a second look at the car to realize that she was talking about the blinker.  As the car drove off down the side street, Susie stopped and waved at it, and said, "Bye bye car.  Nice to see you!"

Brimstone and Fire

On the way home, Susie chirped up from the back seat again demanding that I stop talking to her daddy and start talking to her.  She has gotten into the habit of this, so I started asking her, "What do you want to talk about?"  This time, without that prompting, she immediately said, "Let's talk about fire."   . . . OK . . . "Fire hurt.  Fire a sin ... and it's dang - er- ous TOO!"  Did she just say sin? Yep, she said it again; it's a sin because it's bad. We figure she must be learning some religion at preschool.

Names

I don't know what makes me think that it would be an easy thing for a 2 and a 1/4 year old to name things.  For goodness sake, it took us a long time to come up with Susie's name. We looked at all of the baby name books and all of the baby name websites.  I even sat around with two guy friends with whom I went to school and laughed hysterically over all of the names that would sound horrible with my last name.

After months of deliberation, all we knew was that we didn't want a name that everyone else had.  I grew up in the seventies, and I remember all of the Jennifers, Michelles, Johns and Stephens.  The social security data showed that the name we loved the most (Isabella) was also the favorite name of everyone else having a baby girl.  I remember going into Baby's R Us and hearing "Izzy," "Bella," and "Isabella" so often that I couldn't dispute the data, even though I wanted to.

We ended up with Susie's name as a combination of family names and my bff from kindergarten, whose name I have apparently always loved.  Susan was her paternal grandmother, who passed away a few years before she was born.  Her middle name is my middle name, which is my maternal grandmother's name.  And, Susie, her nick name, has always just been my favorite name.  I've had a cat named Susie, a doll named Susie, and it is the fake name I'd given out through my 20's and early 30's to men I'd meet and not want to see again.  . . . Come ON, don't furrow your brow at me! . . . You know what I'm talking about.

So, why I expect to give Susie an object and have her be able to name it on the spot is beyond me.   Though, her name selections have proven to be quite hilarious.

We brought her home a bright red, plush lobster from Boston.  She was a bit taken aback by its appearance. When I decided that she had finally warmed up to it, I asked her what she wanted his name to be.  She looked at it (still skeptical that she wanted to take ownership of it) and said, "Couch."  . . . What?  . . . She nodded her head and said again with more conviction this time, "Couch."  That's been two weeks ago now and she still calls him Couch. 

I've been going through Susie's room, getting rid of all of the stuff that has accumulated over the past two years.  I pulled out some of her very first red high tops.  Nope, I'm not quite ready to part with them. So, we suggested to Susie that we put them on her Teddy.  They fit perfectly!  Then, Susie wanted him to have on a shirt.  I pulled out a 0-3 month old onsie, white with pink polka dots, and stuffed him in it.  Susie announced, "I have a baby!"  She walked around holding him like a proud mommy, made him a crib out of one of the boxes I'd just emptied,wrapped him in a blanket and fed him a (pretend) bottle.  When she came back over to me on the couch (no, not the lobster . . . the actaul sofa) she held him sweetly and said, "I love my baby!"  I asked her what his name would be, and she said, "Polka dot." I tried to lead her to a real name and asked, "Yeah, what's the name of your bear wearing a polka dot shirt?"  She looked at me as if I were not nearly as intelligent as the bear itself and demanded, "Polka dot is name!"

Today we learned that her naming prowess extends to herself as well.  Susie and her daddy were in the kitchen and as I was walking by, I heard her tell him her first and middle names.  I chimed in and tried to get her to say her last name too.  Instead, she told me, "My name not Susie, Mommy, it's Table."  . . . What? . . . She said, "I'm Table!" She said it in such a matter of fact voice that I didn't dare challenge her.  I guess she wasn't feeling Susie today.

Oh well.

Mommy and Susie Happy Time

Susie loves "Mommy's bed."  Even Daddy's side of Mommy's bed.  She, in particular, loves sleeping there.  As a special treat, some times at night, when time permits, she and I crawl into Mommy's bed and read books.  It is a very sweet time for me.  As I read, she cuddles up to me and points to items of interest in her her books.  With some of her books that we have read over and over and over, she will either say some of the pages along with me, or if I pause mid-sentence, she will finish it. 

One book we like to read together is Elmo's 12 Days of Christmas. Last night she even became so comfortable with it that she sang the words for the first day of Christmas, " . . . and a red monster up in a treeeeeeee!"  We both giggled each time she was required to sing.  One of our favorite books is Mr. Brown Can Moo by Dr. Seuss.  She knows all of the sounds and I always pause to let her say them.  Tonight, after we finished reading the page where the hippopotamus is chewing gum, I started to turn the page.  Susie said,  "No Mommy.  No turn the page. . . .  Let's TALK about it." So, we talked about the hippo's crazy eye brows and Mr. Brown's moustache.  After all of her questions were answered we were finally able to finish the book. 

After book time we say our good night prayers.  Susie tells me, "Say Dear Gods, Mommy."  It is usually some version of, "Dear God, thank you for this wonderful day and *insert all of the fun stuff Susie did that day*. And, dear God, please help us tomorrow to be better about *insert all of the stuff Susie had to be fussed at about that day*.  Dear God, please bless all of the people that love me and all of the people that I love.  Dear God, keep us safe, healthy, happy and *insert other feel good words* through out the night and bring us a bright, new, joyous tomorrow.  Amen."

After prayers, we sometimes sing songs or tell stories.  We always have a few more giggles and tell each other that we love each other a few more time.  There are always plenty of hugs and an abundance of kisses.   As I said, it is a special time for me to spend with my daughter.  I try to have as many of these nights as I can.

Tonight, after it was all done and time for her to go to her bed and go to sleep, I told her, "Susie, it is time for night-night.  It's getting late." 

Susie snuggled closer to me and said, "No Mommy.  It's not getting late.  It's not night night time.  It's still happy time."

I asked her, "Happy time?" 

She said, "Yes, Mommy.  It's still Mommy and Susie happy time."

Such sweet words.  I'm thrilled, no . . . I am so very moved, that my special time WITH her is also special time FOR her. With her simple words and tender snuggles, she has taught me a whole new meaning of the word love.  I know that tomorrow our Dear Gods will include an abundance of thanks for Mommy and Susie happy time.

Bugs II

Susie has somewhat of a fascination with bugs.  Maybe because I scream hysterically when I see the filthy, disgusting creatures and her daddy treats them like they are his long lost friends, reincarnated.  She will walk right up to them (they are usually dead or dying, on their backs, feet maybe still waving in the air, trying one last time to try to right themselves and get away).  Many times when I have to go check on Susie in the middle of the night, it is because she is yelling (in her sleep) about some bug not doing something that she wanted it to do or getting too close to her.  When I go in her room, there are no bugs to be found, but she's usually not awake either.

****Just as a side note, let's be clear . . . there are NOT THAT many bugs that come in the house.  Believe me, if there were I would have taken care of the problem, or moved away from the problem, if necessary.  However, we do live in an old house, and some times bugs do find their way to come in and die in our home.*****

The other night, I was sitting on the couch winding down from my day and I heard Susie start yelling about some bug in her room preventing her from sleeping . . . I went to check on her and she pointed to a blanket on the floor, "under there!"  Now, I would squash a bug on the floor, but I'm certainly not going to pick up a blanket and risk the creature jumping out at me.  So, I rounded up her daddy.  He picked up the blanket, and it was not there.   So, Susie started yelling and pointing, "It went under the toy box!" "It went under the shelves!" *scream, scream* "Get the bug, daddy!!" "Under the toys, daddy!" All the while, her daddy was moving furniture and toys on the great hunt for the wayward bug.  I had to leave because I was laughing so hard.

Embarassing Tweets

I work helping abused and neglected kids and because somewhat urgent things arise with them, I end up taking calls at odd hours.  I usually let the person on the other line know that they might hear my two year old in the background.  I, after all, feel compelled to uphold some semblance of decorum in my own family life when I'm dealing with people that (1) have the ability to recommend that your child be taken from your custody, or (2) have had their child removed from their custody, or (3) have a foster child in their home.  It just makes good sense.

Last night I was on the phone with a lady that has custody of a child that was neglected by his mother.  I was riding home from Sears after spending THREE hours picking out and purchasing a new refrigerator . . . with Susie in tow . . . waaaaaay past her bed time. I kept hoping that Susie would fall asleep  before we returned home.  We pulled up to my house and I began getting her out of her car seat and not only was Susie not asleep, she started talking about her daddy being home.  The lady on the other end of the call mentioned that she could hear what Susie was saying and remarked how cute she sounded.  Then . . . *drum roll please* . . . Susie said as clear and as loud as I've ever heard her speak, "Daddy at home.  Daddy naked inside. Daddy NAKED right THERE!" 

..... Ummmm. 

                    .................Ummmmmm.  How do you explain that? 

We laughed. 

For the record . . .  he was home and inside, but he was fully dressed.

Just a Little Bit

It occurs to me that Susie has learned the subtleties of "just a little bit" as opposed to all. When she woke up this morning, she was thrashing about her bed yelling at something. As I was getting out of the shower, all I heard was a series of "no! no! no!" and "aht! aht! aht!" followed by some undeterminable yelling. I poked my head in the door and asked her what she was fussing about. She rolled over and looked at me with still sleepy eyes, and said, "Want Mommy to hold Susie for a little bit." I was, as always, in a hurry to get ready for work, but I told her I had "just a little bit" of time . . . so I scooped her up and we had some snuggle time before we got on with our day.


This evening, Susie was struggling to go to sleep. Her daddy poked his head in her door and asked if she wanted to be rocked. She told him that she'd stay in her bed, but said, "I would like a little bit of water in a sippy cup, please." He passed by me on the way to kitchen and commented on her use of "a little bit". He theorized that it was as if she knew that if she just asked for water, he probably would have told her no.

Nah. She can't be that smart. . . . But can she?
When she asks Nana for sweet tea or candy, Nana knows I don't like her to have it. So, Susie is told she can have "just a little bit."

When I am in a hurry and Susie asks to be held, I will usually concede, but tell her "just for a little bit."
When I ask Susie to do something that requires patience I know I'm going to get her to be still for very long, so I tell her that I need her to sit quietly for "just a little bit."

We've taught her a fine lesson in negotiation.  She might not get everything, or all of what she wants, but if she asks for "just a little bit" it is more likely to go her way.  "Just a little bit," makes it OK. That just seems like such a complex thought process to me.

Shame on me for underestimating the intelligence of a 27 month old . . . just a little bit.