Kinetic Sculpture Race

A didn’t love her ballet class, so we had no idea what to expect at the recital. We had no idea what she had learned, or if she had learned anything at all. I was nervous about the recital, and also annoyed that it meant we couldn’t follow the kinetic sculpture race. On our way to the recital we stopped to check out the race, tutu and all.

Tap went well. A was close to the teacher and danced her heart out. It was cute. I relaxed.

In her tap outfit

They started the ballet number with the wrong song. Everyone else looked like a deer in the headlights, but not A. She started twirling immediately , she twirled so hard that by the time the real music started she had already tipped over, and was on the ground. She got up and began to twirl across the stage. Then she stopped in front of one of the other dancers and began telling her something. When questioned later she told me that she was showing off her eye make-up. Then she resumed twirling. I laughed until I cried. She was so cute, but so lost in her own little ballet bubble.

A was too young for soccer this year, so we signed her up for ballet. She is silent about the goings on and only occasionally breaks out a move that might have come from ballet class. Shannon usually takes her, but she loves her time with her daddy and hates to have to leave him. Last week she was inconsolable, and had to come home. All of this makes me think that she hates ballet, but I continue to make her participate. I am not sure if this is the right course of action. I want her to know that if she commits to something she needs to see it to the end, but on the other hand it seems wrong to force her to do something that makes her sad.

A, my girl, turned three this November. She loves sharks, dolphins, riding her scooter, Peter Rabbit, Jake the pirate, and singing. She can turn on the tears in a second and has a smile that lights up a room. Gone is her baby face, now she is beginning to look like a girl. Long and lean, the only vestige of her baby-self is a bit of pudge around her hands and her belly. She is learning to negotiate, to bargain, and to sometimes give in. She can sometimes be nervous, but often pushes through it. Hours are spent creating fantasy worlds, catching peregrine falcons, swimming in pretend seas, running from Mr. McGregor, and battling it out with Captain Hook .
I am amazed daily by this person, who is mine, but also very much her own.

Today my girly is two. I can hardly believe so much time has gone by.

Little girl, you are currently half asleep at my breast. I love watching you nurse, your eyes half closed in contentment, your hand on my sweater. We are coming to the end of our nursing relationship, and although I am glad I might have a few month before I have to start with your sibling, I am sad about ending this time with you.
We began this journey in the NICU when you were almost a day old. The hum of the machines, the voices of the nurses, and the wail of other babies were the music of our earliest days. WHen I brought you home, we watched countless hours of Law and Order SVU, until you began nursing quicker and less often.
We have been weaning slowly for sometime now. Since the summer you have been down to nap time and bedtime. Today we dropped the afternoon session. I told you we were not going to nurse at nap time today and you got very serious and said “Stop nursing”. You seemed relieved when I told you that you could nurse at bedtime.
As you are cuddled up against me, I am trying to sear this image on my brain, so I never forget these amazing moments that are soon to end.

Years ago before Ada, before even Shannon, my friend Mary gave me a little pig as a hostess gift. This pig sat in a basket in the corner of my room, until January of this year when I took it out to be a photography prop.
Slowly she began playing with it. She started to call it PIG. Suddenly PIG became part of our family. He is fed cookies. He is called for at bedtime, and when she wakes up. We can be engrossed in an activity and she will realize he isn’t with us and she will ask for PIG in her really deep little voice.
A week ago Ada woke up asking for pig. He was no where to be found. I looked every where in her room. I was sure I put him in her bed. I searched some more he wasn’t any where in the house.
Finally I remembered that I walked her around the block to get her to sleep. I retraced my steps, but he was gone.
I was sad, because I have always been bad with things. I hated that my losing things was now upsetting my child.

Update: it turned out that Pig had made it in to the carrier when we went for a walk. My neighbor found it and posted on the neighborhood list serve. Pig was then returned to us unharmed.

Ada is almost 18 months old. We are still nursing. At dinner with a bunch of moms, one of them said, “We stopped last summer, but I can’t imagine he would sit still long enough to nurse.”
I couldn’t help myself, I burst out into hysterical laughter. I laughed so hard that tears streamed down my face. The other mother of another nursing toddler giggled, as well. The non-nursing toddler moms looked at us, confused. Finally I was able to eek out words, “you think toddlers are still when they nurse? Really? Ada is the queen of nursing gymnastics.”
She has begun to calm down a bit, but there were a few weeks when I didn’t think we would make it. Monkey toes were up my nose, around my head, and pulling my hair. There were days when I was sure she was measuring just how far my nipples would travel while still attached to my body. Despite all of that I wouldn’t give up that experience for all the riches in the world.
She is down to nursing about three times a day, four if she is over tired or sick. The most important nursing session is the one before nap time, because I have yet been able to get her to nap, consistently, without nursing her down. I am okay with continuing to nurse her for a while. We are talking about baby number two and that will probably become a reality sooner than later. I am not sure if I am prepared to nurse while pregnant. Both experiences, while rewarding, have also taken their toll, and I am not sure if I will be able to eat/drink enough to maintain a milk supply while growing a person. My plan is to continue nursing, while working to get her to nap and go to bed awake. That way if we need to wean suddenly it won’t be as traumatic.