I will now proceed to disinfect my kid from head to toe...

As a working mom, one of my biggest fears is that I am going to miss out on some big milestone in Brigid's life, and while I was able to be there the first time she stood up, or the first time she walked, or even the first time she spoke (or, at the very least, I was told I was there the first time these things happened, by a very nice mother-in-law who was instructed to LIE THROUGH HER TEETH if any of these things happened on her watch), there are still small things that I don't get to see.

Brigid dancing at storytime? Haven't been there for that, yet.

Brigid feeding the ducks? Nope.

Brigid peeing in a public toilet?

Oh...yeah. Remember that whole potty-training advice thing I asked about yesterday? I think I'm just going to skip all of that and let B teach herself. Because apparently, while eating lunch out today, the little miss was asked if she needed to go potty, she said yes, and then she went.

That seems...too easy, right?

At the very least, I know she gets it, so now it's just up to me to make it a habit, I guess.

And it's nice to see that some milestones are better experienced by someone other than myself...

Advice

There are big things happening in my world these days, friends. Big, big things.

BIG things, I say!

*drumroll*

Brigid might finally be ready to give potty training another shot!

(Haaaaaa...remember when big things actually meant something that other people, outside of your house, might actually get excited about? Yeah, I don't...)

So, to recap (or maybe to just get it out there in the first place, because I don't remember if I've talked about this before or not): We tried potty training. Brigid freaked out and started holding everything in for hours and hours and hours at a time. We stopped potty training.

THE END.
Well, recently, she's started asking to use the potty on her own. Most of the time, it happens at night, after we read some books and before I put her into her crib. She complains about her diaper, tells me she needs to go potty, then when I put her on the toilet, she goes. Exactly how it should be, right?

But it only happens at night. It's obvious now that she knows how this thing works, so how do I make it a daytime activity, as well, without scaring her into camel mode again?

I'm ready to be done with diapers. I NEED to be done with diapers. HOW DO I MAKE THIS HAPPEN?!?!?!?

Going Gray

I think, going forward, I'm going to start photographing each gray hair that I find, while also naming it after the specific Brigid-related moment that caused it. Because you can't tell me that these things that just happened to start appearing when Brigid joined the mix aren't a direct result of her joining the mix.

And really, telling her the story over and over and over again about the amount of pain I was in while trying to tough it out at home through my overnight contractions, because the triage nurse didn't seem to think I was that far along when I went to the hospital at 8PM the night before, only to have that same triage nurse cheerfully tell me 'We expected you back here HOURS ago!' when I finally went back at 5AM the next morning* will only get me so far, I think.

I'm going to have to get creative if I want to stay at the top of my guilt game.

So, remind me to document the gray hair named Brigid woke up at midnight calling 'daddy, help me!', only Steve didn't hear it, so I had to wake him up so he would, in fact, go help her with what apparently was a need to potty in the big potty, even though she is not remotely close to potty trained, and really, I'm kind of afraid to even try starting that process again, since she hated the idea of it so much last time, she just decided to hold EVERYTHING in for extended periods of time when I get some free time, ok?

Thanks.


*Seriously, I don't think I will EVER stop telling that story to people. And I know I will never NOT get mad at that nurse when I do...

She was just SO. DARN. CHEERFUL!!!

Nervous

Brigid, when she doesn't want to go to sleep, has taken to sitting in her crib, calling, 'mommy, help me. daddy, help me' over and over again, until one of us responds. Because, help me? Really? We're supposed to tune that one out?

(She knows us a little too well, I think...)

Saturday night, when Steve took me out for my birthday, and my in-laws were watching her for the night, she went to bed crying, 'mommy, mommy, mommy' over and over again.

In less than two weeks, Steve and I will be going to the Dominican Republic for a week, without Miss B in tow.

And I...well, I don't know how well this is going to work out for any of us, really.

In the bathroom...

Because where else would you want to hang out while playing games on your dad's phone?

Another Milestone

Last night, we went out to dinner at a relatively noisy pizza place, and after Brigid finished her meal (which consisted primarily of the tomato from my salad, a couple of tater tots from Steve's plate, and every piece of pineapple from her own piece of pizza...healthy, no?), we left her to play with one of our phones for a few minutes, while we finished up our own food.

(On a related note: How in the world did people eat out with toddlers before iPhones? I am fully aware that we are probably over-technologizing (totally a real word, right?) our child, but holy heck, is this technology stuff useful from time to time...)

My little angel must have had trouble hearing whatever video she was trying to watch over the dull roar of our fellow diners, though, because while I was trying to talk to Steve, she looked me straight in the eyes, held up her hand, and said, 'don't talk, mommy'.

DON'T TALK, MOMMY.

And this is why I keep a blog instead of a baby book. Because there is just no page in those baby books for baby's first sass, now is there?

Valentine's Day Recap

Steve had to be in Charlotte on Tuesday night, for a Wednesday morning meeting, meaning Brigid and I celebrated Valentine's Day alone, girls'-night-in style.

And in our house, GNI means eating macaroni and cheese, taking pictures/videos of ourselves making silly faces to send to Steve, reading every single book in the room, and cuddling, pre-bedtime, for an exceptionally long time. And then, after toddler bedtime finally occurs, it means cheesy television (hellooooo Gossip Girl!) and caramel/chocolate/sea salt gelato, left behind by a sweet husband who is very sorry he had to leave his girls on the best made-up holiday of the year.






All things considered, I'd say we fended pretty well for ourselves. But if Steve ditches us again next year?

We are totally demanding jewelry...

Because Steve doesn't have a blog...

...I have to do his dirty work for him.

In his own words, via text message I received last night before I left work for the evening:

She won't share.

I'm 95% certain that Steve took this picture a split second before the dogs realized they were bigger/stronger than Brigid, plus had strength in numbers on their side, and mob rushed her for control of the cereal bowl. Because they have NEVER been this gentle and patient with me...

In Brigid's world...

...Cinderella is a cat.

I wonder how all of those mice and birds that are running around Cinderella's room all of the time would feel about this version of things?

See the pretty fish?

Do you know how you top a morning in which your main triumph is getting to preschool registration early enough to score the #1 spot in the registration line, thereby ensuring that your child WILL HAVE A SPOT in next year’s already almost full two-year old class, and leading to a sequence of events in which you take a picture of said line ticket to text to your husband, while narrating your actions with an internal monologue that includes shouting WINNING! to yourself, but in a crazy-Courtney-from-The-Bachelor voice, and not a crazy-Charlie-Sheen-from anything one?
(Not that this has ever happened to me, or anything…)

Well, you don’t top it, really. But if you can follow it up with a couple of hours spent chasing a ‘keep walking, keep walking, keep walking’ toddler around the aquarium, you can come pretty darn close…

That kid, man...she is A LOT of fun to hang out with these days.

Another Check...

So, today I registered Brigid for preschool in the fall.

Brigid will be going to school. In the fall.

Who's going to hold my hand when I have to drop her off?

Birthday Boy

Happy birthday to a wonderful husband and a fantastic father. B and I are so, so lucky to have you in our lives...

{photo by my brother-in-law, Greg}



(And thank you for always being two weeks older than me, so I can mock you for being 'an old man' for a few fun days.)

Happy birthday, Steve! Love you bunches...