This evening as we were getting ready to climb into the rocking chair, Reid asked where Daddy was. I told her that he was on an airplane flying to see us. Reid said not “see me” and then I said, “yes, see you.” She grinned and said, “not see me, C.N. C.N. Tower” and then we laughed together.
Archive for June, 2007
As some of you will know, whenever anyone mentions or serves pie, Ken says, “I had pie once.” He can’t help it. It’s hereditary. His grandfather always said it and now he does. On Sunday I asked Reid if she wanted to bake a pie and, without missing a beat, she said, “For Daddy?” I said, “Yes. He had pie once, you know.” We both grinned. I’m not sure if she was smiling at the thought of making a pie for her daddy or because of his silly saying.
When I offered Ken a choice of strawberry, rhubarb or strawberry-rhubarb pies, he said he wasn’t keen on any of them. Maybe there is a reason that he’s had pie only once! I made a rhubarb cake instead and he was suitably enthusiastic and thankful. Still, it’s a long time until apple season …
We dropped Ken off at the airport this morning and then stopped at McDonald’s for breakfast on the way to daycare. Reid was reluctant to get out of the car, I think because she wanted a hamburger, and I offered to take her back home. (Warning, this would come back to bite me.) She eventually agreed to go inside. I decided a good compromise for a girl who wanted a hamburger was a Egg McGriddle. She (usually) likes scrambled eggs and then she’d have a sausage patty on a bun. I’m a hotcakes and sausage girl. Well, the entire thing was rejected at first but once I’d cut Reid’s sausage patty, thinking she’d sit on my lap and eat it off my plate, she asked for the patty back. Sigh. Didn’t she know I was trying to be clever and mama-sneaky? She decided small pieces were better than none and ate happily. The eggs were never tasted and I can’t say I blame her. They were square and when Reid stuck her fork in the middle, the whole piece came up. The intriguing pseudo-pancakes were also rejected. I broke down and bought a second sausage patty for her. Reid was happy with her sausage and uncut apple juice, though.
As we left, I was thinking: Does she not know that Grandma Dundas would have thought breakfast at McDonald’s was a great treat? Does she not know that we were honouring her by eating there? Does she not know how dramatic I can be? (If you’re wondering, the answers are: no, no and yes ;+)
We attended a picnic at Reid’s daycare on Friday night. I was eager for the day to arrive but afraid to jinx anything. Last year Reid was sent home on picnic day with an intestinal something or other and instuctions that she wasn’t allowed to come back for the festivities. Sigh, it was even one of those kicked out based on rules but no sign of illness at home situations. I really wanted to meet the other parents. I don’t see many since Ken is usually in charge of drop off and pick up.
The problem with this past Friday’s picnic is that I was the same person I always am, which is to say that I am not comfortable in crowds and seem to have an amazing knack for sitting or standing near francophones. Add to that Reid’s desire to have us pay attention to her and Ken’s similar crowd-comfort feelings and you’ll not be surprised to hear that we only really talked to each other, Reid and the teachers. We did speak to Nicholas’ parents a bit but we didn’t introduce ourselves. Ah well, Reid was happy to have us in the sandbox and in the playground with her.
They served hotdogs and grapes – foods I cut in half before giving to Reid because they’re choking hazards, just read the advice literature. I didn’t tsk-tsk loudly. That would have been rude ;+) There were also cans of pop free for the drinking. Reid and I shared a cream soda and orange pop. She likes the taste but didn’t guzzle too much. Some of the little kids could have matched a college kid at a keg party, though. I wonder how many late night belly-aches and wide-awake kids there that night. Poor Ken had gone home sick Friday morning and wasn’t able to enjoy the food and drink provided. Poor me, I did choose a hotdog. A boiled and cooled off hotdog that I ate quickly, that is.
All in all, it was a nice event. I would say that even if we hadn’t won a door prize, though it was nice that we did.
When we were leaving the Ontario Science Centre last week, Reid asked me to carry her and she was visibly dragging her little self along. I pointed to a set of doors that were 50 metres ahead of us and told her that I would carry her once we were through those doors. She perked up and said, “Let’s run!” And so we did. As we got to the doors, I wondered if Reid would keep running since she’d clearly found her second wind but she hadn’t forgotten and so I got to snuggle and carry my girl who is getting bigger but is still my baby, just ask her – she’ll tell you.
Reid and I got back to Ottawa about 10:15 last night. She didn’t sleep a minute through the whole trip, not even when I was being as boring as I could possibly be. The problems with the train are:
the big windows revealing interesting countryside, especially for Reid who likes barns, animals, buses, and all manner of things, really;
the experience itself is novel and interesting; and
there is no “seatbelt” sign requiring that Reid stay in her seat.
Note that each of these problems were among the reasons I took the train up until 8:00 or so.
Reid was happy throughout and so I must acknowledge that I really am lucky. But I am tired, too. So tired in fact that I’m a wee bit silly.
I just saw a woman pushing an infant and the little girl (I’m just guessing, not to stereotype) was wearing tights. The first time Reid ever wore tights flashed into my mind and I grinned. When Reid was about weeks old, Grandma Barb organized a baby shower for Ken’s side of the family. We were at Grandmama’s apartment. When it was time for Reid and me to get our clothes on, I handed Reid’s dress and tights and went to change my own clothes, giving Grandmama a signal to watch as I went by. I was giggling in anticipation as I closed the bedroom door, leaving it open a bit so that I could hear the goings-on in the next room. Poor Ken! He started by trying to stick her jelly feet in and then pull the tights up. That approach doesn’t work if you’re dressing a cooperative 8 year let alone a baby but Ken, I’m happy to say, has no experience wearing tights himself. (Not that I’m opposed to men wearing tights generally, just my man in particular.) Once I was dressed, I enjoyed a quick look at Ken’s determined and flustered face before offering to help. I was probably laughing. I tried a bit but even together we weren’t up to the task. Fortunately for us, Grandmama suggested that Reid would be warm enough without the tights and I was able to back away from the challenge without (much) loss of face.
Reid has such a great vocabulary and it seems that her pronunciation is getting clearer and more regular every day. There are still some words that she uses that are hard to distinguish sometimes, though. This morning Reid built a fort out of pillows for CareB to play in. She said to me, “Look, Mama, a *#;+(indistinct)”. I had a couple of guesses as to what she had said but have forgotten them because of her response chased them away. Reid said “a barn for animals.” This represents a jump in her language skills, I think. Previously, she has repeated the word we didn’t understand over and over, sometimes with increasing frustration and volume. I like playing amateur linguist. Reid is a great “specimen” to study ;+)
Since we’ve been travelling, Reid has not been adhering to her usual sleep schedule. Read that as I haven’t been providing the conditions that would allow her to do so. While we were waiting on the train platform for that red cap fellow to arrive, Reid asked me to recline her stroller seat so that she could sleep. We didn’t have to wait quite long enough but it set the stage. She has stayed up late and napped late and little, except for that time she fell asleep about 9:30 am and slept about 90 minutes. Many times she has fallen asleep in her car seat. I am more than a little bit impressed that she is able to sleep with her head on her own shoulder without seeming to experience any ill effects. I also admire her ability to stay in good spirits with the sleep disruptions. I’m looking forward to getting back on track and also hoping that she’ll fall asleep right about 7:00 when we’re on the train tonight.
Reid had been sleeping for 8 hours at a stretch most nights in the last month or so. I know some kids do this at 5 or 6 months and Reid it for a week and a half when she was that age but then it stopped. My theory is she got too busy during the day to nurse as much as she needed and that seems to still to be true. Since we’ve been in Toronto, Reid has been waking often. She has also been having particularly vivid dreams. A couple nights ago she was fretting about Patchy-Patch, Binoo’s stuffed animal on the cartoon *Toopy and Binoo*. This morning she was thrashing about and saying, “I push. I push.” I agreed that she could push in a little bit and she subsided back into a calmer sleep.
I have to stop writing about sleeping because it’s making me yawn. Or maybe it’s my own sleep disruptions. Between our running around, staying up late to finish the speaking notes for my presentation and chatting with my big sister, I haven’t been getting my usual sleep either.
It didn’t just start on the train but I’ve noticed while on this trip that Reid thinks “poop” is funny. Sometimes, when we’re walking along or just sitting still, she’ll say “poop!” At first I thought she was saying “boo!” but she helpfully repeated herself, ennunciating clearly. Each time she says “poop”, she grins. Sometimes she chants, “Poopie, poopie, poopie!” And she laughs. Sometimes when someone tells Reid s/he loves her, Reid will say, “I love Daddy” or “I love Mama” instead of “I love you, too.” Yesterday, when Aunt Karin said, “I love you, Reid,” she heard, “I love poop” in response.
We don’t treat poop as a dirty word, no pun intended. I don’t know why Reid thinks it’s funny. Okay, I’m pretty sure that the daycare kids and their older siblings are to blame. We first noticed peer pressure affecting when Reid went to the Toddler Room and suddenly discovered Dora the Explorer but I’m still surprised a bit when it crops up. I’m a slow learner but Reid isn’t, especially when it comes to kid culture.
We’ll just ride it out. My first tactic will be to try to “extinguish by ignoring”. If that doesn’t work, I’ll have to reopen one of the advice books I practically memorized when Reid was small.
We’ve called Daddy on the telephone a few times since we’ve been in Toronto. Each time Reid has eagerly taken her turn talking *at* him. Yes, I know that usually people talk *to* each other on the telephone but Reid has been treating her daddy to a stream of consciousness recitation of all of the fun things that she has done in her day. Without context or shared experience and the speed of the delivery, Daddy has had trouble figuring out what Reid was saying. He could tell that she was having a great time and her enthusiasm was contagious. By the time I got my turn, I could hear the smile in his voice. I hope the photos that we took help her tell the story of her adventures. Daddy doesn’t complain when we leave him behind but it would still be nice to share a bit with him.