This Autumn has been wonderful. One of my goals for today (before I saw the forecast for rain) was to rake the leaves in the yard and allow Lilah to frolic in them for the first time. I was very upset because the giant tree in our backyard has so many leaves and I was only okay with the inevitability of raking millions of them because I'd get to see the colors change first. However, as the season progressed I saw the leaves change from bright green to dark green to dirty orangeish brown. I narrow my eyes at the tree whenever I look out into my backyard. I feel cheated. Like it knew all along and should have mentioned something.
Today was my bi-monthly mandatory *cough* bullshit *cough* meeting. Lilah and I went in the back employee door and I clocked in, only to find that the meeting was held in the front lobby. We have a very long building. It took 13 minutes to get where we were going. She stopped and talked to everyone along the way. She hugged Ananya from PT, she waved to patients and family members, she poked her head into offices to check for inhabitants.
I took Lilah with me because mostly when she's there people fawn over her rather than hold the meeting so I shave about 20 minutes off the time I spend at work on my day off. It worked like a charm. I really have no idea what the meeting was about and neither does anyone else. I repeated her name, age, height, weight, and favorite foods about 27 times, and everyone knows lots of fun things about her. Mission accomplished.
After the meeting we waited in the lobby for Dano to pick us up and Lilah peered into the pumpkins and said, "A ball, Mama!" I kept telling her they were pumpkins but she kept looking at me like I was crazy. They were big, round, and orange. They were clearly balls. After an exuberant greeting for everyone in the lobby, she watched the birds in the cage for a moment before spotting a 3 foot wooden statue of Sister Catherine of the Irish Sisters of Mercy Foundation, the founders of the Trinity Health System I work for. Lilah cautiously approached Sister Catherine (a thin, pale figure in dark garb and hood with a mouth that looks as if it had sampled a lemon recently drawn up into a wan smile). Lilah cocked her head to the side and said, "Hi!" They were eye to eye. Sister Catherine said nothing, moved not a wooden muscle, only stared her stately, frozen stare. Lilah offered several more "Hi!"s with no change noted in Sister Catherine's response. Lilah was not to be deterred from conquering even the most unamused person in the building. She threw her arms around Sister Catherine's spare frame in a carefree and loving embrace. Several things happened simultaneously in that moment. Lilah's weight shifted forward as she stood on her tiptoes to really give this hug her all. Sister Catherine teetered back on her base, then tipped forward into Lilah's waiting (albeit unprepared) little arms. Lilah's expression changed instantly from the wild ecstasy ("Hug, Mama!") to concern ("Uh-oh!") to utter panic ("Aaah!") as the unfortunate duo toppled to the floor. I was laughing hysterically as the other people in the lobby watched on in horror and concern. As with any other fall Lilah Rose experiences, I let her reaction dictate mine (even though I've bitten through my own lip not crying out and running to pick her up before). If she cries, I pick her up to comfort her. If she gets up and carries on, I don't do a thing. But she always looks at me first to see my face. My eyes met my daughter's (Sister Catherine's unfortunate eyes were buried in Lilah's sternum) and Lilah said, "Sorry, Mama!" I just laughed and helped her up, setting the likely-mortified Sister Catherine back upright. Lilah gave her one more pat on the shoulder and said goodbye to her before taking my hand and walking...right into the glass door.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Saturday, October 2, 2010
Compromises and crackers
Lilah and I had yet another day of errands. Dano offered to keep her home, and I was surprised. I'd honestly rather go with her than have her at home without me. She's my little friend, and we have fun when we're together. First we went to Plato's Closet to look for an anniversary date outfit for me. She was very well behaved at first. She pointed to an attractive pair of brown boots and said, "Shoes!" I fell in love with them and picked them up. I picked out three sweater dresses to try on and found a fitting room. As soon as I put Lilah down, she shouted, "Baby!" and ran headlong into the mirror. Christened with a fresh red mark on her forehead, she explored the small room while I tried on the dresses. I chose two I liked best and set about getting dressed again. I was pulling my shirt over my head when I heard, "Bye, Mama." I tugged it down frantically and looked around the room. No small daughter. She had slithered under the gap in the door. I grabbed my things and rushed out into the store. Lilah had tracked down a small child and was hugging the life out of it. I rescued the poor boy and led her away, counseling her on the dangers of small people rushing out into the world without their mamas.
We put our purchases on the counter and Lilah insisted on handing my debit card to the cashier, who thought her precocious. We left and walked down the sidewalk to Joann Fabrics. Lilah tugged her little hand out of mine and made a dash for the parking lot. I used my best "stern" voice and said her name very seriously. She stopped in her tracks and I told her, "No way. You know that." She sat her butt on the curb and refused to walk. I carried her into Joann's and plopped her in a cart. She helped me choose a warm yellow and an attractive brown fleece for her Halloween costume. While waiting in line for the fabric to be cut, she got impatient. "Up, Mama." I picked her up and she tried to wriggle down. We call it her jellyfish move. She goes all limp and spineless (anyone who's ever tried carrying a reluctant toddler knows the move well) so it's like trying to hold onto water. It makes it nearly impossible to keep a hold on her. So I sat her down in the cart again and gave her my keys. The threw them defiantly on the ground and narrowed her eyes brazenly at me. "Uh oh." I counted to three in my head and picked up the keys, putting them back in my purse. She whined. "All done, Mama!" She whined a few times. I looked at her, trying to read her mind. I can never tell exactly how much she understands me, but I'm firmly committed to always treating her like a person. If she doesn't understand today, she might tomorrow. She's not stupid, and she just might comprehend more than I'm aware of. Some of her chattering might not be mindless baby babble based on what she hears. So I gave it a shot after another deep breath.
"Lilah Rose, I know you're not happy but it isn't a store for sweet little babies. Mama has this one thing to do, and then we're leaving for the next store. If you can be a patient little girl for Mama for a few minutes, you may have a cracker when after we leave." I appealed to her stomach, since it was 6:00 and I knew she was getting hungry. She looked at me and sighed. She asked to be picked up once more, and I held her. She calmly watched the older woman measure the fleece. She cocked her head and asked the woman, "Hotdog?" I told her that the woman was their to help with Lilah's Halloween costume, and did not have any hotdogs on hand. The woman noticed a tiny stain on the yellow fleece and went to find a pristine bolt instead. I told her it was unnecessary and she waved me off. I thought, "Oh dear God, I'm pushing my baby to the limit of her patience and hunger. That lady better run." The rest of the experience went off without a hitch, however. She found an unstained bolt and cut our fabric. We checked out and Lilah asked the cashier if she had a hotdog. The cashier looked confused. I could feel Lilah fidget and wiggle in my arms, and her repeated queries for food let me know she was hungry, but she had stopped acting up completely and I honestly wondered if she understood me. A woman in line had looked at me like I'd just snorted a line off my diaper bag when I had that talk with Lilah. People often do, but she's a human being, not a puppy or a teletubby. I respect her as a human and she (more often than not) respects me as a Mama.
We left and I gave her a big hug and told her how proud I was of her and thanked her for being such a good little girl. She said, "Cracker, Mama?" I kissed her cheek and wheeled her into Target and immediately picked up a small package of Goldfish crackers. She squealed and started eating them up, dancing in her seat. I talked to Dano about it, and we both agreed that she probably had a fair grasp on what I told her, even if she didn't get every nuance. She got the overall gist of the conversation and she responded. I have a good baby who just keeps getting better with age. Like wine. Or cheese.
We put our purchases on the counter and Lilah insisted on handing my debit card to the cashier, who thought her precocious. We left and walked down the sidewalk to Joann Fabrics. Lilah tugged her little hand out of mine and made a dash for the parking lot. I used my best "stern" voice and said her name very seriously. She stopped in her tracks and I told her, "No way. You know that." She sat her butt on the curb and refused to walk. I carried her into Joann's and plopped her in a cart. She helped me choose a warm yellow and an attractive brown fleece for her Halloween costume. While waiting in line for the fabric to be cut, she got impatient. "Up, Mama." I picked her up and she tried to wriggle down. We call it her jellyfish move. She goes all limp and spineless (anyone who's ever tried carrying a reluctant toddler knows the move well) so it's like trying to hold onto water. It makes it nearly impossible to keep a hold on her. So I sat her down in the cart again and gave her my keys. The threw them defiantly on the ground and narrowed her eyes brazenly at me. "Uh oh." I counted to three in my head and picked up the keys, putting them back in my purse. She whined. "All done, Mama!" She whined a few times. I looked at her, trying to read her mind. I can never tell exactly how much she understands me, but I'm firmly committed to always treating her like a person. If she doesn't understand today, she might tomorrow. She's not stupid, and she just might comprehend more than I'm aware of. Some of her chattering might not be mindless baby babble based on what she hears. So I gave it a shot after another deep breath.
"Lilah Rose, I know you're not happy but it isn't a store for sweet little babies. Mama has this one thing to do, and then we're leaving for the next store. If you can be a patient little girl for Mama for a few minutes, you may have a cracker when after we leave." I appealed to her stomach, since it was 6:00 and I knew she was getting hungry. She looked at me and sighed. She asked to be picked up once more, and I held her. She calmly watched the older woman measure the fleece. She cocked her head and asked the woman, "Hotdog?" I told her that the woman was their to help with Lilah's Halloween costume, and did not have any hotdogs on hand. The woman noticed a tiny stain on the yellow fleece and went to find a pristine bolt instead. I told her it was unnecessary and she waved me off. I thought, "Oh dear God, I'm pushing my baby to the limit of her patience and hunger. That lady better run." The rest of the experience went off without a hitch, however. She found an unstained bolt and cut our fabric. We checked out and Lilah asked the cashier if she had a hotdog. The cashier looked confused. I could feel Lilah fidget and wiggle in my arms, and her repeated queries for food let me know she was hungry, but she had stopped acting up completely and I honestly wondered if she understood me. A woman in line had looked at me like I'd just snorted a line off my diaper bag when I had that talk with Lilah. People often do, but she's a human being, not a puppy or a teletubby. I respect her as a human and she (more often than not) respects me as a Mama.
We left and I gave her a big hug and told her how proud I was of her and thanked her for being such a good little girl. She said, "Cracker, Mama?" I kissed her cheek and wheeled her into Target and immediately picked up a small package of Goldfish crackers. She squealed and started eating them up, dancing in her seat. I talked to Dano about it, and we both agreed that she probably had a fair grasp on what I told her, even if she didn't get every nuance. She got the overall gist of the conversation and she responded. I have a good baby who just keeps getting better with age. Like wine. Or cheese.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)