Every morning when I drop Adeleigh off at daycare, I find myself lingering around, squeezing in as many hugs and kisses until the last possible minute before the work day. The routine usually consists of her walking back and forth between me and the toys about three times before I'm satisfied enough to finally peel myself away and leave.
She's been reaching all kinds of milestones recently, growing up faster than I'm prepared for. Crawling is too 1990's for her, she's now a speed walker. She speaks sentences, saying "Tee-too, Momma" (Thank you) or "I yuh-oo" (I love you) or "bi-do-rar-na-dee" (?????)
Last week at daycare, we reached a new milestone together. I was doing my usual linger, talking to our daycare lady, while Adeleigh was playing on the other side of the room with the toys. In behind me walked Adeleigh's little friend who's two months younger than she is. All the adults in the room froze as my daughter let out the loudest, shrillest, excited scream and we stood there and watched as her little legs hurried her cute little body across the room to the front door. I saw this as my opportunity to squeeze in my last morning hug and bent down with arms open wide as my smiley girl came running towards me. Only, she wasn't running towards me. She was aiming for her friend. And Momma was so in the way. So, Adeleigh put her chubby little hand up, placed it against the center of my face and pushed me out of the way. Now the adults were standing there in horror, watching, wondering what was going to happen next. Wondering if I was going to burst into tears. I didn't. But, Adeleigh didn't stop there. She proceeded to put her hand on the half-open door where I was standing, and tried to push it shut. I took the hint and stepped outside, pulling the door shut all the way. I watched through the door window as she, now that Mom was gone, could finally hang out with her friend and go flirt with boys.
While many other babies Adeleigh's age are experiencing separation-anxiety, clutching on tight to their mothers, my baby has decided to skip that fun kid phase and become a fourteen-year-old. Maybe she's ready for me to drop her off two blocks away from daycare, so she can walk herself and not look totally uncool kissing Mom goodbye? I am definitely not prepared for that. Maybe I should commend her sense of independence. Or maybe, when she's fourteen, I'll remember that one day at daycare. And when I drop her off two blocks away from high-school, I'll speed ahead and meet her at the entrance when she's with all her friends, curlers in my hair and say, "Honey, you forgot your lunch and your paci. And don't forget, after school we have fingerpainting class. I yuh-oo. Bi-do-rar-na-dee!"
Monday, October 17, 2011
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Lovey
Long before Phaeton and I were planning our own children, our friends and family members were basking in the love and joy of parenthood. For years, every time someone we knew had a baby, we had our staple gift that we'd give: a Ty Pluffie stuffed animal (with sewn eyes, not button) and a board book. Both Phaeton and I worked for Barnes and Noble at the time, and both of these items were always plentiful in stock. Parents would report to us how much Baby loved cuddling with the Pluffie's soft fur. Our nephew, Ashton's animal was a Dalmatian dog named Dot who quickly became his "lovey". My sister Amy, and her husband Pat, stocked up for the years to come to ensure there would always be a clean Dot around.
Our nephew, Ashton at 14 months old, fast asleep with Dot.
I was on a mission. Now on to Plan C. I got back online and after hours and hours of searching, found out that Ty stopped making Pluffies with sewn-on eyes. I found a lady on eBay who had stocked up on these Pluffies and had four giraffes left in stock. Smart lady she was. It's funny how when someone stops making something, it instantly costs three times the original price tag to purchase. My original $7.99 obsession became a $20 inconvenience. I sat in front of the computer, switching the Quantity back and forth between one and three...one, no three. No, Phaeton will flip if I spend $60 on three of the same stuffed animal. But what if we buy one, it gets dirty, and we have to endure 45 minutes of uncontrollable screaming while it's in the washing machine? Three. But what if she doesn't even consider it her lovey, then I will have wasted 60 precious dollars on a dumb toy?
I bought one. Then I found an online retailer with the button-eyed Pluffies for $4 each. I figured if we have a meltdown while Thread Eyes is bathing, Button Eyes will hold us over in the short run. So, I bought two, just in case. After inspecting them, I realized the button eyes aren't going anywhere. I think they are quadruple-sewn in. So, my choking hazard neurosis was completely unwarranted and not necessary. Then, with the help of Shay, I named them all Raffee. Adeleigh was going to appreciate the headache Raffee inflicted on Mommy because of how awesome, and soft, and not a choking hazard Raffee was! I had it all planned out.
Its funny how no matter what possibilities you plan and prepare for; you never really know what the future holds. I've learned time and time again, I can't force something to be, just because that's what I planned. So, no matter how much I tried making Raffee Adeleigh's lovey, she just wasn't ever that attached to him. She didn't mind his presence, but that sense of longing and needing him wasn't quite as apparent as I had anticipated. Pacifiers on the other hand - those have become a hot commodity in the Gaglio household. If there's a paci anywhere within 10 feet of Adeleigh's face, she'll find it. She'll double fist her pacis and switch every few minutes, just to keep it interesting. And fortunately, the paci she's attached to costs about $4 for a 2-pack, so replenishing our stock doesn't break the bank.
So here we were, with 2 extra Raffees sitting in their bags, un-needed and un-loveyed in the closet. Life goes on. More babies are born. So, out come the giraffes into baby gift bags, given to other adorable children, in other homes, where they hopefully will be loved.
And then, for the first time the other night, I saw the sweetest thing. And every night and naptime since, I've caught the two of them snuggling close, clutching on tight to one another. So I guess after a year of having her one and only Raffee lingering around, she's grown to love him more than I'd realized.
Michael Bolton's "How am I supposed to live without you" played overhead.
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