Recently we passed a couple of minor emotional milestones in Nora's continuing progression from baby to toddler. We went to visit Sue, Nora's new daycare provider, to check out the scene and get the ball rolling on paperwork. Sue is a very nice lady from the area whose three girls I used to babysit (they are now aged 26, 29 and 33 – I didn't really babysit that last one per se, she just wasn't old enough to do it herself), and Nora seemed to enjoy being there. Sue's got some fun toys that we don't have, so now I'm off the hook a bit where that's concerned. The other kids were all pretty sweet, though man boys are rough, and I feel pretty good about bringing Nora there three days a week. She will spend Mondays with Oma and Grandpa, Tuesdays to Thursdays with Sue and the gang, and then Fridays with Oma and Grandpa again. She seemed so tiny when I brought her in there to play with the other kids but she keeps up in her way, and found her footing pretty quickly. Sue didn't foresee any problems. I will bring her one more time before heading back to work, and I'll leave her for a few hours to see how it goes. Fingers crossed.
Later on that same afternoon, my good friend came over to take some of our baby things off our hands. She is due in November and we offered up all of Nora's old equipment (the Bumbo, the carseat, the beloved Jolly Jumper, the excersaucer) for the new little guy, with the agreement that if Nora ever gets a baby brother or sister, or cousin even, we will take it back. She also took a good pile of baby clothes, and the process of going through every piece was bittersweet. It felt like so long ago that we used them, yet so recent as well. Some of them are unbelievably tiny, but others look like they still could work today (I know they won't – I bought some new sleepers last week which are already tight in the toes). My friend said she'd write my name in them all but I told her I will remember them, and I will. I will remember every single piece, fondly.
Also in the past week Nora started misbehaving. Up to now she has been a perfect sweet angel. She has a bit of a temper but it passes quickly, and she's usually fairly compliant and reasonable. Lately, however, she has decided she does not want her cereal at breakfast, and spits it out at me. I am not impressed. I reprimand her and let her know it's not acceptable behaviour but I think she thinks she is all hilarious. I hope it's not a trend. Her other misbehaviour is more of a developmental inevitability – she now climbs everything, and is FURIOUS when you pull her off. She can climb her wee chair (she has stood up on it, not a great idea) and the Rubbermaid in the kitchen, and is working on climbing the bread maker and the sofa. She is unstoppable in her determination. It would all be fine, except for the fact that she doesn't know how to get down, and is indignant when you try to teach her to go down backwards. Someday, under closed conditions (i.e. a short distance, pillows on the floor), I'm just going to let her fall to see what happens. Maybe then she'll decide for herself that going down on her tummy is a better idea.
Before supper tonight, I had a headache and lay down for 20 minutes in the hope it would pass without Tylenol. While I was upstairs, apparently Nora and her dad were in the kitchen, where her forehead just reaches the lower sill of the open window. She was hollering nonsense out the window, in the baby version of 'HEY YOU THERE! GET OFF MY LAWN!' - to nobody in particular. Hubby said all the neighbours likely heard it - wee Nora telling them what's what, loudly. Who knows, maybe she was yelling at the cat? Birds? Passing cars? She has found her voice for sure – once she learns to speak English, I'm sure I'm in for an earful. She kind of talks constantly, to me, to Rosie, to the cat, to herself…she's trying it all out for sure.
As of tomorrow I am no longer on maternity leave; I am on vacation. Technically I should be returning to work, because I took a bit of extra time at the beginning of my leave, but I just could not bear to go back just yet. I know it's only another three weeks, but every one of those days is important to me – I need to adjust the daily routine quite a lot before I can subject myself, and Nora, to the new reality. I had to take a bite out of my vacation stockpile, if only to get the landmark first birthday out of the way. Emotionally I am not prepared – either for going back to work OR for my baby to be one year old already.
Anyway, I don't want this post to become maudlin. Before I go back to work, I still look forward to time at the lake, hubby's two-week vacation, a roller derby, a party with some of my favourite people, a wee birthday party for Nora, a possible trip to Montreal with my sister-in-law, a new deck outside of my bedroom, and quality time with my babe.
I am going to wring everything out of this three weeks that I possibly can, before we all have to grow up and get moving.
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