For today, anyway...
Miss Thing and I were on our own for the night-time routine this evening since Rocket Man was tied up with work. We had dinner and got her pajamas on and then went upstairs to call Guga and Papa Jim on the web-cam. They weren't home, which was kinda sad for Miss Thing as she kept asking about them. We finally called their house and I let her leave a message...as only a 20-month-old (granted, with lots of words/phrases) can do.
Lately Rocket Man has been reading a bunch of books with Perpetual Motion just before she goes to bed. Therefore I was a little concerned about how she would feel about the fact that she couldn't talk to Guga and Papa Jim nor was she going to see Daddy at all this evening. I did the usual "We're not getting those toys out because we are getting ready to go to bed." routine and eventually she came over to sit with me. Then she wanted to play.
Occasionally we all play a game where I sit on the floor, leaning against the sofa with my feet on the floor and my knees bent up in front of me. PM will come over, push my knees apart and then "get me", which means she giggles and falls onto me. This turns into "Daddy is going to get you!", where she runs to Rocket Man, then runs back to me, and throws herself on me while I protect her from the tickles her Dad is trying to give her.
The anticipation, it almost kills her.
'Tis good fun, this game.
Tonight she wanted to play it.
I told her that Daddy was at work. She told me he was at work. Then she pretended to call for him: "Daddy!"
Then she flung herself onto me, hid her face, and started saying all of the things that I usually say:
"He's going to get you!"
"Here he comes!"
"Watch out!"
It was so terribly cute to listen to her say all of those things.
I played along by stomping my feet (this is how Rocket Man sloooowly comes over to get her), and she started trying to make my feet stomp. This was extra entertaining because she didn't really understand that she needed to pick my legs/feet up in order to stomp them...so she basically ended up just smacking my knees and shouting "stomp!" over and over.
I asked her to show me how she could stomp and it looked exactly like when she dances.
Inneresting.
The game was fun, though not nearly as much so as when Rocket Man is here to play along. It was way more snuggly, though. Without him here to rile her up for real, she was just really cuddly with me while she said all of the phrases.
I recently read a post...somewhere...where a Mom of three or more kids was talking about how she got through the toddler years. Her kids were really close in age and therefore the toddler years of one would be book-ended with more toddler years and infant years...which made for some rather difficult and exasperating times.
She said that in order to not lose her cool or do something outside of the behavior she wanted to exhibit as the Mom, she would always tell herself that one day she'd miss this. This being whatever was going on at the moment.
It is a good thing to tell yourself whenever things are hectic and you think your head is going to explode from the [insert whatever crazy things/monotonous things can happen with teeny people]. I mean, if you are feeding your kid and wishing that they could do it themselves 'cause boy are you tired of it, before you get frustrated or annoyed it helps you to realize that they're going to learn and then you'll be wishing that they let you feed them.
Toddler-hood isn't all peaches for anyone; there is a fine line between needing Mom and Dad and wanting to be independent. I know that wobbly line is crossed...and uncrossed...throughout a child's life and well into adult-hood, but I think that the physical needs, as in I need you to help me feed myself type, are greatest when kids are teeny like mine is right now.
Since I read her post, I've been telling myself that one day I'll miss [this]. She'll learn to do something that I've been waiting forever for her to learn, and while I'll be proud and happy that I no longer have to assist, at the same time I imagine she'll decide she doesn't want to snuggle with me anymore before bed. Or something like that.
Our playtime tonight? One day I'm gonna miss it.
At the rate kids grow and change, that day will be tomorrow.
Miss Thing and I were on our own for the night-time routine this evening since Rocket Man was tied up with work. We had dinner and got her pajamas on and then went upstairs to call Guga and Papa Jim on the web-cam. They weren't home, which was kinda sad for Miss Thing as she kept asking about them. We finally called their house and I let her leave a message...as only a 20-month-old (granted, with lots of words/phrases) can do.
Lately Rocket Man has been reading a bunch of books with Perpetual Motion just before she goes to bed. Therefore I was a little concerned about how she would feel about the fact that she couldn't talk to Guga and Papa Jim nor was she going to see Daddy at all this evening. I did the usual "We're not getting those toys out because we are getting ready to go to bed." routine and eventually she came over to sit with me. Then she wanted to play.
Occasionally we all play a game where I sit on the floor, leaning against the sofa with my feet on the floor and my knees bent up in front of me. PM will come over, push my knees apart and then "get me", which means she giggles and falls onto me. This turns into "Daddy is going to get you!", where she runs to Rocket Man, then runs back to me, and throws herself on me while I protect her from the tickles her Dad is trying to give her.
The anticipation, it almost kills her.
'Tis good fun, this game.
Tonight she wanted to play it.
I told her that Daddy was at work. She told me he was at work. Then she pretended to call for him: "Daddy!"
Then she flung herself onto me, hid her face, and started saying all of the things that I usually say:
"He's going to get you!"
"Here he comes!"
"Watch out!"
It was so terribly cute to listen to her say all of those things.
I played along by stomping my feet (this is how Rocket Man sloooowly comes over to get her), and she started trying to make my feet stomp. This was extra entertaining because she didn't really understand that she needed to pick my legs/feet up in order to stomp them...so she basically ended up just smacking my knees and shouting "stomp!" over and over.
I asked her to show me how she could stomp and it looked exactly like when she dances.
Inneresting.
The game was fun, though not nearly as much so as when Rocket Man is here to play along. It was way more snuggly, though. Without him here to rile her up for real, she was just really cuddly with me while she said all of the phrases.
I recently read a post...somewhere...where a Mom of three or more kids was talking about how she got through the toddler years. Her kids were really close in age and therefore the toddler years of one would be book-ended with more toddler years and infant years...which made for some rather difficult and exasperating times.
She said that in order to not lose her cool or do something outside of the behavior she wanted to exhibit as the Mom, she would always tell herself that one day she'd miss this. This being whatever was going on at the moment.
It is a good thing to tell yourself whenever things are hectic and you think your head is going to explode from the [insert whatever crazy things/monotonous things can happen with teeny people]. I mean, if you are feeding your kid and wishing that they could do it themselves 'cause boy are you tired of it, before you get frustrated or annoyed it helps you to realize that they're going to learn and then you'll be wishing that they let you feed them.
Toddler-hood isn't all peaches for anyone; there is a fine line between needing Mom and Dad and wanting to be independent. I know that wobbly line is crossed...and uncrossed...throughout a child's life and well into adult-hood, but I think that the physical needs, as in I need you to help me feed myself type, are greatest when kids are teeny like mine is right now.
Since I read her post, I've been telling myself that one day I'll miss [this]. She'll learn to do something that I've been waiting forever for her to learn, and while I'll be proud and happy that I no longer have to assist, at the same time I imagine she'll decide she doesn't want to snuggle with me anymore before bed. Or something like that.
Our playtime tonight? One day I'm gonna miss it.
At the rate kids grow and change, that day will be tomorrow.
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