Today I woke up not feeling so awesome, kind of under the weather and really tired. It was 5:30, and I layed in bed hoping to fall back asleep. Too many things in my head. At 7 I heard Rose calling for me. She slept in! “Mama! Mama!” She always starts the day on a positive note–how do children feel so great when they wake up? I turned on Sesame Street and fell onto the couch to let myself drift a little longer. Shortly after Rose was requesting a samich (sandwich). “How about breakfast?” I ask. “Bekpist!” And she bopped into the kitchen. When toddlers run, it seems to have that effect; their little bodies go up and down a lot. Is it those short leggies? When I run, I imagine it’s a lot smoother, like a gazelle. But hey, I probably look more like a toddler than I want to admit to myself. SO I decided on instant oatmeal. Because Rosie’s digestive system needs all the help it can get. And that was totally rejected. She purses her mouth shut, turns her chin down, and looks up at me with those eyes, daring me to a challenge. So then I try to play it off like it’s my oatmeal because nothing makes her more jealous than watching me eat my food and her not getting any. My plan does not work this time. So I decided to give her the option of no breakfast, which was rejected. So then, she decided to let me feed it to her. Good choice, Rose. She is looking so serious at breakfast today. Big eyes. So much going on in that little head. She eats the oatmeal, then we watch a little more tv while I mess around with my phone. Then I give her the option of a walk or swimming. Both are rejected (starting to notice a pattern?) I realize my stroller is in Raimo’s car, so swimming it is. I get changed. “Nakey bum,” she points out for me. Yep, I think all my dignity is pretty much gone. But it’s funny and it makes me laugh every time she says it. I guess I must say it to her when she’s naked and I’m oohing and ahing over her squishy baby self.
There are no more swim diapers. So I decide to risk it because she doesn’t usually do her business when we’re not at home. Swimsuit with no diaper. Nice times at the hot tub. The water’s way to hot for a warm morning, but neither of us will touch the pool, so hot tub it is. She pulls the cover off for me, requests the bubbles (which I turn on), and we put our feet in. A little playtime happens, then she gets quiet and is squeezing her fists and I realize the oatmeal may have done its job. I quickly spring out of the water (in graceful pregnant fashion) and we head into the little bathroom, where Rose begins to scream because she realizes we are headed to the toilet. She continues to holler as loud as possible (it is very echo-y and there are fellow residents living on either side), and when I sit her on the toilet it becomes complete terrorized screaming. I hug her and rub her back. “Keep trying!” No luck. A complete and total tantrum. We go back outside and she is still screaming. “Do you want to go back home?” The screaming stops instantly. “Yes.” She opens the gate and calmly starts to walk back as I am scrambling to get the cover back on and collect toys and towels and keys.
We get back home and head for the tub–she is deposited, and I try to shake off the frustration of all the screaming of the morning. It really grates at my nerves. I read half a chapter of the BOM. She is ready to get out. I wash her, she screams all the while. I wash her hair and the screaming triples. We get her wrapped in a towel which she likes, but she resumes loud crying and protesting as I get her dressed. “We do this every day, Rose. You have to wear a diaper and clothes.” I think I’m talking to myself more than her. Whatever. She stops crying when I put her in front of Elmo again so I can take a shower. Bless you, you tiny red monster. I realize it’s 10:38 and I should be leaving right away for Sisters in Scriptures. I take a shower anyway, get dressed, and we’re out by 11:05. Rose is protesting about shoes and about leaving in general, but I appease her with promises of Jo Jo at nursery (her second cousin who is also 2). I make both of us a pb&j because this is just what we need at that moment. We talk about Jo for most of the drive and eat on the way. Everyone is going 35 mph and I’m not too happy. We arrive at 11:20. I’m very late. I get Rose out of the car. “Hold you,” she requests. Sure. She sits atop my belly, basically. It is not so comfortable. “I love you very much, Rose.” “I love holding you,” she replies. “I love you holding me too.” I have a happy mama moment. I drop off Rose at the nursery, she screams, I walk away, and she is fine. I sit down in the class for 30 minutes, breathe, enjoy it, and wish it were longer.
Afterward, we say hello to my cousin and aunt, pry Rose from Jo Jo, and run some shopping errands. She is pretty well-behaved considering it is nap time. I won’t go into detail on the shopping fun. When we get home, she books it away from me because it is nap time. Commence pregnant lady run. I get back into jammies, she gets milk and stories, then bed.
I have been decompressing and eating toffee peanuts and just doing my thing. I love nap time. Thankfully she is actually sleeping today. If I get ambitious, I might make no-bake cookies because I have been thinking about them for weeks. But maybe not. Toddler Rose is much more of a roller coaster than baby Rose, although there were stressful times there too. Good thing she is so darn sweet in between times.