Tag Archives: growing up

Girl fight!

I started playing around in Facebook, and have come across some old friends.

Most surprising, well, maybe not if I really think about it, has been catching up with one girl, M, that I played basketball with in high school.

M and I were very on-again, off-again friends.  We were both very competitive (though she definitely had more natural talent at basketball than I did), both very hot-headed, and both very fun-loving and somewhat goofy.  When we got along, we got along really well.  When we didn’t get along, we were at each other’s throats.  We had spells where we were inseparable, and periods where we wouldn’t even look at each other — or where we would, but we would shoot daggers with our eyes.  She’s the only girl I’ve ever really gotten in a physical altercation with, catalyzed by living together for a weekend one summer while we attended a basketball clinic.

Now, we both are married, we both have kids (she has a 1 year-old), and we’ve been writing back and forth via Facebook catching up.  We’re finding the traits that fueled our love/hate relationship in high school are the same ones we’ve dealt with becoming mothers — finding those coping mechanisms so as to not terrorize our children with our tempers, mostly.  But other commonalities, too… finding the balance between our professional lives and motherhood, stuff like that.

Honestly, she’s not someone I’d wondered much about since high school, but as we’re catching up, I’m glad we’ve gotten in touch.  I think part of the reason we were at each other’s throats so much in high school was because we were so similar, but maybe a bit crippled by our own immaturities and adolescent attitudes.

Who said they could grow up?

Lane amazes me nearly every day.

Lately, we’ve found the bedtime ‘routine’ that works best is simply to ask her to get herself into bed, give her permission to turn on her bedside light and tell her she can look at as many books as she likes, then turn off her light whenever she’s ready.

She nearly always picks out about seven or eight books to page through, does this in 10-15 minutes, and then turns the light out and is asleep soon afterwards.

It is just such a grown-up way to do bedtime. It’s how *I* do bedtime most nights. Sigh.

In other news, Jake is 11 months old today. My goodness, where does the time go? He’s got such a vibrant personality, it just makes my heart smile. He is almost constantly happy and giggly. He loves singing, and has started to participate in singing “Row, Row, Row Your Boat” by saying “ro ro ro ro ro ro”. We also add a second verse:

Rock, rock, rock your boat, gently down the stream.

If you see a crocodile, don’t forget to scream! [scream here]

Jake highly anticipates the scream. Gets downright giddy and acts completely impatient if you sing the second verse but leave out the scream.

And he’s walking. Not as his primary mode of transportation, though I suspect by his first birthday he’ll be tooling around all bipedal. For now, he’s stringing together four or five steps at a time, and is just pleased as punch with himself.

Of course, as generally comes with most developmental milestones – and walking is a biggie – he’s not much interested in going to sleep. He fell asleep at 8:00 p.m., and I erroneously thought he was going to bed a little early. Oh no, silly Mommy, that was just a nap. He’s now sitting awake on the couch with his daddy as I write this. Yeah, it’s 1:00 a.m. I tried getting him to sleep a half-hour ago and he’d have nothing to do with it. He must have thought I was pretty funny to try, because all he did was laugh at me.

Separation Anxiety

Not hers, mine.

We had dinner at the in-laws’ tonight.  All in all a mellow, fun time.  Nearing time to leave, we told Lane (as we nearly always do) that she can come home or stay overnight with Grandma and Grandpa.  This time – a first – she chose to stay there.  I’m sure it had partly to do with Grandma bribing her with playing Candy Land.

And she even made Frank and I completely bust a gut as we said goodbye, because her final wave was one of impatience — pretty much waving us off as she started playing Candy Land with Grandma.  It was REALLY funny.

Despite my slightly heavy heart that she wants to stay there, I can also look at it as a developmentally great thing.  She has a trust in her grandparents, and a trust that I will indeed come to get her tomorrow, as promised.   I’ve heard from a few sources, the goal of parenting is to marginalize yourself, to work yourself out of a job.  I guess that means Frank and I must be doing something right.

It almost seems funny, because I can’t even sit here and say that she’s weaned yet.  She certainly does not nurse with any amount of consistency, but still about once a week she’ll ask to nurse, and she gets to nurse for a count of 10.  Half the time she doesn’t even nurse for the full 10 count, but usually she kisses my boob at the end of it.  🙂

Of course, despite all that, I completely reserve the right to miss her a little (or a lot), even if I’m also feeling freed of putting her to bed for a night.