Who wants to hang out with us this weekend?

Brigid woke up yesterday in the early stages of a cold-type sickness with mild fever that left her crabby, uninterested in food, and congested enough during naptime that fighting said nap led to coughing led to vomiting in bed led to falling asleep on the couch, sitting up.
I've already felt less than stellar this week, so Steve volunteered to take on the overnight toddler shift, so I didn't also come down with whatever plague it is she's carrying this time.

Steve is now fighting a combination platter of a sleepless night that involved getting up every hour or two with a stuffy Brigid and his already suspect immune system, so I'd imagine it's just a matter of time before he's down for the count, too.

We are not a family that handles sickness well, and I'd venture to say that preschool is going to be a terrible, terrible time for us all, come this fall.

Send chicken soup and tissues, please...and maybe a nanny who will tuck us all into bed for the weekend?

Thanks.

Big Girl

Because I haven't been all weepy and overly emotional about my daughter growing up in awhile...

WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY BABY?!?!?

Seriously, kid...what is going on with all of this growing up shit? I'm not so sure I fully approve...

Oh, ok...there she is. I've still got some time left on this whole childhood thing, don't I?

First things first...do you know how depressing a crib looks when you're used to it being full of baby and blankets and stuffed animals and such? And then you see it all empty and alone and unloved?

It's pretty depressing.

But you know what kind of kills that dark cloud? Listening to your two-year old explain to her aunt in Indiana, via FaceTime, that the railing protects her ('potets me') from falling out of bed, but where the railing doesn't reach all of the way to the end of the bed, she's on her own ('no potet me'). And then listening to her giggling like a crazy woman, because she thinks that is just HILARIOUS.

Of course, she also thinks that pooping in her undies is hilarious, too...so maybe her sense of humor takes some way of thinking that is beyond me...

PT update...and some in-progress bedroom pictures

So far, today, Brigid has successfully asked to go to the bathroom twice, plus once urged me that she needed to go and we'd better hurry, only to show me that she had, in fact, already done her #2 business in her drawers. But still...

Two out of three ain't bad.

Add to that the fact that we spent almost all of Sunday out of the house without an accident, and the dry pull-up that she woke up in this morning, and I'm starting to think she may, at least a bit, have an understanding of how this whole potty thing should work.

So...woo!

And, because I know the trials and tribulations of my daughter's bathroom habits probably aren't as thrilling to you as they are to me, Steve took a couple of cell phone pictures of Brigid's still-a-little-in-progress new room:








I'll take some actual pictures, in decent light, once we add the last few touches to the room, but I think it's safe to say that I am beyond happy with how everything turned out...

Shhh....

Don't say it too loudly, because you might spook her, but Brigid has gone two days (nights not included) with no diaper. Two days, two dry naps, two small accidents.

Well, one small accident. I think yesterday's accident involved the brown stuff, so there's nothing small about that.

But still...

Two days. INCLUDING A TRIP TO MCDONALD'S!!! A trip out of the house, with no accident.

I. Am. Pumped.

I might also be overreacting just a bit, but after the sleep regression we've been dealing with this past week, I will take whatever awesome win I can get. And two days of no diapers seems like a win to me.

Now, if we could just tackle that big girl bed situation...

Tickle my tummy...

Remember how much fun it was to feel your stomach drop when someone pushed you really, really high on the swing?

And once again, I'm left wondering where exactly my baby went, and who this totally awesome little person is that took her place...

Brigid says...

This morning, Steve informed me over the phone that he and Brigid weren't friends anymore. Apparently, they'd had a rough go of it, ever since Brigid woke up, and it didn't seem to be getting any better.

He tried to get her on the phone with me, so she could tell me her side of the story, but B was having none of it. She was not up for talking to either one of us at that moment.

'She's being a bit of a brat,' he said, as he gave up chasing after her with the phone.

'Yeah, I a brat!' she responded, giggling like a lunatic.


At least we're all on the same page, I guess...

Movin' on up...

Steve and I have recently decided that Brigid is now of the age where we should start thinking about moving her out of her crib and into a 'big girl bed'.

(And by age, of course, I mean weight. I am old, ok? My back can't handle that kind of heavy lifting all of the time...)

Unfortunately, we made the mistake of mentioning this move to her last night...which...yeah...I know, I know.

Rookie mistake, right there.

She immediately started taking things out of her crib, with every intention of moving into the queen bed in the spare bedroom across the bathroom from her nursery, because much like her father (and, fine, her mother, too...), when she gets an idea in her head, she wants to act on it, RIGHT THIS MINUTE.

When we had to tell her it would take a few days before we were ready to give up the crib, she dropped her head in (what seemed like, according to her) the most anguished disappointment, ever, and started crying.

Really. We are terrible, terrible, TERRIBLE parents.

(That must be the answer, right? Because it's not like my child to ever over-react to anything...)

I can't wait to see what we get when we tell her we're not painting her bedroom yellow, like she's been requesting over and over and over again. Maybe I'll record it for you guys...it might end up being a performance for the ages, right there.