Friday, July 6, 2012

Forty-Four Months (and then some)

Dear Peeper:
You turned forty-four months old (or "three-and-two-thirds" as I've told you to tell people) about a week ago, but since we were in Texas at the time, I'm just now getting around to writing your letter.

It seems that last month, I wrote mostly about your goody habits, so I thought an update on that would be in order. Mostly, you're about the same, but four days in a row this week, you did not nurse first thing in the morning.

On Monday, we were getting ready to head home from Texas. You were up really late the night before, and finally went to sleep around 11 pm. I have no memory of you nursing during the night, but it's possible that  you did (we were sharing a bed, so I might not have woken up enough to realize it).

I got up before you in the morning, to finish up packing, and when you woke, I was sitting on the bed putting my shoes on, so you didn't have to cry for me to come to you, but you also couldn't just roll over and latch on. I picked you up for a snug, and you didn't think to ask before we went potty, and started getting ourselves ready to go.

We were travelling the whole day, and the only time you asked was just as we'd gotten buckled up for the plane to land, which wasn't going to work, so you ended up going about 24 hours before your bedtime goody.

You haven't gone that long without nursing since your surgery, and I haven't gone that long without either nursing or pumping since you were born!

Then, on Tuesday, Mommy heard you call out when you woke up, and she got up so I could sleep in. (Thank you, Mommy!) You were fine with getting up to play with her, and didn't come in to the bedroom looking for goody for an hour or two.

On Wednesday and Thursday both, you woke up around nine (after late nights), and when I took you to the potty, you told me that you were up, and didn't want to go back to bed. Then, about an hour later, you asked to nurse.

Then, last night, you went to bed at a more reasonable hour, but at 5:40 am, you were up for a trip to the potty, and then back to bed for goody. We were both awake for almost an hour, but then we slept and goodied until we had to get up at nine.

So, hell, I don't know what your plan is there. I suspect that if I'd said, "Hey, let's go have some goody in bed!" you would have been game, but I am moving more and more toward "don't offer, don't refuse," and you weren't asking, so I let it go.

I do have to say, though, that whenever it does actually go away, wake-up goody will be the session that I miss the most - because it's the snooze button!

What I won't miss are the middle of the night, back to sleep after potty sessions, and there have been less and less of them lately. Typically, I get you up to potty on my way to bed, and lately, you've been making the trip pretty much in your sleep, and conking right back out when I put you in bed. Then you're almost always good for the night. That I can live with.

You still nurse to sleep every night, of course, although twice recently, Mommy's been able to get you to sleep without much drama when I've been out with friends at (and waaaay past) bedtime, which is really, really nice.

And you usually nurse at least one other time during the day, but not always, and it may be two or three quick drive-bys.

You are definitely well on your way to weaning, which you are doing at your own pace, and which you'll be finished doing in your own time.

Of course, nursing a kid your age, with your mind, is quite an adventure. On the Fourth, we were sitting in the Target parking lot with a bunch of strangers, waiting for the fireworks to start, when we had this conversation:

Mama: Stop wiggling around in my lap, just snug.
Peeper: We can just snug?
Mama: Yes, just snug.
Peeper: We can't get goody?
Mama: Yeah, this isn't really a good goody place.
Peeper: Why?
Mama: Well, remember, goody's kind of private. (This is a new concept that I'm kind of trying to introduce.)
Peeper: I'll keep you covered.
Mama: But you can't see the fireworks, all you'll see is me.
Peeper: We can get goody before the fireworks.
Mama: Well, hell, you've shot holes in every argument I've offered, so c'mon. (As I unhooked my bra.)

This is the way your little brain works.

You are a thinker, and a figure-out-er and a problem-solver.

Even if it's not your problem, you still offer solutions. Many times, Mommy and I have been discussing some grown-up thing, when you say, "Maybe you could . . . " and sometimes you come up with some pretty good suggestions, or at least ones that certainly seem like they'd been good, based on your understanding of the situation.

One day, I said to Mommy something along the lines of, "It's not like everybody can come," and you said, "Yes, everybody can come!" When I said that, no, everybody can't come, you said, "Maybe everybody can take turns."

One evening, I was out of the room while you were bathing and heard you say "I have bubbles!"

When I went to check, you had your bottle of head-to-toe kid wash open and underwater.


I said, "How am I going to bathe you tomorrow?"

You thought a moment and suggested, "Maybe you could pour the water (in the bottle) on me?"

Well, yeah, that was my plan, actually, but I was TRYING to be dramatically rhetorical to make you feel bad about figuring out how to create your own bubble fun.

Don't spoil it with your damn problem-solving skills!

Sometimes you do get a little confused, though.

Mama: Do you want some watermelon?
Peeper: NO!
Mama: Let's try again. Do you want some watermelon?
Peeper: NO!
Mama: Think about how to answer politely. Do you want some watermelon?
Peeper: (thinking, thinking, thinking, then very politely) Mama, please no.

The next day, I had a towel over your head after your bath and:
Peeper: Where are me?
Mama: Where are me? Really?! Try that one again!
Peeper: Please, where are me?

Walking into KMart one day, you looked around and says, "I see a bunch of yucky vinaigrettes on the ground!"


"Yucky vinaigrettes."

"Wha . . . ? Oh! No, Honey, those are yucky CIGARETTES."

"Oh. Does that rhyme?"

One day I went outside where you and Mommy were playing, and you asked me "Are you happy?"

I didn't understand why until I found out that Mommy had just said, "Mama's not going to be happy" that you'd picked some teeny baby peppers from the garden.

So, we had a little talk about not picking them until Mama says it's okay, because if we let the pepper stay on the plant, it will get big and turn red, and THEN we can eat it.

So, you took the pepper back, headed for the door and said, "OK, I'll be right back."

Um, no honey, we can't put it back on the plant!

One day you were playing with my shoes and left them across the room from where I'd put them. Later, you picked one up and said, "Mama! You have lost one shoe!"

Gee, I wonder how that happened?

You're not always so logical, either.

One night, you had a stuffy nose and were waking up hourly. One time when I went in, you were muttering and crying in your semi-sleep, "I don't want purple!"

On the way back to bed after pottying, I asked, "You don't want purple?" and you said, "I DO want purple!"

I have no idea what that was about.

You have great taste in music. On day, I started the car and the radio came on, so I turned it off.

You said, "I want some music."

"Okay, Honey, what do you want to hear?"

"How 'bout 'Ring of Fire?'"

One morning, you set up your drums in the hallway. You were playing when Mommy came out of the bedroom.

You said, "It worked! Mommy woke up!"


You also have great taste.

While trying on shorts at the store, I asked you, "So, how does my booty look in these?"

You said, "Just right!"

While having frappaccinos with Aunt Frappa (!), you were taking more than your fair share of mine, when I suddenly realized something.

Mama (to Frappa): "Did I say decaf?"
Frappa: No. 
Mama: Peeper, that's not decaf.
Peeper: Oh well!

The night that we got home from Texas, I overheard you and Mommy talking while you were jumping on the bed.

Peeper: I'm having fun!
Mommy: You'd better stop that. There will be no fun-having in this house!
Peeper: Here goes some fun! Fun! Fun! Fun!

Sometimes it seems that you've learned a bit too much from us. One day you were playing with a musical birthday card from, oh, 8 months ago. It's not playing right anymore, so you said, "This card is a pain in the patootie!"

A couple of days ago, you sprayed your tangle remover all over your computer monitor, and proceeded to try to "wipe" it off with your comb. When I told you not to do that, you said, "But I'm trying to clean off this frickin' thing!"

You are also very into dressing up in rather elaborate costumes of your own design (such as Santa or Doctor or Bee or Prince) and acting out the stories we've read or watched or ones that you've just made up all on your own. 

I've learned to ask from time to time, "Who are you?" so I don't get in trouble for calling you by the wrong name!

I've also learned to talk to (and for) any number of inanimate objects around the house, because that's the best way to get you to do something.

Mostly, I've learned that you're still getting more and more amazing each and every day.

But that's really not news.

I love you, little girl.


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