my do dit

Yesterday morning, Piglet got down from her chair after breakfast and gleefully exclaimed, “Time to get ready for schood…go see Ms. D”  (so excited that she skips the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse part of our morning routine).  The she tries to put her shoes on.  I stop her and say that she needs to get dressed first.  So she runs into her room yelling, “My do dit by myself”.  I follow her to help her pick out her clothes and she points to the door and says, “no, Mommy leave”.  Then she closes the door.

I sit in the kitchen waiting not-so patiently as my baby-turned-big-girl grows up too quickly behind that closed door, a little worried about what she would pick out and knowing that I would have to support her independence no matter what it was and let her go to school regardless of the chosen ensemble.

When I go back, her room looks like the room of a teenager deciding what to wear.   Shirts and pants strewn about the floor.  She looks at me and exclaims with pride, “I did it, Mommy”.    She was dressed, and did mighty well.

It’s funny because she has never worn this shirt before (it was a hand-me-down and I didn’t think she would like the turtle neck) and certainly not with these pants.  But by golly, she matches.  She is weather appropriate.  And nothing is on backwards.

In related news, she can get in the car, climb into her carseat, and buckle herself in all by herself.

Also in related news, she can play mom against dad.  Yesterday afternoon while in the car, she said wanted juice when we got home.  But then she took her shoes and socks off, which drives me bonkers (and she knows this), so I said, “alright, no juice when we get home, you’ll have to wait for dinner” and there was wailing and gnashing of teeth.  Not 10 minutes after we get home, I walk into the kitchen to find Russ fixing her some juice.  But I still won, he’s on my side.

While I’m really sad that she’s growing up and getting so independent and not needing me as much, it is definitely for the best because there will soon be another little person who needs me a whole lot.  I guess the timing is pretty good afterall.  Score:  my plans: 0; God’s plan: 50 million (at least)


2 Responses

  1. they grow up too fast….

  2. ok – now I have to know about the Mickey Mouse morning routine!

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