Emma is stubborn sometimes. I know, I know! Shocking when you consider her parents! (That's enough, Mom.) For months we've been making her practice pumping her legs while swinging. She knows how. And yet won't. We've told her that when she gets to Kindergarden, the teachers won't do it for her. Still nothing. Today I figured out why. My daughter is a cute, little princess. And all the boys at school take turns pushing her on the swing. We are in so much trouble when she gets older.
"What seems to us as bitter trials are often blessings in disguise." - Oscar Wilde
I know that Jason and I worry a lot about George and we fuss about his lack of speaking and other slowly developing skills, but really I am lucky in some ways. I still have a baby. He still depends on me in ways a "normal" 2 1/2 year old might not. He may scream and flail at times, but we don't argue and I don't have to explain every action. He still cuddles and wants to be carried. He comes to me, takes my hand, and walks me to the things he wants or places he wants to go. And while I don't love changing diapers, we have some great silly moments during those times. He still holds his hands out to me when they're dirty, assuming that I will clean them. He still comes to me for food, drink, fun, and hugs; instead of running off with a pack of toddlers bent on mischief.
So yes, he wears me out. But he and I have developed some pretty great routines and habits that are uniquely ours. And today? He brought me his juice cup, set it on the counter, and while making the sign for "more", he said "juice". His first sentence. He'll get there.