sweetness

I’m ready for the end of cold weather. We had a glimpse at the sun yesterday (and there is more today! And it is supposed to be in the high 40s by after work! I might sweat!), and there were a few chilly minutes of sunny after work tosses of the baseball with Arden on the driveway to get me even more ready for full on after work/school family walks, dinners outside, and playing in the driveway with the entire fleet of kid mobiles and neighbors. I’m worn out from cold.

In the meantime, my little baby keeps growing up. In the past few months, she’s potty trained herself (she occasionally has accidents, occasionally will pee for candy, but she’s almost got this thing, even through naps and night. Crazy.), her language keeps exploding, and her sense of comedic timing is getting sharper. Yesterday, she decided that she was ready for a big kid bed. We don’t actually have one ready for her, so we took the side off of her crib (it was made to turn into a toddler bed), and she was THRILLED. She tried to tell us that she was big enough to stop wearing a bib at dinner, and to stop having her white noise machine on for sleeping, but we told her “just one big change at a time.” When I went in to check on her before going to bed my self, that sweet peaceful face was sound asleep, arms above her head, slight grin on her face. Comfortable.

Neither of our kids were good at sleeping when they were fresh from the womb. Or, frankly, way past fresh from the womb. I often joke that the almost six years between them was so that I could catch up on my sleep. Now, Arden is a sleeping champ, but Trudy still gets up to party well before dawn. I am a little concerned that the no crib thing will make mornings even trickier, but we will see.

As I watched her last night, though, I remembered those days of her crib in our room, and our ridiculous army crawling to bed because if she detected any movement, she’d be screaming. Now, I can walk into her room, unplug her nightlight, and watch her for a while. Big girl.

She’s also big in different ways. She’s started to like taking showers (“I big. I take a shower”), so I wash her hair and scrub her down (while staying as dry as possible), and then sit and watch her play through the glass door. Recently, she asks for a little soap, and she goes over her whole body–seems she thinks I might have missed a spot. And, after I read her three books to her, she likes to read them back to me. “Read,” but whatever. I love it. Last week, I was really sleepy, and had closed my eyes during the last book. She climbed onto my lap, put her arms around my neck, gently kissed my mouth, and then in one of my favorite things she’s ever done, proceeded to stroke my hair, pushing it away from my face ever so gently over and over. She knows how to take care. It has now become a part of our nightly ritual. After she reads, “I pat your hair?” Always, sweet Trudy, always. 

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