Greetings Little One

A Tale of Two Beds

Mommy has spent the past two nights in the hospital, little one, dealing with a placental abruption.

A placental abruption is the separation of the placenta (the organ that nourishes the fetus) from its attachment to the uterus wall before the baby is delivered. If not treated properly, it can endanger the baby’s safety and well being.

You have been excellent during the time that Mommy has been in the hospital, little one, and Nani and Gramps have been staying with us and helping as well. Among other things, they have been bringing you to and from school everyday and feeding you your meals when I am not available.

Other than the occasional complaint that Mommy is not home, your spirits have been surprisingly good.

You have also been getting a lot of Mommy and Daddy time, as the photographs below indicate. The three of us may not be together, but we are spending as much time with you as possible, little one.

 

Mommy sent me this today

Your parents love each other, little one. 

I think this is important for kids to know. 

Gratitude journal: The family dinner

Tonight I am grateful for our family dinner, little one. 

This evening, you asked that we read to you during dinner, but Mommy suggested that we talk instead.  You weren’t too keen on the idea at first, but a little redirection had you devouring apple slices and cheese as Mommy and I discussed the day.

'Then you decided to speak.  “Layla took my seat today, Daddy” you said.

Mommy was already aware of the incident, which occurred just prior to leaving school.  She explained that while you were getting ready to leave, one of your friends sat down in the chair that you were previously occupying. 

In the world of two-year old children, this is apparently a big deal. 

“What did you do when Layla took your seat?” I asked.

“I told Mommy,” you said said. 

Mommy and I reinforced this decision as a good one.  We then role played some things that you could have said to Layla in order to solve the problem yourself,

“Maybe I can call Ari tonight on the computer and tell him all about it,” you suggested. 

“Sure,” I said.  “If that will make you feel better, that’s a great idea”

Then you suggested that we call Layla’s mommy, too. 

We tried to explain that this was unnecessary, and after you persisted with the idea, we successfully redirected you back to the idea of calling Ari.

The whole conversation fascinated me.  My little girl, who will turn three next week, decided to discuss a problem that occurred at school with her parents while sitting at the dinner table.  You explained the problem, described your solution, and offered alternative ways of making yourself feel better about the problem.

You also acted a little bit like a helicopter mom in suggesting that we call Layla’s mother, but that’s okay.  You’ll learn. 

Had we read the book as you requested or not sat down for dinner together, this conversation would have never happened, and the problem solving, role playing and reinforcing that took place would have never happened.

Even worse, the immense pride I felt in listening to my daughter describe her day would have been lost forever.

I’m feeling very grateful for the family dinner tonight, little one, and am looking forward to the next one. 

Punishing myself

After you refused to allow us to change your diaper and put you in your pajamas, little one, Mommy and I picked you up, plopped you in your crib, said goodnight, turned out the light and closed the door.

No pajamas.

No books.

No brushing of the teeth.

No cuddles.

No kisses.

A complete break in the routine.  A complete absence of the love and affection that  usually ends our day.   

As Mommy closed the door behind her, we held each other, feeling like terrible and great parents at the same time. 

“What will we do when she starts calling for us?” I asked Mommy.

“We’ll give her one chance,” she said. 

“Okay.”

No chance was ever needed.  You fell asleep immediately and never made a peep.

I couldn’t believe it.

Your disobedience probably had more to do with exhaustion than obstinacy.    

I sit here in the wee hours of the morning, writing this post, waiting for you to wake up so I can kiss you and hug you and tickle you.  All of the things I missed last night when I had to be a good parent and do the right thing for you instead of the right thing for me.

I’m a selfish man, little one.  This parenting can be hard. 

Mommy and Daddy’s fifth anniversary!

It’s our anniversary today, little one!  Mommy and Daddy have been married for five amazing years, and this year I didn’t confuse the number!

And we were happy to have you celebrating much of the day with us.  After a breakfast of monkey pancakes in Simsbury, we headed over to Flamig Farm to see the animals.  You spent a lot of time staring at the baby chicks, the hens and the pigs and playing a great deal in the farm trailer.

Hide and seek and chase Daddy.   

A fun beginning to our anniversary celebration!

        

Ageism

If asked, you will say that you are two years old. 

Correct.

But you also believe that I am two years old and Mommy is three years old. 

Obviously incorrect, but why are we the same age and Mommy is not?

Clara looks like Clara

Your teacher asked you today if you look like your Mommy or your Daddy. 

Your response: 

Neither. You told her you look like Clara. 

Good answer, little one, and one that Mommy and I got you to repeat this evening during dinner.

If only they were real…

If only our new washer and dryer were real, Mommy’s life would be so much easier, because you love to pretend to do the laundry, little one.

   

Mommy does almost all the laundry in the home, but for the record, I did almost all of the laundry the four years that we lived in apartments together, and I am still willing to help out with the laundry whenever needed. 

She just doesn’t let me.

This parenting stuff is easy

You are now two years and two months old.

I have yet to install a car seat in my car, nor have we ever moved the car seat from Mommy’s car to mine.  We have simply managed to get by with one child-proofed vehicle.

We have yet to install a gate at the top of bottom of our staircase.

We have yet to place a locking mechanism on any cabinet in the house.

I’m either a terrible father or Mommy and I are big-pimpin’ super-efficient parents with a compliant-as-hell daughter.

Either way we win, little one.  We’re very lucky. 

Of course, you’re still limping like a wounded vet with shrapnel buried in his leg, but that didn’t stop you from sliding for about thirty minutes yesterday.

For identification purposes

You told your preschool teacher, Tonya,that Daddy’s name is Matt and Mommy’s name is Elysha.

You also frequently refer to our cat as “the kitty cat named Oh-oh.”

Pretty smart, little one.