Last night Landon + I went for a run with Paityn in the jogging stroller past 10pm. Once back home sweaty and tired Paityn wavered between rubbing her eyes sleepily, attempting to cuddle with us while we’re trying to cool down, and getting excited about something and running off. Rarely if ever does she melt down when she’s tired. Instead, when it’s time for bed I’ll lay her down, she’ll grab her doll Michelle with an arm, bring her in close then waits patiently to be tucked in. I’ll kiss her on the forehead and as I turn off the lamp and shut the door we go back and forth a few times: “bahhyee” “love you.”
When she wakes up she’s very diplomatic of making sure no man or blanket is left behind. One by one she hands me Ellie the elephant, Michelle her doll, and a blanket or two to wake up with. Once up and over and almond milk is on her mind, they’re all forgotten about. But hey, at least they’re free.
Paityn will excitedly scamper to the dishwasher and wait for me to open the door so that she can start looking for her cup. I usually find it first so she goes to the fridge next and waits for me to catch up. 9 times out of 10 she can spot the milk and goes in for it. The other tenth of the time she’s handing me egg whites in a carton convinced she needs to drink them right this second. “Pait, I promise you don’t want to drink those!” *breaks down heart-broken.*
I am mom to an independent little toddler. Most of the time this is amazing. She can run (walk quickly while giggling, tripping often) around, free to explore and play in this little home to her heart’s content. We are a TV free home aside from lunches with Landon and a show at night, all on Hulu. I love this! I love it all. The downside is that due to her little independent heart she’s not one to sit down and just cuddle. She’ll wiggle out of it, schooch off my lap til she’s standing on the floor, and beings pull me off to get something she couldn’t reach herself.
While I get ready in the morning (late afternoon?) you’ll sometimes catch Paityn sitting on the bathroom counter, little legs dangling over. I’ll put a dab of face lotion on her fingers after applying mine and very thoughtfully she’ll apply it to her cheeks. She’ll turn around and run her hand through my makeup brushes til she chooses the right one, and sometimes I’ll let her apply the leftover products on me. Just as precisely if not more than with the lotion, she paints strikes of black powdered eyeliner on my face.
I am now mom to a picky eater. We thought we were doing so great having her eat whatever we were eating, paying no regard to the children’s menu at restaurants. And then that little one completely jumped ship. All of her favorite foods were suddenly brushed off, then chucked right off her high chair tray. Bites of apple may be taken, but then they’re spit out one by one. Again and again. Bite, spits out, bite, spits it out. She will do the cutest happy feet dance when I tell her that we have rectangle-shaped-individally-wrapped pieces of cheese back in the house. Oh her eyes just light up with all the joy in the world. So much for being dairy free.
I am mom to a girl who is learning new things every week. 17 months is such a fun age. I can officially ask her to put things away and she’ll run back to the living room ready for more. We load the dishwasher together, pick up toys, mop the floors, move the sun chairs outside to where we want them, browse all the cute things on Pinterest and excitedly cheer when dad comes home.
It’s now a little after 10am, and she finally work up. Legs dangling through her crib, she was reaching for her shoes basket and pointing for the stroller. She just woke up, and she’s ready to be back outside again.