This morning we shared breakfast out. A rare and special family treat. We took the girls to our favorite mom and pop in town where the nearly toothless waitress "Nancy" remembers us, even though we've only dined there a handful of times. The waiters all call the girls princesses, they bring us extra bacon for free, and their farmers skillets could easily feed all four of us well (not that that stops us from ordering two). After we'd had our fill I waddled up to the front with Ainsley to pay. The happy polish grandma smiled, took my money, looked me up and down and said "how much longer?" "Oh, about 6 weeks" I replied. "Wonderful. You're having a boy." Not a question, not a suggestion a simple fact stated with such frankness that it caught me off guard, made me smile.
We proceeded to fill the rest of the morning with errands and family library fun where we ran into three of Ainsley's preschool friends. Along the way I received countless knowing nods, inquiries of when the baby is due, door holding, gender guessing (ALL boy guesses).
After my recent tirade about how hard and painful pregnancy is (and it still is), it's as if the universe is reminding me in no uncertain terms how lucky I am to be carrying this child. When I was on bedrest with Louise, my largest regret, other than of course the fear that she would be born premature, was that I didn't get a normal pregnancy. I didn't get to waddle around town and have doors held for me and complete strangers so completely excited for this little one to be born soon.
Point taken universe. Thanks for the kick in the pants. I needed that.
Number Two
While readying for musikgarten this week I took a new tactic with Ainsley. She's been struggling with drop offs at her favorite extra curricular and rather than talk her ear off or get angry we just set about the work of getting ready and got in the car, without a word about the looming leaving her.
Two minutes into the drive Ainsley calmly, quietly squeaked from the backseat "Mama, I'm a little bit unsure this. About you leaving me. I feel a little bit unsure." Rather than jump into my usual "it's ok to be nervous but sometimes we need to be brave" speech I took a deep breath and simply replied. "Ok Ainsley, if it's too much today, mommy and Louise will stay." My big girl took a sigh of relief and beamed, then marched proudly into her class and participated as if we weren't even there.
I felt like a good mom that morning and I haven't seen Ainsley so happy at class in a long time.
Number Three
Tonight before bed Ainsley requested a snack. Ian fetched her an apple which of course Louise wanted too, so he cut a wedge out and Ainsley lost it. I snatched the apple playfully and took two small bites out above the wedge, transforming the apple into a crude smiling face. Ainsley loved it.
She nibbled a bit making the mouth bigger, pretend talking for the apple and dancing around the room. Then? Suddenly... "Mama, I'm sad to eat my apple. He doesn't want to be eaten." This went on and on. Oh the feeling inanimate objects have taken on around this house. So Ian decided to take a HUGE bite out of the apple to show her it wouldn't hurt it. Backfire. Cue tremendous enormous breakdown. She heaved and sobbed on my shoulder while I turned my head far away to hide my own laughter induced tears. Then Louise toddles over, rubs Ainsley's back and begins to sing
It's Ok to eat your apple!
You can bite the apple's eyes!
It's Ok to eat your apple!
Yummy yummy yummy!
(all the while flitting and jumping and twirling wildly about the room)
Once I'd regained composure I bit two more tiny eyes for the apple person and Ainsley was happy again.
No more pre bedtime apples in this house.
One can only imagine what tomorrow will bring.
Oh my gosh... that apple story made me laugh!
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