Bye bye, love you

This morning as I left for work I turned to Evelyn and said, "Bye bye, love you." She looked at me and said, "Bye bye" and then smacked her lips together, the way she does when I ask for kisses.

What a beautiful way to start the week.

My little girl, so curious, so adventerous, so loving, so observant.

Our first Light Rail ride downtown. Such an adventure!

Mama Bear

Yesterday was a bad day. Really, it was the fourth in a string of stressful days this week. But let's not talk of that...let's focus on the madness of yesterday.

I'll just start from the top. Yesterday was Evelyn's second day of daycare. The first didn't go so well and I didn't knowhow the second would go. Evelyn had been a little under the weather all week (daycare germs!), not sleeping well, runny nose, general fussiness. Anyway, when I picked her up from daycare, the woman told me about her day (not so great), asked if we wanted to give it another try, and then....then, she said the following:

"I think being around other kids is important for Evelyn because SHE IS REALLY BEHIND."

Wha?! I was too baffled in the moment to ask her about it. How was she behind? Am I blinded by my love for Evelyn and not seeing some glaring issues? Should she be talking more? Should she be stacking blocks? Should she be giving me her take on the healthcare reform law? What??

I left, getting Evelyn into the car while a million thoughts swirled. But as I loaded her into the car, looking at her face so happy to see me, I knew this lady was wrong. And she wasn't just wrong, she was stupid And she wasn't just stupid, she was vile. And then, let's not pull any punches here, I wanted to cut a bitch.

I went into full-on Mama Bear mode. How could this woman tell ME that MY CHILD was "behind?" She has seen her for two days! In an unusual setting! With new kids and routines and foods and toys! I called my mother-in-law. I called my mother. I ranted and raved and thought of pulling Evelyn out of his terrible woman's daycare.

But then I listened to my own mother, who I'm sure at times has had her own Mama Bear moment, and called the daycare lady back to ask some follow-up questions.

"Hi, daycare lady. Do you have a few minutes to chat? You said something when I was leaving and I should have asked you about it at the time but I got a little flustered picking up Evelyn. You said she was "behind" the other children. Can you tell me in what ways?"

"Oh, sure, well...she doesn't interact as much. She isn't speaking as much. She won't sit down for preschool and color. She is generally a little immature. And all of these things will get better as she is --"

"Let me interrupt you right there. Can I ask...are you comparing her to the other girls in your care? Because I know they are two and two-and-a-half years old. And while Evelyn is as tall as they are and as large as they are, she is only 18 months old."

"Oh...she's only 18 months old?"

"Yes."

"I thought she was closer to two years old."

"No, she is 18 months. She is just tall."

"Oh...well...then, I'm so sorry. I was wrong. She isn't behind at all. I'm so sorry."

"Glad we had this chat, or I might have punched you in the neck the next time I saw you."

OK, so that last sentence was just in my mind, but the rest is for reals. Daycare lady thought Evelyn was older because she is tall. My mom warned me about this, and here it is. Height doesn't equal age. I know this lady knew that Evelyn was 18 months old because we talked about it and I filled out all the paperwork, but I don't think she internalized that information. Evelyn is as big or bigger than the much older girls at this daycare, and I think this lady just forgot that they are different ages. I am still worked up about what happened, but she apologized and I can forgive her.

But don't mess with my kid. I will cut you.

Beauty

First day of daycare. A little blurry, but you get the idea. Isn't Evelyn cute?


(So I mentioned in my last daycare post that Ev didn't do so well at daycare. She had a rough morning, did not nap with the other kids, but then had a better afternoon -- as long as she had her pacifier and blanket on hand. This morning I dropped her off and she started crying and saying, "Mama!"and holding her hands up. Oh, my heart ripped in two. She also made another little girl cry. ALSO, she has been mildly sick since last week, now that she's all immersed in "daycare germs." I am totally rethinking this whole idea...but, um, I guess we have no choice. Curses.)

On a happier day, a few weeks ago in some unseasonably warm weather: More fun with bubbles. Also, my daughter is amazingly beautiful.

Spring snow

Digging out from a foot of heavy, spring snow. It was wild....yesterday until about noon it was warm and sunny. Around 4pm it started to rain. Snow started around 5:30 and by 8pm there was already five inches of snow on the grass!

Luckily, this kind of snow melts quickly. And doubly lucky, our neighbor used his snowblower on our sidewalk this morning!

Razor blades and heat registers

This weekend Evelyn cut her hand in a few places. Nothing serious, just a couple of cuts requiring a couple of band-aids. Her blood is freakishly bright red (is this a little kid thing? Or just a "my kid" thing?) but aside from that and a little "oh my gosh!" moment, all was well. But what if it wasn't? I had this imaginary conversation in my head envisioning what it would be like if we had needed to go to the doctor:

Doctor: "Well, it doesn't look too bad, but how did this happen?"

Me: "Oh, well, Evelyn picked up a razor blade and started playing with it."

Doctor: Pause

Me: "Not that we keep razor blades strewn about the house! No! Um, she was playing in some construction debris."

Doctor: Double pause.

Me: "But, you know, it's not like I let her just randomly run across the street to frolic in construction debris..."

Doctor: "Okay..."

Me: "We took her to a construction site and then let her run around freely. So, you know, we're good parents."

Me: "And then when we saw her pick up something metal and shiny we thought it was just some scrap metal or a washer or something, so we just let her have it."

Me: "But it was a razor blade."

Doctor: "Security!!"

And Scene.


Yes, that was Saturday, when Jon and I stopped by his shop to check on the progress and Evelyn picked up a piece of safe-looking metal that happened to have an open razor blade stuck to the back side. Good times. Oy. That is the second time our first aid kit has come in handy in the past couple weeks. Kids...they're fun.

Fun and silly. This morning Evelyn was trying to crawl down into the heat register in the floor. I'm guessing she doesn't realize that she is bigger than the 3 inch x 7 inch hole in the floor. She kept taking the cover off the vent and trying to get her feet down in there. Cuz that's perfectly safe. Sigh...

I would like to say that Evelyn is getting increasingly more exhausting as she gets older. It's cruel, really. When you have a newborn you think you couldn't possibly be more tired. Then you get a little break when your baby starts sleeping better at night but still isn't mobile. THEN they start crawling, then walking, then running, and then the days get so tiring that you long for the days when your baby would cry every three hours because at least you could sit on the chair and hold them while being still.

But, lest you think I am a big sourpuss, Evelyn is also getting so much more fun. Her awesomeness is on par with her exhaustingness, so they even each other out and make everything totally worth it. She loves everything, she is intrigued by everything, she is learning so much that I think her head might explode with knowledge.

I love that kid. I lay in bed at night and think about how funny she is, how sweetly mischievous she is, how much I love her. During the day she can be aggravating and tiring, but it is just because she is so excited to explore the world that she can't sit still for one minute. I guess that's not so bad.

* * * * * * *
Jon's shop website is up and running! Check out www.fortunecookietattoo.com. Construction is really coming along and he should be open for business in the first week of April!

D-Day

Today was D-Day in the Lew Household.

Daycare Day.

Of course, knowing something was up or just being an all-around stinker, Evelyn did not sleep soundly last night, woke up and got a bottle sometime in the middle of the night, and subsequently slept in this morning. Of course. Because it was time to go to daycare.

So I got up and took a shower. Then I woke Jon up and said, "Um, you might want to wake Evelyn because we need to leave in 20 minutes." (He and I were both going this first morning, when normally it will just be Evelyn and I.) We snatched Evelyn from her sweet slumber, changed her clothes, brushed her hair, gathered all the enrollment paperwork, munched on a graham cracker, and set off on our grand adventure. Jon, dutifully, stopped Evelyn on the front step to get her "first day of daycare" photo. He's such a good dad.

I was nervous that Evelyn would be too sad without her blanket and pacifier. I thought she might miss us. I thought she would be scared. That was dumb. As soon as we arrived, another little girl about 2 years old greeted us, took Evelyn over to the toys, and that was it. Evelyn couldn't have cared less if we were there or not. We kissed her goodbye and she was all, "Whatever. You're still here? See ya, suckas!"

Now, I hope the rest of the day goes as smoothly. I might call during nap time just to check in. Is it OK if I am that mom? Yes, yes it is.

So Evelyn will be in daycare one day a week for now. My sister-in-law mentioned that since this is only one day each week, and there are three or four other kids the same age as Evelyn, she might just see this as her fun play day. I hope so. I hope she likes it. I was calling daycare "school," just because I thought it would be easier to say, but then Jon said maybe we shouldn't call it school until we know she likes it. Good associations, and all. I hope that Evelyn likes her day away from her house and her routine. I hope she gets to play outside and learn new skills and find new friends.

***An Update
I called the daycare lady, Mary Jo, and apparently Evelyn isn't doing so well. She was OK for about an hour and then started crying and freaking out. She won't leave Mary Jo's side. She wouldn't nap with the other children. She won't let go of her blanket. She wouldn't color. She was really only happy when everyone was playing outside. She is sad and a little scared, and so now I am, too. My little baby.

Affectedly dainty or overrefined

pre·cious (adj.)

1. Of high cost or worth; valuable.
2. Highly esteemed; cherished.
3. Dear; beloved.
4. Affectedly dainty or overrefined

When buying some new spring clothes for Evelyn this weekend, I had the thought, "But she is not precious." I mean it in the girly, frilly, #4 kind of meaning, because, of course, she is incredibly precious to us emotionally. But as a person, as a girl, she is not...well, "affectedly dainty or overrefined."

She needed a couple pair of jeans and a few dresses for the new season. I stopped at the Children's Place (having been too busy to get to the giant humongous consignment sale downtown...) and looked around. Frills. Ruffles. White and pink stripes. Bows. Tulle. Yellow flowers on pale green bodices. Decidedly NOT Evelyn.

But...is it really not Evelyn? Or is it not me, and therefore I say it is not Evelyn? Am I projecting my non-frilliness onto her? Am I buying her dinosaur jackets and black pants because they are cute, or because I am rebelling against the "this is for boys, and this is for girls, and never the twain shall meet" attitude marketers seem to have now? I'm not sure. (I mean, seriously. Why are there different sets of Leggos for boys and girls? Do girls need pink building blocks?)

Of course...really...Evelyn is not frilly. She likes dirt and rocks and airplanes and lions. Her clothes are always filthy. But, she also likes her new pink bike, squishy teddy bears and sparkly shoes. It isn't that I purposefully avoid girly things, it's just that if I see a cute shirt across a store, but it happens to be in the boy section, I don't care. Hence why she has a Broncos t-shirt, dinosaur sweat shirt, and boy jeans.

Speaking of jeans and circling back to the Children's Place, their girl jeans are lame. OK, not lame, but so not built for my daughter. Their styles are listed as "slim thigh" with whatever else they have going on. Hello! Toddlers are chunky! Slim thigh? Definitely NOT my child! She has a hard time getting up on the couch and chairs when her pants are too tight in the thigh and then she gets upset. (I can relate.) So I bought her one pair of girl jeans listed as "straight leg" and one pair of boy jeans that are roomier overall. Same length, same waist, just a different cut on the leg. Whatever.

She also got a blue tie-dye dress that will look fabulous with her beautiful blue eyes. It is cotton and not white and easily washable. Just what she needs. She needs more dresses still (because she really does look adorable in them), but I won't be getting her anything overly precious. Because it isn't her.

Funny to think that an 18-month old already has such a personality. But she does. She is 100 percent Evelyn. And *DANG* I love that kid.