Big Sister...

Recently, we've reversed our morning commute.

Now, Monkey and I take Jellybean to her school and drop her off, then make our way back up to our neighborhood to Monkey's preK class and then I'm off to work. It saves time, and now that Monkey is truly settled into her new school, it isn't too hard on her to visit - and then immediately leave - her old school. (even if she STILL won't talk to her favorite teacher Jenna - I guess some old habits/grudges/love affairs run deep. stubborn kid!)

I love watching Jellybean after we drop her off. She runs into  her room, zooming about to check out any new books, and settles into her "morning work"so happily. She's a joyful joyful toddler - full of humor and love and hugs.

But even better? Is watching Monkey watch Jellybean.

Often, Monkey will lean on a low bookshelf, cupping her chin in her hands, smiling as she watches Jellybean. She loves her little sister as much as I do. And that is saying a lot.

Then, moving on from that peaceful respite, our commute recommences. And monkey says goodbye:

"bye Jelly jelly cocopuff!"

Yup, it's official; Monkey has started giving her little sister nicknames. I love these two.

CHOCOLATE!

Jellybean turns two soon. In 10 days to be precise. So Monkey and I keep talking to 'lil bean about her party. And she listens, and nods, and then....every single time.....hollers CHOCOLATE. I WANT CHOCOLATE.

I think we shall have chocolate for her birthday, don't you?

Meanwhile, I still get those annoying milestone emails, saying "your 23 month 3 week old child *might* be doing this....". A recent one commented that my child "might" be having an opinion on things. I about fell out of my chair laughing. That's like saying the pope "might" be Catholic.

The September Issue

When Monkey was little, I dressed her to the nines. Her outfit would match, including coordinated hair ribbons, socks and shoes.

Each day, I'd comb out her hair and put it into delicious pigtails. And she'd let me! She'd sit still long enough that I could get a straight part, adjust the ribbons, etc.

Now?

Not only does she NOT let me pick out her clothing or do her hair, she often throws a fit when I suggest that she wear - nay, even TRY - something on that she didn't select.

I have already written about her contempt for the color green. What I haven't written about is the battle royale that occurred last week.

Last week, the weather shifted from unusually cold to unusually warm. And I was caught unprepared to dress my children for school. Monkey's down-filled puffer jacket was way too hot to wear. So, we layered - threw a fleece on under a raincoat. The only problem was that this was a NEW raincoat, and Monkey didn't like it. Oh, the drama. The crying and whining and proclamations of "I don't like you; you're not my friend ANYMORE"...it was the pits.

So, I went to Baby Gap the very next day, eschewing lunch so I could shop for my beloved daughter, and I bought a cute pink windbreaker/spring jacket. I was proud of myself! (You realize that shopping, unless it is online, is limited to what I can do in ten minutes at lunch....(places like Duane Reed, CVS, and thaaaaaat's about it!) .....I have no other time to run errands in this vast city, so getting to the Gap was a coup for me! but I digress....)

The next morning I unveiled the fabulous FANTASTIC pink jacket. And it was worse that the day before.

It was an episode of Under The Table And Screaming (apologies to Dave Matthews...). When I finally got Monkey calmed down again, and the tears and shaking and shuddering had ceased....I asked her why she didn't like the jacket.

She told me that it was pink.

But you love pink, I exclaimed.

She looked at me like I'd pulled a kafkaesque metamorphosis into a giant turdball, rolled her eyes, and said "NO mommy. It's DARK pink."

****

Meanwhile, I was grateful that at least with Jellybean, she doesn't fight with me about her clothing since she's only 15 months old! Yeah, famous last words.

She threw a temper tantrum that very same morning, because she wanted to wear a different jacket than the one I'd picked out for her.

******

Part of me wants to know where in g*d's green earth these two get this from. After all, I don't think I'd looked at an issue of Vogue until I moved to NYC!

The other part of me? Is proud. My little (stubborn stinkers of) girls are going to do just fine.

Would you post bail?

Jellybean is a tiny little thing, but BIG on personality.

Lately, she's been testing boundaries. Repeatedly she does something she knows she's not supposed to, and when you catch her in it, she'll literally either jump away, or toss the offending item away from her....if she could figure out how to finger her sister, or blame the cat, oh - she would! Busting her is funny, but it can go on all.day.long.

This is the stage of life during which my friend called her son a velociraptor, since he was 'testing the boundaries' to see which fence wasn't electrified.*

She isn't verbal yet, but she sure is communicative. You know exactly what she wants or doesn't want to do...and lately, it's a lot of things she doesn't want to do. Not because the activity is, in itself, offensive, it's just that she's being.....opinionated. Wants to control her own destiny. Head strong. Stubborn.

As M said to me the other night in his pre-sleep fugue state, Jellybean's going to be the kid that gets us called down to the precinct at 2am.

Let's just say I was knocking on wood......


*I was going to say bonus points for anyone that got this reference, but since there are only two recent movies about dinosaurs that are decent, gah, you all got it. So, yeah, never mind.

What is your favorite synonym for stubborn? Me, I like mulish.

Monkey had her 3-year check up this morning and, if I hadn’t been there to assure the doctor otherwise, the pediatrician might have thought the kid was blind, deaf, mute and practically immobile, considering the pig-headed, mulish stubbornness she exhibited in her refusal to: (1) answer any questions, including what is your name; (2) exhibit any physical skills other than shrinking backwards; (3) acknowledge that the dreaded headphones on her ears were emitting a series of beeps; or (4) acknowledge that she could both see and identify the shapes on the wall in the vision test.

Now mind you that when she is NOT in the doctors office she is: (1) a freaking chatterbox that asks more questions that you can answer and engages in a running dialogue with her friends and/or toys, whomever is closest; (2) running and jumping and saying “mommy watch me do this trick” as she endangers my health with her fearless acrobatics on the playground; (3) able to overhear every single conversation and (bad) word we want her to miss; and (4) able to spot the smallest Elmo a million miles off and then beg for it (see #1, above).

Sigh.

She is the walking definition of stubborn.

I knew there had to be a catch....

The downside to a highly intelligent, verbal child, is that they use your words (and methods) against you.

To wit:

Last night, M was giving Monkey a bath. When it was time to depart the tub, she declined. After much negotiation, M initiated the "count-down" to a time-out. (As in, I'm going to count down from 5 and if you haven't done [whatever] by the time I finish, you get a time-out). Usually this works like a charm.

But, last night it didn't work.

Upon hearing his pronouncement, mid-count, Monkey turned to M and said:

"I appreciate [your offer of a time-out], but I'm not done with my work here."

Dinosaur Fricassee

Two week ends ago our best friends visited. We had a wonderful time, despite the psychotic NYC weather; hot, then rainy, then hot, then rainy

ButWhyMommy, Bubs and Bunny all stayed with us. Yes, there were 7 people (and one cat!) in our apartment. Sleeping arrangements were....a bit different than we had anticipated, but now we know that Bubs can sleep on the carpet if tired enough. (And for the record, NO. I do not make a habit of making my guests sleep on the floor..but look, when their OWN KID kicks them out of bed, whattaya gonna do? But I digress).

Bunny is obsessed with dinosaurs. She has a lovey stuffed animal Triceratops, and another one with some sort of a duck bill she calls Machine (my own knowledge of dinosaurs fails me here), and again - she LOVES dinosaurs. A lot. A lot, a lot, a lot. Which is why she was so happy to see that Monkey has a collection of small plastic dinosaurs.

Unfortunately, Monkey has a very slightly different idea how to play with these dinosaurs. Which is to say that she was cooking them on her play-kitchen,"with carrots."

This was not acceptable to Bunny.

And by not acceptable I mean that Bunny was bound and determined to rescue the dinosaur AT ALL COSTS; she snatched that dinosaur out of Monkey's hand and (no surprise) was then chased by Monkey around the room until Bunny was literally standing on the couch, with her hand stretched up into the air, trying to get the dinosaur as far away from Monkey's outstretched hand as humanly possible.

You know, to save it from extinction a second time.

ButWhyMommy and I intervened, and there was a discussion about sharing. Bunny apologized to Monkey, and Monkey.....well, she went back to cooking the dinosaur as if nothing had happened. (hoo boy is she stubborn. Yes, yes, pot meet kettle. I know.)

I imagine twenty years from now this story will have a well-worn feeling, from being trotted out again and again, and rehashed under the "do you remember when" rubric of storytelling that helps tie friends (and family) together. I can't wait to accumulate the stories these two friends will have.

the Observer Principle...

We signed Monkey up for an "enrichment" program at school - soccer classes. And according to her "coach," when I am not there, Monkey does a great job.

But, every single time I get there early enough to watch......meh, she won't play. She will kick the ball maybe once, then she lands on the ball or hides in the corner, or generally just declines to play - often swaying back and forth, saying "but I don't WANT to....." It's like that scientific principle that, by virtue of observing something, you change it. Which means that the tree falls in the woods and no one knows what it sounds like or, um, something like that.

Why, howdy neighbor!

Monkey's daycare is closed this week. It's "winter break".....not that they didn't just have a break a few weeks back or anything. And not that spring break isn't just right around the corner...but I digress.

Like I said, school is closed and, since it is wicked cold out there (at least cold enough to preclude extended forays, like the playground) we are INSIDE all the time. Ok, not all the time, but enough that Monkey needs to burn off some energy the old fashioned way - by pissing off the neighbors.

I didn't know whether to laugh or cry when, at 9:30am this morning, a polite young woman clearly still in her PJs knocked on our door to introduce herself and point out that, in case I didn't know this, they could hear every....single....footstep....on.....the....floor...........and................................... my child had been running for what seemed like hours.

Whoops. Nice to meet you. Sorry about the noise.

Oh, and by the way? Next time you start SHRIEKING and jumping up and down because The Bachelor show is, like, omigod, just so amazing? Remember I can hear you too. Snort - the Bachelor. She looked SOOO embarrassed to admit she watched it! Heh.

Hmmm, that wasn't what we meant

Monkey is a creative little bugger. My parents always joked that if you want to know how to do everything, hire a teenager because they think they have all the answers. I think a reasonable addendum is if you need a negotiator, use a toddler. Lord, they work hard to get what they want!

The other night we were eating fish and chips (baked french fries) for dinner. Monkey ate all of her chips and two bites of her fish...and then wanted more chips. Of course.

So the haggling began. You know the drill - no more X until you do Y, yadda yadda. But Monkey resisted. She did not want to eat any more fish. So she'd ask again. She even sweetened the pot by tacking on the "puhleeze" without being reminded. Alas, her parents were stubborn and refused to give in.

So she switched tactics. She turned to me with her gorgeous doe-eyes, batting her long lashes, and with a sweet sweet smile she asked, in dulcet tones, if we could "share." Lord almighty, we about leaped out of our chairs with pride! Sharing!

But then - ahem - she offered her fish to ME and asked for my chips in return.

Oh.

I'm back, dear readers

Can I tell you that I have two perfect daughters now? I feel just greedy! Like who gets to be this lucky????

(oh and I just woke up from a power nap and am sipping diet coke while nibbling on peppermint bark candy, so forgive me if this is scattered. Plus the percocet just kicked in, too.....SUGAR AND CAFFEINE AND DRUGS WOOHOO!!! heh )

On Friday December 12th at 9:45 am, Jellybean was born. She's perfect. Did I mention that yet? She's perfect. And, while Monkey named her Jellybean while I was pregnant, the name turned out to be somewhat prophetic, as her little sister is tiny! A whopping 6 lbs and 18 and 3/4 inches long. Monkey, on the other hand, was 7.1lbs and something ridiculous like 21 inches long - that kid was skinny and looooong. Jellybean is skinny and short. Plus, you know, the comparison to her flesh and blood 26 lbs sister makes her seem miniature, and all the more fragile!

Jellybean suffered from jaundice, and spent several days under the lights. It was harder on me to not be able to hold her than anything else. She's now passed followup tests with flying colors and will slowly lose the yellowish cast over the coming weeks. She never glowed yellow, if anything she just looked like she'd used some self-tanning lotion, so all thing being equal that was a a wonderfully simple complication. And yes, I know about the awful yellow tint from my own forays into self-tanning. And no, you can't see any photos.

I have decided that planned c-sections are SO much better than emergency c-sections. I was present and lucid during the birth, remember my time in the hospital, and generally feel awesome in comparison to last time. Now, don't get me wrong - the pain is still intense when the percocet wears off, but man this is a walk in the park compared to last time! Plus, and I know this will make my family and closest friends chuckle.....this time I am actually asking for help. And lo and behold!!!!!!!!!!!!! My beloved and saintly family members (M, grandma, 'andpa and Heather) have helped!!!! Amazing, this asking for help business. Shoulda done it earlier. (like maybe a few decades ago? but I digress...). Last time I was too stubborn to ask for help, convinced I could do it myself. This time? NO shame. NONE. And I'm healing much, much better.

Monkey is doing remarkably well in this dethroning process. Now, she's still throwing tantrums like an insane two-year old...but then again, she's an insane two year old.

Monkey is excited in principle about her sister, but in reality is somewhat indifferent to her presence. To wit: Day one at the hospital, when she met her sister, she was very excited to hold her for 10 seconds. We got photos and then she got her penguin. She was THRILLED about the penguin, and also wanted to continue eating her goldfish crackers (a new favorite treat). The penguin went home and the crackers stayed at the hospital. Day two, Monkey's first question upon arriving at my room was "where's Jellybean" while the second question was "where are my goldfish (crackers)?". Day three? She just asked for the goldfish. She cracks me up.

Jellybean calls. More later.