The countdown is on.
As I write this there are only 32 minutes before dear husband comes strolling through the front door. I'm already planning my escape, oops, I mean my break.
Five o'clock is always my favourite time of day. It is always nice to see another adult, but it is always lovely that the adult who walks through the front door is darling daughter's secondary primary caregiver. After the day I had, I think I deserve a break.
Not only was today exhausting, it also put in perspective for me how busy darling daughter has become. We went to a playdate this afternoon, hosted by one of the moms in the book club I belong to. This was the first time where darling daughter was the most mobile baby of the bunch. While little A sat quietly, playing by himself and little E hung out in the bouncy chair, darling daughter was doing her infamous belly crawl, climbing on little E and poking little A in the back with her feet. I barely got a mouthful of food in my mouth before I had to rescue one of the kids from darling daughter's clutches. Looking at little A, sitting quietly on the floor, I grumbled to myself why couldn't darling daughter be more like little A? Why can't she sit up for longer than 30 seconds before getting on her belly to crawl? Why does she have to be so pokey?
Then it dawn at me that the tables have turned and playdates are no longer fun for me as a mother. Oh, I do enjoy the companionship of other mothers, but gone are the days where I could plunk darling daughter on the floor like a bag of potatoes and eat lunch and enjoy a good conversation with other mothers at the same time. Now I am on guard to ensure that she doesn't do damage to the host's house, bang her head on a table or poke some unsuspecting child in the eye. In other words, playdates have become work for me while they have become fun for my daughter. But isn't the whole premise of a playdate is for my child to play?
I know that darling daughter will become even busier in the weeks and months to come. I will be looking back at this time with fondness when she is walking. Because I'm sure it is much easier to corral a crawling child than it is one who is walking. But man I am exhausting. Oh, relief is here! Dear husband just walked through the front door. Thank God break time is here.
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It does get easier - when the other babies get mobile, other mommies are forced to baby-proof. Coffee tables disappear, rugs are already stained, and pets are already hiding in fear before you even arrive! You'll walk in, plunk her down, and let her share fresh germs with her little playmates.
ReplyDeleteWhen Annika walks her knees and belly won't be covered in dirt, just her little feet. Plus, it's a great excuse to buy adorable little shoes.