We’re going to Aruba in a week and a half with the in-laws. Yes, I’m excited about going to Aruba… not quite as excited about spending 8 solid days with my in-laws but I’d rather be in Aruba with them than here in the cold without them.
Lane is going down with them, two days before we go. We’re talking up how she’s going to go to the beach with Grandma and Grandpa and how much fun she’s going to have, and all in all I think it will be good.
Tonight and tomorrow night, though, we’re doing a sleepover trial run, where she’s spending tonight and tomorrow night at the in-laws’. Despite missing her a bit, I certainly don’t need the trial run. When we suggested it to the in-laws, it was intended with two purposes – for Lane to experience two nights away from us before she has to do it a five-hour plane ride away from us, and for the in-laws to get a feel for what it’s like to spend 48 straight hours with Lane, without a break except at night. For either part of the equation, I’d like them to experience any kinks now, when we’re just a phone call and a 4 minute drive away.
And… just maybe… I can get the house cleaned up tomorrow too. Jake doesn’t have the knack for utter destruction that his sister has. But he does like to put his feet in the dog’s water an awful lot.
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.