Sophie has developed a rather alarming bedtime routine since returning from Indiana. When we put her to bed, our normally easy-to-sleep child now wails at the top of her lungs until we go back in to her. It doesn't seem to matter how long we wait her out (believe me, we've tried); she will not relent. We were bringing her out to the living room for awhile before putting her back in the crib, but the last few nights I've gone in and rocked her. She calms down the minute I pick her up. I don't have to sing or make soothing sounds. In fact, she doesn't even really need the rocking. She just settles onto my lap with her head on my shoulder, breathing deeply as she clings to me. And we stay that way, her and me, for 15 minutes or so. About the time I feel myself falling asleep, I lay her back down. She cries for maybe 30 seconds, then dozes off.
In general, she's been a bear to be around the last few weeks. She's teething, and I suppose that's what has altered her sleep patterns as well as her mood. Or it could be something else; who knows? We don't have much choice but to ride it out. Her outlandish moodiness, fits of anger and penchant for blood-curdling screams are driving Chris and I around the bend, but I don't mind her recent bedtime freak-outs nearly as much. Truth be told, I relish that time with her in the dark, holding her tight. Thankfully both my girls are snugglers, because a child stingy with affection would break my heart! I'm grateful that Sophie and Emma need lots of hugs and kisses to get them through the day. But they don't often
burrow in any more - do you know what I mean? The intense physical connection and need that a mother shares with breastfeeding babies all but disappears by the time toddlerhood comes around. The last few nights with Sophie have felt reminiscent of that earlier time, and I've thoroughly enjoyed those lovely, precious moments.
Plus, the memory of Sophie's warm skin and soft breath as we sit in the quiet of her room helps sustain me when she's shrieking "NO!" and hitting me in the face or flinging herself on the floor...which lately is about 85% of the day. Gotta love the Terrible 2's, huh?
I love the look on Sophie's face as she holds on tight to Emma. The next time they try to kill each other, I'm gonna stick this pic in their face and shout, "See? SEE! THIS is love! Ripping each others' hair out? NOT love!"
Yep, she's definitely a two-year-old.
(Translation: "You have to go to the Walgreens to get medicine to take home.")
The school is hosting a formal presentation Tuesday where the kids get to show off all their hard work, and Chris has been testing Em to make sure she has all the names and facts down. Unfortunately parents aren't invited to the presentation, because I wish Chris could be there. Honestly, I'm not sure who is more proud of themselves - Emma or Chris!
Happy New Year!
This woman has 30 kids in her class! Maybe this is SOP for schoolteachers and I just don't realize it? All I know is that I don't remember getting any gifts from my teachers way back in the day, although admittedly my memory is only slightly better than Dory's. Either way, I think it's pretty cool that Mrs. P. used her very valuable time and money to make a personal keepsake for each member of her class. It makes me feel like Emma is in good hands with a teacher that cares enough to do something like this for her students, you know?
In case you can't tell from her lovely facial expressions (or lack thereof), dubiousness was Sophie's response of choice throughout the entire experience. But she did not scream, or cry, or pull away - or even wriggle around. Considering Sophie's aversion to strangers, we were expecting more of a...well, a reaction from her. However, we were mistaken; she simply sat and endured. She obeyed all commands (ie, "look down," "look up," "look straight," etc.) and otherwise stayed as still as a stone. The only time she made a peep was to ask occasionally, "Almost done?"
