It's official. Lily is breaking up with me...well, my boob anyway. I'm trying not to take it personally. I know it's not me, it's her. We just want different things. She's found someone else that makes her heart go pitter patter...or rather, her tummy. So much so, that I can't even put away the clean bottles out of the dishwasher without her having a conniption fit. So I'm trying to let go...we are officially weaning. Much slower than my cold turkey with Andrew. But still headed down that road. And I'm sad. But I figure I'll be like this for every milestone Lily reaches, from weaning to graduating high school. My baby.
Andrew is so darn cute. We were sitting outside looking at the clouds a few days ago. I used to say what shape I saw, and he'd agree, or make up something really ridiculous that was nothing like the cloud. He just didn't get it. He gets it now. He was seeing some really cool things in these big fluffy clouds. And yet, he still doesn't get humor just right. Here's an excerpt of our conversation:
A- Hey Mom! That cloud looks like Kentucky! (and it really did...so smart).
G- Wow! It really is shaped like Kentucky. Let's wave and say hi to our friends, 'Hi guys! We miss you!'
A- (a disgusted look on his face, accompanied by a condescending tone) It's just tender Kentucky, Mom.
Today we were pirates. We made a trail of arrows on the ground heading to our treasure (x marks the spot), we rowed our boat here and their (our porch swing served as our vessel), we fought pirates with our stick swords, and just generally ran around like crazy people (Lily was napping). I was making up names of the pirates we had to fight and what terrible things they did to deserve a severe butt kicking. Really original ones like Davy Jones and Black Jack and Captain Hook. Andrew began contributing names when I started running out...like Crayonie Drayonie (he bites cheeks off) and Color Droller (he melts houses). But after about 45 minutes...let's be honest...15 minutes, I began really wishing he had a friend his own age to play with. Of course, at 3, they would be fighting and tantrums because each wanted to do things their own way. But someday, right? For now, I'm just dreaming of some playground equipment for our backyard. It's pathetic that he just plays with this rinky dink slide we have. I know I'm dreaming to think that play equipment will deter him from wanting to play with me. What's a swing when your mom is willing to be a swashbuckling pirate?
Which brings me to my number one lesson that my brain refuses to learn. Before you do something fun with your 3 year old, think about how fun it will be after the 100th repetition, and then decide whether to introduce it or not. Imagining cloud shapes? Fun, relaxing, not difficult. Running around the yard as a pirate? Maybe not something I'm going to want to do every spare second for the next week.
3 comments:
That is exactly why we do not have a sandbox in our yard. Harper loves the one at the park, and we do go to the park, but she totally accepts that I will not take her to the park every moment of every day. However, a sandbox in our back yard? I'd fully expect to have to camp next to the thing, so reluctant would Harper be to ever leave it!
Oh my gosh! I would think my Gigi would be in heaven "tendering". Only you would think of playing pirate. Maybe Andrew will write the next great novel from that enormous imagination. Good job Mom.
Oh how glad I was to see the "real" time of your pretend play. I'm doing great to last 15 before wishing I was doing anything else.
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