Then, this happened:
Blair had been throwing massive fits in her high chair the past few days, and Friday morning it finally clicked with me that maybe it's her chair she hates (i.e. not me). So, I put her down and asked her if she wanted to sit in a chair. She smiled slyly out of the corner of her eye, then climbed up into this seat.
Oh? I'm sorry. Apparently you've decided you're done with your high chair.
Then, later that same day, this happened:
Sob. Last look at the bangs. I had to do it. Grief from my family members aside, this little stinker had figured out how to remove her ponytail holders, and I was afraid she would swallow one.
She FINALLY gets to sit in the driver seat of a Barbie Jeep!
Have I mentioned ... SOB!!!!
Paige, patiently watching and waiting her turn.
Paige, picking the hairstylist's pockets
The finished 'do. I have to admit it. She looks pretty STINKING cute.
THEN, this happened:
Bye bye, morning bottle.
I decided it was time to start weaning the bottle. (Again, if Dr. Boyce is reading this, ha ha - just kidding. The bottles were gone ages ago. Just trying to make other moms feel better.) Let's just say she was ... um ... how you say? PISSED? This cup was tossed multiple times, accompanied by a scream of "Ba ba! Ba ba!" But after putting on a TV show calmly explaining how it was time to switch to a cup, she relented. Or, gave up. For today.
Then, THIS happened today:
Seriously.
Seriously?!?!?!?!
SERIOUSLY! Blair started PDO. She was all ready to go this morning. She was excited when we dropped Paige off for her first full day of preschool (Paige, by the way, didn't even say goodbye to me. I turned around and she was gone. Before entering the room, I was briefly made aware of the fact that "This lunchbox is WAAAAY too heavy today. Don't do that again, okay?" Sure, Paige. Tomorrow I'll just pack you a Weight Watcher's shake and call it a day.)
Blair was great walking down the hall. She was happy when we walked into the room. Then, I said "Okay, honey. Say 'bye-bye!'"
And she leaned forward to kiss the teachers goodbye.
Uh-oh. No bueno.
I gave her a kiss, and handed her to the teacher. A look of realization and panic crossed her face. The sobs began. Oooooh, man. Why does this have to be so hard?
Her teacher, Ms. Leslie, is pretty no-nonsense. Thank God. "Bye, Mom!," she said, basically shooing me out the door.
I spent the rest of the morning feeling like a band-aid had been ripped off. Sort of a state of shock. I called, and they said she was fine, and in fact was snoozing.
I went in to pick her up, and she cried for a second when she saw me, then a huge grin spread across her face. "Mama!" She reached for me, turned around, and blew her teachers kisses.
I'm not sure how next Monday will go, but I know today went far better than I expected.
What the hell.
These girls are killing me. I feel like all the growing up is happening this week. Like it's all starting to snowball and it's only going to feel even faster from this point on. Then I look back, and I think I've actually felt that way all along. It's just that the moments seem bigger because now I can literally see the steps towards independence. They're not just rolling over or eating solid food. They're actually walking away from me and leaving me for hours at a time to go to school.
I don't even know if that makes sense. All I know is that I need a massage (hint, hint.).
One of my favorite quotes sums it up well:
"Making the decision to have a child - it's momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside of your body." Elizabeth Stone
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