Many weeks ago, we had the opportunity to spend time with Little Bun and Miss I's cousin from afar. During most of his visit, C had very little interest in anyone but his Momma, but on the last day of their visit, he wanted to sit on my lap for a bit. Miss I was not pleased. She took a deep breath and haltingly informed me "I want . . . C . . . a sit on own . . . Momma's . . . lap." I said I understood her feelings, and she went off to play with Daddy. When she returned, C was on a blanket on the ground playing with his trucks. "You tell C no more sit a my Momma's lap?" she inferred, and she beamed with pride that I had done the right thing in her eyes (I hadn't -- he'd simply had enough snuggling.)
Miss I returns to this scenario daily right now, informing me again and again that she wants C to never sit on my lap again. She also tells me I'm not Little Bun's Momma, only hers. It has been driving me mad, as has the return to just-home level tantrumming, however well justified (C's visit, our move, the birth of my other nephew -- which so clearly rocked her world).
So when Little Bun went to Grandma Bloom's for a few days, Miss I indulged her baby self. I gave her many choices for how to spend our day together, and she chose to spend it in a rocker with a sippy cup held like a bottle. Inside I was going crazy thinking about all the productive things I could get done with just one kid, so I hoped like crazy that this WAS productive. If she was going to stay a baby I was going to stay out of sorts. I like my little-big girl.
Fortunately this morning she woke up and decided to be a big girl.
I suppose she just needed to have the choice.
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