One of the joys of parenthood is that the child becomes more self-sufficient. One of the last times Carol & I went to the movies, we expected to get back around 9:15, about a half hour before her bedtime at that point, and figured we needed to do the evening ritual. Instead, Lydia pointed to the stairs and essentially put herself to bed! I mean, she needed to be carried into the crib, but she initiated the activity. Moreover, she slept all night. She doesn’t do this not for US, of course, but she’s aware enough to handle bedtime.
Aware: that would describe her. Carol changes something in the house, such as the location of a picture or a floor fan, and she’ll point at it, as though it were out of place. In fact, to be honest, she’s more likely to notice than I.
Orderly: she was making a Play-Dough-like product. The teachers expected that she’d pour in the ingredients from the edge of the bowl, but she insisted on pouring the substance into the middle of the bowl, to avoid spilling.
Of course, this does not apply to her eating, when we wish we had hired a dog for after-meal clean-up.
Now that I take Lydia to day care, that’s become “our” time. I walk her to the bus stop, which is only a couple houses away. We ride on the bus, with me usually feeding her a banana. She manages to devour it in a 10-minute ride. Then we walk to the center. He even lets me hold her hand, something she used to actively avoid (and something, I’m told, she’ll actively avoid in the future.)
Meanwhile, happy year and a half, Lydia. I love you.
