Metal Meredith

Between Vivienne and Phil

Vivienne: Where’s Daddy?
Me: I think he is in the bathroom.

--She heads toward the bathroom and I hear a door open--

Vivienne: Whatcha doin’ Daddy?
Phil: Peeing.
Vivienne: Good job, Daddy.
Phil: Thanks, Baby.
Vivienne (clapping): Great job flushing, Daddy.
Phil: Thanks, Vivienne.
Vivienne: You are a big girl!!!
Meredith (laughing hysterically): Yes Phil, you are a big girl.

I always knew Phil was a big girl, I have been telling him for years.

I Hope My Mom Doesn’t Act Like This

I was at the Pediatrician’s office on Tuesday with Vivienne when this teeny little girl toddled right up and said hello. She was about a year old and had these little tiny earrings on. I was holding Vivienne who said “Ooooh, what pretty earrings!”

The grandmother of the girl heard this and said “Don’t you have your ears pierced?” and looked right at Vivienne. I smiled and said no. She then gave me a little lecture on how important it is to get done early because there is less risk of problems and complications. I nodded politely and smiled. I am not getting Vivienne’s ears pierced until she is old enough to take care of the piercings herself. The last thing I want to do is change a diaper and then wipe a new wound with alcohol while twisting the earring so the skin doesn’t stick to it. Good lord, I don’t even have my ears pierced anymore, so all of these facts I kept to myself. The grandmother gave me a sad look, as if to say “That poor poor baby girl. She will never be as pretty as my baby grandchild.”.

Next, she asked how old Vivienne was and then said “She still isn’t in diapers, is she?” Posing a question like this is like asking someone “Did you mean to get your hair cut like that?” There just isn’t a very good way to answer it and immediately puts me on the defensive.

“She is two. She is still in diapers. We just aren’t ready, yet,” I said, kicking myself for giving her even a tiny explanation. Right after, she started telling me that this was her 3rd grandchild and she hoped her last. She was supposed to retire last year and then this one came along. She thinks her daughter planned it this way. She is tired, she means dead tired. She should be relaxing and spoiling herself, not her children’s children. Honestly. And those strollers are heavy. She keeps the small ones in her trunk so she doesn’t have to deal with the big ones.

Then, like a pardon from the president, the door opened and they called Vivienne’s name to go into the exam room. We smiled and walked back. In the room, I thanked my lucky stars that Vivienne’s grandmothers aren’t forced to take care of her. Any time they spend with her is because they want to. I suppose I was brought up to think that any time spent with grandparents is bonus time. So one who doesn’t feel the same just threw me for a giant, spinning loop.

...and not Vivienne

Vivienne will be heading down to Williamsburg this Friday for her very first sleepover. Not only is this her first time staying at someone else’s house, but her first time sleeping away from Mom and Dad.

Mom is worried. Dad is a little nervous. Vivienne is ecstatic.

When Phil gave me a trip to Europe for our anniversary this year, it didn’t even cross my mind to be concerned about leaving Vivienne for a week. It wasn’t until well into the evening that I realized the logistical problems of not being here.

Luckily, we have more than 3 sets of Grandparents and family all vying for the chance to keep her overnight without my watchful, evil eye. Just considering all the packing, quirks and routines, not to mention the fact that someone will be staying in my house….seeing the real dirt that has collected in the corners and piles of stuff stashed in closets to be ‘dealt with later’, makes me incredibly nervous. After, Phil and I are dreading the reality of coming home to a kid who has eaten whatever she wants, slept whenever she felt like it (or not, which is always more of a problem) and been spoiled rotten. Such is the punishment for wanting a week off from parenting, I suppose.

I remember spending weeks with my Grandparents in Baltimore when I was a child. For whatever reason, I barely remember them going to work, only taking me to the Aquarium, Chuck-ee-Cheese’s and other ridiculous restaurants, Friendly’s for ice cream and the local mall to ride on the carousel and eat bad food court food. Those are truly some of my fondest childhood memories.

This weekend will be great as a trial run. We are hoping that Vivienne behaves and is easily amused. If so, this might be a more regular thing. Can you imagine? A weekend alone for Phil and me? I am not sure we would know what to do with ourselves. Knowing us, we will be perched on the sofa, each with a laptop, reading blogs and eating cookies. Better yet, we might finish the kitchen floor.

We are a lot of fun.

Puking Kid and Dust Clouds

Phil and I walk up the steps to Vivienne�s room. We put her jammies on without struggle, tuck her cuteness into bed, read a quick yet uplifting story, stand on either side as we kiss her on the cheek, �I love you Vivienne� we say. �I love you mother and father� she returns. Then we all crack up laughing at the absurdity.

Since getting Vivienne into her own bed, we have learned a few things about toddler stubbornness. Vivienne is quick to offer to get into bed and read a book. But after all is said and done, she is up and playing on the floor as soon as she hears the click of the doorknob. I will go back in and put her back into bed, when her most recent Golden Globes performance of �Best Defeated Napper by an Infant or Toddler� comes into play. Oh, how I love these moments of parenthood.

This past week, we have had people in to fix our big hole. It is a mess, although I know the inconvenience is well worth the current dust filled cave we have going on right now. But on top of this all, we had our first Vivienne sickness scare. I was not prepared for the helplessness and hurt I could feel for sickness other than my own.

She has had colds in the past; don�t mistake what I am saying. This was the first time we felt that there was nothing more we could offer her and we reluctantly took her to Patient First. There, after Phil walked her around for 5 minutes and I gave all of our information, Vivienne curled up on her mom�s lap and let out about 3 cups of barf right on to my sweater. After she got sick, everyone was trying to help me get clean and I could have cared less. I was sitting wet, smelly and more concerned for my poor, sick child.

Come to find out that she not only had a cold, but a stomach virus and an ear infection. Over two years without a major illness and she throws all that at us at once. Super. In her sickened and exhausted stupor, she managed to wave and say a frail �good-bye� to each and every person at the clinic. Then, on the way home, she sang �Itsy Bitsy Spider� in and out of consciousness all the way home and up the stairs to her bed. Then, and only then did Phil and I lie on either side of her and watch her quickly fall asleep.

We dodged a bullet with no more puking, but she still isn�t feeling 100%. Last night, to get out of the house and give us all a little break from routine, we treated ourselves each to one present from the Dollar Store. Vivienne bought a Play-doh set, Phil bought a bag of those gross chalky sweetheart candies and I bought Vivienne a Get Well Soon balloon. Glad to be leaving the store (where they now sell meat, for a dollar. MEAT for one dollar�ugh), we called it a night.

Lastly, I was flattered all over myself for this post on BloggingBaby.com. One of my favorite bloggers, SuburbanBliss, visited my site and gave it a mention. I was giggling with glee which clearly shows that I need some adult interaction and very soon.