Where has this past month gone? I feel like I just wrote your twenty-four month newsletter and here we are almost a week past when you became twenty-five months. But it was such a busy week; it is no surprise to me that I neglected to get it written.
People see you all of the time, at the store and at Rhayn’s school. You cling to me, in my arms, in a sling, holding my leg. Only in the past few weeks have you started to come out of your shell.
Today we were greeted by a parent of one of the boys in Rhayn’s class. She also has a four year old who adores you. You looked at her, as asked “where K?” She stopped and looked at you like you were a foreign object, like a pencil had stood up and started doing a jig on the picnic table where we sat. She leaned down and talked to you for a few minutes, totally engrossed by your verbal skills. “Wow, I have never heard her talk before,” she exclaims. We are constantly in awe of those skills you have accumulated, too. Your speech gets better day by day, because you have become “the repeater.” We say anything and you parrot it back to us. Maybe I should have been a pirate for Halloween, and you could have sat on my shoulder and repeated everything I said.
The terrible twos are upon us. In. Full. Force. It is like suddenly a switch will flip and my sweet little girl, who had been snuggled in my arms one moment, is terrorizing a store. You run, you laugh hysterically, you tell me “no” and “stop it” with such a fervor that I want to scream. Some days you will refuse to nap. Flat out refuse. It seems to coincide with me needing a little bit of time to myself.
I am working on night weaning, still. I tried and failed a few times. My sleep seemed more important than getting you to sleep without a nipple in your mouth part of the night. I do not want to break the spell, but I have had two nights (so far) that I have been able to nurse you, and then allow you to fall asleep on your own. One night I was actually able to keep you from nursing until about six when I wanted you to go back into a deep sleep so that I could get up and enjoy a cup of coffee and NPR in silence. You slept until after seven, and it made our morning go a lot more smoothly. I have been working on telling you “All done” when I am ready to get up while you are nursing. Now I will say that at night, too. I have also started telling you that “Gup goes to sleep when it is dark.” I need it to work, I need you to understand that I am still here if you need me, but “gup” is asleep.
Sometimes I think I am totally ready to be done nursing, and then other times, I feel like we could do it forever. I think that you have pretty much cut down to only a few times a day, and a few more at night. It makes me sad that you are getting so big, and independent. Yet, there are moments when you come to me, blue eyes wide and teary, to have “gup” and I see my baby in you still. Then you climb out of my lap, say “All done” and run off to play, my big girl. Love forever,