FIGHT

It goes something like this:

7:45 A.M.
"Scout, its time to get ready for preschool. I laid out your outfit, can you please get dressed?"

Scout runs around the house and screams with laughter. She goes into the romper room and gets her red tricycle.  She turns it around and zips back down the hall, naked.  "Look at me Mommy!" I should be proud, right? She's riding her bike. She's good at it. NOPE. I'm not proud, I am annoyed.

"Scout, you need to get dressed! C'mon!"

She tears back into the romper room and parks her bike. Then, its quiet. I peek out from my bedroom, where I am changing Sawyer's diaper, tickling him and listening to him coo.  "Scout, where are you?"  I hear giggles.  So, I bite.  "Wheeeeeeereeeeesss  SCOUT!"  I wander into the living room and see the blanket moving on the floor. I go and touch it with my toe, right in her tickle spot.  "I can't seem to find Scout! I wonderrrrr where she is?"   "I'm right here MOMMY!"  She is so excited and I am less annoyed. 

"Scout, can you get dressed... now? Otherwise, we are going to be late!"  I am certain my tone is harsh by the third time around. Scout manages to yank a pair of pants on. Not the ones I laid out the night before.  And she has forgotten underwear; a tiny matter I decide to overlook.

"Mommy, do you want to color with me?"  She's already working on a masterpiece and has marker all over her tummy and hands.  "Scout, you need to get dressed, RIGHT NOW!"

She marches back to her room with her bottom lip so contorted it makes me smile.   "NO MOMMY, I DON'T WANT TO GO!"   She drops to the floor. I feel as though I should applaud. Her dramatic performance is hands down the best I have seen.

8:19 A.M.
"Scout, can you get dressed? Its time to go to school."  She is laying on her bedroom floor kicking the wall. I hear Sawyer crying... I need to breastfeed.  I rip my top off because I'm hot and its easier to nurse this way.  Scout comes in and starts poking at Sawyer's head. "Gooo goo gaga! Baby Sawyer!" She loves her brother.  "Honey, go and get dressed or you are going to be in BIG TROUBLE!" I try to sound mean and ugly.  She hides in my closet and giggles.  

I finish nursing Sawyer and then he needs another diaper change.  I try to brush my hair and encourage Scout to brush hers.  I brush my teeth and beg Scout to "wash her teeth really, really well!"  Still, no socks, no top. But teeth are brushed and hair is, well, not pointing straight up.

Scout manages to pull a shirt over her head and very proud of herself. She pulled together her own outfit. I wince. Its painful. Its hideous. It hurts to look at her.  She has green pants and a purple and pink shirt on.  I don't say anything.  I am happy she is dressed, finally!  

"Scout, honey put some shoes on and then we can go!"  She whines.  "Mommy, my socks aren't working! There AREN'T working!" She takes her socks off and melts into the ground.  By now, I am worn out.

8:46 A.M.
Scout walks outside without her socks wearing brown boots that do not help her outfit.  She is carrying her coat because she is too hot to wear it.  When she gets into the car she turns cold and insists I "help her with her coat!"  I do.  I hoist Sawyer up into his seat and I feel a small victory. Both kids are in the car and I can get Scout to school.  We have a five-mile drive.


I consult my mommy checklist before I start the engine.

• Does Saywer have his binkie?
• Does Scout have her breakfast bar? (No we don't sit down and eat breakfast in the morning- need I explain why?)
• Do I have my phone, my purse, my tea?
• Are Luna and Levi the dogs with us? (We take the for the ride every morning)
• Do I have the diaper bag?
• Does Scout have her water bottle?
• Do we have gas in the car?

9:10 A.M. 
We drive.  We talk about the 'rules of the road' and Scout is convinced everyone goes to fast.  We talk about her friends at preschool. Sawyer is quiet and enjoys the ride.  Scout mentions that she is tired and she talks about naptime with excitement. We talk about our family and friends. She asks questions.  Sometimes the ride is quiet.  Sometimes, she talks to Sawyer. Its mostly peaceful.

9:29 A.M.
Scout loves her preschool. I feel really good about dropping her off.  When I sign her in I have no hesitations about leaving her. I think she feels the same way. She is glad to be with her friends and I am glad to return to Sawyer, who doesn't talk or defy me, yet.  I get in the car... and I miss Scout.


Every single morning we do this.  Some mornings are more difficult and others.  Some mornings I physically dress her myself because I cannot stand the fight.  I know she is asserting herself. She is testing me, always. She is learning who she is.  And with this, I am learning how very bad I am at this stage of parenting. Its not my best time. I grow impatient easily. Letting go of control (not that I had any) and letting her walk out of the house looking like she got dressed in the dark is very, very hard for me.  SHE SHOULD MATCH, I think to myself.  Why do I care if she matches?

She is trying to play... and I don't know how to play.  I know how to create 'order.'

The thing is, there isn't much order in a three year old universe. Nor should there be; at least not as much as I try to instill. I am learning to let go... one minute at a time.


10:00 A.M.

SPEED

I am astounded at how fast time passes. Always have been. When I was eight years old I worried I was getting old. When you have kids for some reason time speeds up. There is a no-stopping requirement for being a parent. You don't ever stop, unless you are sleeping and that is if you are lucky.  If you are ALWAYS moving then time moves with you. 

I looked at Scout's feet in the bath tub last night and they are almost as big as my whopping size 6.  If she is ready to outgrow my feet, what's next?  She is so proud. She keeps telling me "Mommy, you need to eat 5 fruits and vegetables everyday so you can get big and strong."  How do I break it to her that I am as big as I am going to get?   She is so good about eating and drinking her milk.  At her age, I could swear I hid food in my mouth and spit it out when no one was looking.  She actually reaches for carrots and pears. What is going on here?

Sawyer on the other hand is growing by leaps and bounds. He is tipping the scale at 12 lbs. 9oz.  I cannot imagine my life without him and he has been with us for three months.  I feel like I have known him forever. His smile is stunning. When he looks at us his eyes sparkle and it opens my heart up and pulls it out of my chest. I never knew I could love as much as I love these children.  They have so much spirit and so much soul.

Sawyer enjoys watching Scout do everything... and Scout likes the fact that she always has an audience.  He is going to be very impressionable and I know Scout will watch out for him.  He is the gentler soul, like Bob; patient and soft.  Scout - is the electricity in the house.  We work hard to keep up with  her.  She NEVER stops talking... ever.  Bob and I sometimes look at each other over dinner with speaking and knowing eyes "holy shit, we need a break!"

Both kids make time go by too fast.  I want to bottle it. Hold it. Pause it. Stop it.  I want to watch them, hold them, take mental pictures... I don't want it to go so fast.  I try to take as many pictures as possible. I review the days in my head before I go to sleep (when I sleep)  though they all meld together like one big fat ball of play-doh.

The best I can do is be thankful for today. It is all ANY OF US HAVE.  When the kids are with me, which is almost always... I relish, even when I am having 'one of those days...'  I know they are going to grow up fast.  Scout wants to wear make-up and I betcha, Sawyer already wants to be just like his big sister.

I'm going to hold tight to today.  Really freakin' tight.

WHO SHE IS...

This is another post I discovered:

How in the hell can I expect to catch up on 8 months worth of being a Mom? I haven't written a word - except for on the grocery list or in emails.

Scout is 8 months old, just shy. She is the best buddy, laughs out loud, is a wonderful baby and has just learned to take her own bottle instead of the breast.

What a journey so far. Breastfeeding for 8 months... and she is finally weaned herself. Which leaves me... totally confused and hormonally crazed. O, to be a woman! I have postpartum depression and excitement at the same time.

Tonight, I am bleaching my teeth (not allowed when pregnant or breastfeeding) and I am taking vitamins that I wasn't allowed to take before. What a celebration, eh?

The things we take for granted!

The last 8 months have been a whirlwind of mommyhood, confusion, diapers, breastfeeding, new toys, snuggles, car rides, late nights, early mornings, Fraggle Rock, giggles, showers, squeaky toys (not for the dogs), lots of wondering "what should I be doing now" ... feeling out of place and not knowing where I fit. Bean bags, bumbo chairs, constipation, Dr.'s visits, 0-3, 3-6, how many lbs? Is she crawling YET? Does she have teeth YET? I tell everyone "NO.. I am trying to stunt her growth, I don't want her to move!"

Scout Elizabeth Kingsley is the most wonderful thing that has ever happened to me ... next to my husband Bob. Of course, we both wonder..."What did we do before Scout was born?" Now, we are totally satisfied to watch her - DO ANYTHING. She is a good girl. We are lucky!

She smiles when she wakes up. She talks NON-STOP. She sleeps through the night. She cries only when she needs something. She is friendly and loves people. She is kind. She is thoughtful, you can tell. She is a good eater. She watches and observes well and is quite intelligent (I know I am biased!) But she is!

Her Dad is the best Dad there is. He is so active with her and so engaging and wonderful. She LOVES her Daddy! He use to put her on his shoulder and she would fall asleep - for about 2 months that is the only place she wanted to be at night. He was so proud of that. She, like so many things, grew out of that fast. Now, she cuddles her bottle, she has learned to sleep on her tummy. She is calm when we change her diaper. She looks more adorable in overalls than I ever thought possible.

She is my life. She is our life. There isn't a night that I don't tuck her in that I am not thanking the stars and the moon for her. I love to watch her sleep. Her eyelashes are so beautiful and long.

I make up nursery rhymes because I don't know them well. And it is okay.

She watches TV (for children) and I am okay with it. She loves it.

She hates "tummy time"...

She loves the food I make. Oh, did I mention I make her baby food? I am proud of that.

Her first Babysitter was Aunt Amy when Bob and I went to see Dave Matthews in August 06.

She is surrounded by people that love her so much.

Grandpa Ray and Grandma Liz are over the moon.

We all are.