E is nearly on the verge of walking. She's pulling up everywhere, can't sit still in her high chair for more than 5 minutes, and I am constantly chasing her around the house as she cruises around the couch and coffee table, climbs up the stairs, and crawls fast chasing the dog. The good news is that she sleeps great these days. She takes two full naps that usually run from 1.5-2 hours each, and about 11-12 hours at night without interruption. Must be all that extra energy required to be so mobile. Phew! It makes me exhausted. It seems like we have a routine now where we settle on the couch after she's in bed, watch the Olympics, and I fall asleep watching all athletes do their thing. It looks so tiring - I figure someone's gotta conserve energy while these folks in London are expending so much. (And yes, usually its barely 10pm by the time I'm passed out. It's funny to think that I ever struggled with insomnia - but that's a post for another time.)
Having a toddler requires a different kind of energy than a baby did. Before E was so mobile, I mostly felt a physical drain and I was tired a lot because I'd be up nursing her. But now it requires a patience and vigilance on her that I didn't have to exercise before. She is starting to assert her independence too. Before, I could just pick her up to go upstairs, change her diaper, or go somewhere and now if she doesn't want to, she produces a high pitched whine and pushes me away. This is hard, because I'm so used to having control without a fight - and now this little person is realizing that she can have some control too. And to be pushed away by a little person that was once in your belly and relied on you for every basic physical need - well, it hurts if you take it personally! So I try not to, but sometimes I miss having a little blob that you could just set on the couch and cook breakfast and the blob wouldn't have moved. But I digress. I do love my little toddler.
P thinks she interacts with me in a different way than him. Whereas he is all play time, picking her up and throwing her around while she squeals in delight, reading her books in funny voices, singing ridiculous made-up songs about poo, she seems to look to me for sustenance and comfort. This is probably left over from our nursing relationship, where I was her walking source of food all the time. But now if she is hungry, thirsty, scared of a new place, or wants me to walk her around holding her hands up high (and straining my back and neck), she has a particular look (and whine) that she gives me that she doesn't usually give to her daddy. It's pretty fascinating that we have such distinct roles in her life already.
Yesterday, I had a particularly hard day. It's been 95-100 degrees every day this week as we're getting one of those late summer heat waves. So after we got back from music class, I parked across the street from our house under some shade. As I was crossing the street holding E, I slipped and fell in the middle of the street - hard. I was wearing these really cute sandals that I got from my favorite boutique that were super cheap ($16!) but have no traction on the bottom. I skinned both my knees and although I tried to protect E from the fall, she hit her head also and ended up with a slight bruise. I'm just glad it wasn't worse. I had blood dripping down my leg as I walked into the house and E was crying pretty hard from the shock (then she touched my knee and had blood on her and it freaked me out because I thought it was hers), but luckily P was home to clean us up. I think it wasn't the physical pain that wore me out for the rest of the day. It was fact that despite my best efforts, I couldn't shield E from falling in the middle of a street where people drive pretty fast down the hill, and I just felt plain old incompetent. I'm often not very good at walking. I spent the rest of the day feeling really discouraged. Plus, I was really sticky and cranky from the heat. That's probably how E felt too. Sometimes we're not all that different from toddlers.
Anyway, I'm in need of strength and I've been trying to find a good devotional book for mothers but I can't seem to find anything that's not written by Texan women with big hair. Not that there's anything wrong with that. But if anyone knows of something that is a little more compelling than what came up on my Amazon search, then please do send some recommendations my way. I could use a little sustenance myself.
Some pictures from this week.
 |
| Playing guitar, sitar style |
 |
| Practicing her puckers |
 |
| Picnicing at the Americana |
 |
| Chowing down |
