Dear Reese,
Today, I mis-add 11+3, twice, and then get poop all over your back and hair when I take your blowout-soaked onesie off over your head. Is this what mom brain is?
It might have something to do with the 3 am cries last night. Eventually I stay in your room with you until morning, dozing in and out and removing my arm as your pillow when it falls asleep.
At least I really can blame teething this time. I give you a dose of Tylenol before your morning nap and again tonight before bed to take the edge off.
I start the day with as much energy as possible to shake off the restless night. I get dressed, make the beds, start the laundry, cook us eggs and Eggos, and carry you around while I vacuum. Every little chore gives me a little more space in my head. You play while I putz, but while I’m at the kitchen sink, you surprise me by showing up at my feet. I had mentally placed you on your playmat, a kitchen island and a couch away. I gasp and this makes you laugh.
As part of your morning exploration, you revisit the cat door that goes into the utility room. Perhaps I shouldn’t video when you fuss, but I am a little charmed that you were upset that you couldn’t get through.
It’s a good day, darling. We hang out in the children’s room at the library for the first time, and a 7-year-old named Brooks comes over to show you a book about Goldilocks and the three dinosaurs (poor Goldilocks is in the wrong story!). He then finds an elephant puppet and makes a very good elephant sound for you. I do not know how to make an elephant sound. MorMor and I chat with him and his dad for a while — locals who’ve come to the library every Saturday since Brooks was your age — while you scoot around the room.
Before we leave, you stand at the Thomas the Tank Engine train table and MorMor makes a complete loop out of the tracks. I am more interested in this than you, these are the trains of my childhood, but you like tasting whatever you get your hands on, so I think it’s a good time all around. I can’t wait until we play trains and Legos and Barbies together when you’re a little older.
You practice getting on your hands and knees more this afternoon, holding the position for longer as you consider how to move your body next. Though it doesn’t matter if you ever crawl, you’re getting around fine. Cappi helps you stand and practice walking when he gets home from work. He did the same thing when I was a baby, he says. I never crawled myself, instead becoming a wobbly walker at 9 months. I think I ended up with a lot of bumps and bruises, so take your time.
Love,
Mama