pulling and pushing

I feel like I've been gone from here for months and not just the weekend and a couple days. In that time our little family's puzzle has connected a few more pieces together.

Connor looked up at me from the floor piteously post tub late last week and erupted into "mamamamamama"s. My working Mom's grinch heart grew three sizes that instant and even though I suspected it was not connected to me, but merely a new little vocalization, it didn't matter. Connor could say mama. The following day he mama'd me directly. Everyday since then when he wants me I wait a moment longer to hear that angel chorus of mamamama and my heart immediately bursts into a million pieces. Despite being away from me 40 hours each week, there is still just one singular me in his life. Phew.

Not only has he advanced his vocab, but Connor is on the brink of crawling. A note home from Miss Jen this week, "Connor continues on his quest to become mobile." He's moving himself in circles, pushing himself backward while on his back or belly, but he can't quite seem to get the concept of crawling... yet. Pulling up. Yes, he's pulling up. He's trying to climb tables and on top of the fisher price piano. He's determined. He's strong. He's that much closer to being a wrecking ball of crawling fury. Just in time to move out of Kiki and Papa's house because while I had a little girl who would sit and dump a basket of toys out to play for whole minutes at a time, there is nothing about Con that suggests he'll play quietly, politely, or sit in one place for more that 25 seconds.

Caroline's been having a little shyness at school. A little social anxiety perhaps. She's quiet, reserved, clingy at drop off. She comes home screaming, using her voice at top volume after using her tiny mouse voice throughout the day. Each morning right when we reach the neighboring town's high school she announces from the back seat that her tummy hurts. At first this caused great alarm, but I've come to understand that she gets butterflies in her tummy anticipating her school day. She hasn't been a great eater since school began. Her note from school each day reads "lunch: very little." By the time I get home she's eaten MOST of her lunch box. Turns out her father did the exact same thing when he went off to kindergarten, eating not a single morsel at school and wolfing it down as soon as he arrived home. Caroline is making friends, slowly, though I hear she a force to be reckoned with on the playground. Her father spots her by her curly hair bouncing across the bridge to the slide.

Last night she serenaded the whole family during dinner. She announced a potty run and suddenly busted out "Puff the Magic Dragon, wived by the sea, and fwolicked in the autu mist in a land call hanalee." Over and over. Hearing her, singing, happily, something she had learned at school brought me great pause and a moment of near tears. It reminded me of something, something I couldn't quite put my finger on.... she was like Boo from Monsters Inc, singing in the bathroom of the Scarers locker room. Pigtails and all. Turns out Puff is a "transition song" at school that breaks up Circle Time and leads into the first activity of the day. She must really like the first activity of the day. My little boo. You should have seen Caro today, wearing khaki pants and a grown up girl shirt. My big girl, who goes to school, who is overcoming overwhelming shyness slowly and at her own pace, but listening... always listening.

1 comment:

  1. Yay! I love this post, I love that things are starting to look up(per) for you and the boy. I love hearing about Caro's antics. I'm going to be so sad when Anna starts singing the actual lyrics to Twinkle Twinkle, instead of "Bup bup buh buh whirl some high..."

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