20 January 2012
Toddler, running with wolves…
It’s 5:15am and I wake up to the pitter-patter sound of my daughter’s feet on the tiles as she shuffles down the hallway to my room.
“Hello Mummy”, I hear her say with a bright smile on her face.
I know it is still too early for her to be up. “Oh Miss Magu, why are u up so early?” I sigh, wanting desperately to be still asleep.
“I got a poo!” she pipes, “I got a poo!”. There is nothing I can do but get up and change her nappy. I explain to her that it’s still early and she has to go back to sleep.
“Close your eyes sweety,” I say, “it’s still sleepy time, the sun isn’t up yet”. She nods her little head in agreement and pulls the blanket back over herself. “I want bottle” she starts to whine. I get her some milk, hoping it will tie her over and help her get back to sleep. It’s a habit I have been trying to break, she loves her milk bottle in the morning when she wakes up so early and sometimes even goes back to sleep again. I close her door leaving only a small gap. All is quiet, she’s happy, I’m happy.
Today is garbage pick-up and I decide to take her dirty nappy out. The truck goes past at 7am and he’s always on time. I tip-toe past her room to the front door. The keys rattle as I turn them in the lock, the screen door squeaks just a little bit but loud enough for her young ears. Not a sound from her room. Its lovely and fresh outside, the air wakes me up but I want to go back to sleep.
I crawl back into bed trying to get to sleep, it took a while. I must have dozed off into a micro sleep, couldn’t have been for long. I open my eyes with my daughter’s face 2 inches away from mine. With a big smile and as loud as she can she yells … “wake up mummy!” And laughs. She got that from the Wiggles, they say “Wake up Jeff” and he shakes himself as he wakes up. It has become a game between the two of us, she plays it with her dad too… but sometimes it backfires… like today.
5:30am “Honeybee!… why are you not sleeping? Today will be a long day for both of us”. She is wide awake and I have zero chance of getting her to sleep but I try one more time. “Hop up, come lie next to mummy and close your eyes, see mummy’s eyes are closed”. She copies everything I say, in her babble.
“Close your ahyes (eyes). Only lookie wit de ahyes”, she says innocently. She’s still learning to pronounce the words properly. “Lookie wit de ahyes”, she repeats several times. “Shhhh, sleep!” I growl.
Two seconds later she jumps up and slides down the side of the bed. The house is safe, she can’t get into trouble, she has toys and books to entertain herself. I cannot help it, I listen out to her noises, what is she up to. I needn’t to have worried she was back in a flash with two books, her hairband and her hairbrush and declares: “That maaine (mine), it go missi, it go missi”.
“What’s gone missing?” I ask but I cannot make out what she says.
I give up on the notion of any further sleep and get dressed. What time is it? Not even an hour has passed. Little Miss M becomes more insistent and wails in a higher pitch: “It go missi, it go missi, oh no! Where is it?”.
I finally worked out that she wanted her toy necklace she was given for Christmas but we can’t find it anywhere. I distract her, “what would you like to wear today, my sweet?”. She walks purposefully to her wardrobe and points to her pretty dress. Something she has not done before. I take the dress off the hanger and help her put it on. She loves it, smiling and turns around in a twirl to make her dress flare up. Then she remembers her necklace and starts looking again. I busy myself in the kitchen and put the kettle on for a cup of coffee. My kickstart it would seem, these days.
6:30am Breakfast time. Little Miss Independent does not want anything for breakfast, not even her favourite food, yoghurt. She is becoming more insistent for something but I don’t know what she wants. Opening and closing the fridge several times and tries to grab hold of whatever she can within her reach but above her eye level. My patience is wearing thinner as she starts up her whining again.
Why do kids have to whine! For goodness sake!
I know she’s tired but can’t express it. Putting her back to bed is just as frugal. I grin and bear it but feel like mother wolf wanting to get her cub back into line. She hasn’t really done anything to warrant it, except the whining perhaps.
Time passes slowly, we play a game, read a book and watch the garbage truck arrive, we wave to the garbage man, he waves back and again when he comes back down the road. It’s time to change into her kindy clothes but once again Miss M decides its GAME ON and goes completely limp when I try to dress her.
It’s actually funny watching her as she collapses her whole body into a human heap, and she laughs her cute little gurgle laugh. I tickle her knowing that usually does the trick but not today. “I tickle you,” she laughs and bolts off down the passage, with no clothes on and as fast as her little legs would take her.
I see a little girl, she’s not a toddler anymore. Has she grown overnight? She must have, no wonder she’s full of beans today, probably another developmental leap.
She sure is running, running with wolves.*
*Running with wolves is used as a metamorphosis by me to explain how I felt this morning. We do not have wolves in Australia, but some days I feel like I am the matriarchal wolf in a pack, fighting for survival.
Image source: [IMG]http://i215.photobucket.com/albums/cc49/kfachko/ascension20by20denton20lund.jpg[/IMG]