You wake up and we hang out in bed for a few minutes, then you say "play in room!" which means that I should get up immediately and open the black out blinds so we can start our day. I open them while you hop up and down on the bed. Then you get a book from your book shelf, or ask me to get more books from your closet (even though I've told you over and over again that they're not there anymore). I sit on the bed and you plop in my lap and I read to you. Sometimes I read you a few more books but usually it's just one before you say "go.in.there!" pointing at the bedroom door.
If Daddy is home you rush in there to wake him up. You climb up on the bed and climb over him. Sometimes you ask to see pictures (home videos of yourself) or tell Daddy to "play in room!" and expect him to follow you immediately.
If Daddy's at work we go into the living room to read and you ask for cold oatmeal. You ask for it cold because I've given you leftovers so often now you've come to expect it to be ready instantly and you're no longer interested in cooking it with me. While I'm getting your oatmeal you pick out a book and bring it to me in the kitchen, urging me to read it to you. I bring the oatmeal and your water and put them down by the record player. You carefully pick up your cup and glass bowl, squeezing them together, and walk so slowly to me. We never talk about it but I can tell that you're so proud to be able to carry them together successfully now. You sit in my lap eating breakfast while I read and re-read your favorite books.
Tuesday, April 9, 2013
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
Our mornings at 2 years old
In the last late morning hours, when you wake up, and you're still warm and snuggly, you love to burst out with "pooooor kitten!" or "luuuuucky kitten!" or "oh snuggle kitten." You stretch and roll around and I nuzzle your head and hold your warm feet in my hands. I whisper quotes from your favorite books in your ears and you nuzzle back and laugh. Then you quickly sit up and look and point to the door. You want me to carry you to the kitchen for breakfast. I carry you because it's cold and you refuse socks and soft slippers. Daddy turns on the heater for us so you don't shiver so much while I'm making breakfast.
I ask if you want oatmeal or waffles and most days you say oatmeal, because it's your favorite thing. As I make the oatmeal you play with the timer on the stove or dig your hand around in the Kitchen Aid mixer. When I pour the grains into the measuring cup you put out your hand to help pour them into the pot. You pour the water into the pot too. If we're making waffles you hold on to them for a bit, chewing on one until part of it is mushy with slobber before you put it in the toaster. You press down the lever on the toaster too and wait. You wait patiently now, because we've done this so many times. You know it takes a few minutes. I get the almond butter from the fridge and you bang your feet on the counter and say "James...kniiiiffffa (knife)" as you have for months. You mean it to be demanding but it's too adorable to discourage. I give you your own knife and you dig it around in the almond butter jar until you've gathered a satisfactory sample--or two or three. As I mix in the banana you say "still mixing!" as a reminder to yourself to wait. I get the big cinnamon (I buy it in giant containers now because we use so much at breakfast) and you pour it on the oatmeal. Sometimes you intentionally sprinkle a bit on the counter and you always ask for a napkin to clean it up.
We used to eat at the table, you in your high chair and me in my big chair but you decided you were done with that months ago. You sit on my lap now, or we take our food over to our cozy mattress in the dining room so we can read Good Morning Sam while we eat. If you spill any food you stop everything and whimper until I clean it up for you. Nothing can convince you to clean it up yourself or go on with the mess still there. Your hands must stay clean too or you'll ask for a napkin.
We read our books, then we go into the living room to read some more. Lately the first book you request is always Bear Has a Story to Tell. You love flipping from the first page to the last and saying "another one!" because the pages are the same. I do voices for the animals and you love to copy mouse in a high pitched voice. "I'm sorry bear (said) mouse." We kept the small artificial Christmas tree in the living room because you love the lights. Now you want to help plug it in so we move the chair cushion so you can get close to the outlet. I do the final plugging in for you. Quiet Bunny is almost always your next request. This is one of your favorites that has been going strong for a good 6 months. You still love for me to tweet in your ear and you make the shhhhhhh sounds of the leaves rustling in the breeze. Your new favorite thing is to say "no sound" when Quiet Bunny is flapping his arms and his ears. You shake your head solemnly when you say it but with a small smile on your lips. We might read two or three or ten more books before you (or I) say "we're going to..." and we begin our adventure to the park or Mother's Market (or frequently both) for the day.
I ask if you want oatmeal or waffles and most days you say oatmeal, because it's your favorite thing. As I make the oatmeal you play with the timer on the stove or dig your hand around in the Kitchen Aid mixer. When I pour the grains into the measuring cup you put out your hand to help pour them into the pot. You pour the water into the pot too. If we're making waffles you hold on to them for a bit, chewing on one until part of it is mushy with slobber before you put it in the toaster. You press down the lever on the toaster too and wait. You wait patiently now, because we've done this so many times. You know it takes a few minutes. I get the almond butter from the fridge and you bang your feet on the counter and say "James...kniiiiffffa (knife)" as you have for months. You mean it to be demanding but it's too adorable to discourage. I give you your own knife and you dig it around in the almond butter jar until you've gathered a satisfactory sample--or two or three. As I mix in the banana you say "still mixing!" as a reminder to yourself to wait. I get the big cinnamon (I buy it in giant containers now because we use so much at breakfast) and you pour it on the oatmeal. Sometimes you intentionally sprinkle a bit on the counter and you always ask for a napkin to clean it up.
We used to eat at the table, you in your high chair and me in my big chair but you decided you were done with that months ago. You sit on my lap now, or we take our food over to our cozy mattress in the dining room so we can read Good Morning Sam while we eat. If you spill any food you stop everything and whimper until I clean it up for you. Nothing can convince you to clean it up yourself or go on with the mess still there. Your hands must stay clean too or you'll ask for a napkin.
We read our books, then we go into the living room to read some more. Lately the first book you request is always Bear Has a Story to Tell. You love flipping from the first page to the last and saying "another one!" because the pages are the same. I do voices for the animals and you love to copy mouse in a high pitched voice. "I'm sorry bear (said) mouse." We kept the small artificial Christmas tree in the living room because you love the lights. Now you want to help plug it in so we move the chair cushion so you can get close to the outlet. I do the final plugging in for you. Quiet Bunny is almost always your next request. This is one of your favorites that has been going strong for a good 6 months. You still love for me to tweet in your ear and you make the shhhhhhh sounds of the leaves rustling in the breeze. Your new favorite thing is to say "no sound" when Quiet Bunny is flapping his arms and his ears. You shake your head solemnly when you say it but with a small smile on your lips. We might read two or three or ten more books before you (or I) say "we're going to..." and we begin our adventure to the park or Mother's Market (or frequently both) for the day.
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