So, with all the pregnant talk around here it's easy to forget there's still a toddler (preschooler?) running my life. Well, maybe it's hard for you to forget. Me? Not so much. Delaney's been plenty busy these days, talking up a storm, and plotting to take over the world. That girl's got an agenda and generally I just get in her way.
Her latest parlor trick is crawling out of her crib. Which, you know, is big fun. I figured we'd have at least 2-4 more months of blissful crib sleeping before we'd have to kick her out of there and into a big girl bed to make room for new baby. But she's decided cribs are so early 2007. We tried to convert her crib into a toddler bed last night but just after Roger took it all apart we realized we have no idea where we put the special toddler bed screws oh, about 2 1/2 years ago. After late evening trips to W*l-M*rt and L*we's we still didn't have what we needed so he had to put the crib back together again. Delaney didn't complain. She was so tired by that point that I didn't think she'd make any kamikaze dives until morning when we'd hopefully hear and catch her.
Speaking of kamikaze dives, Delaney's also turned out to be somewhat of a daredevil. And here I'd thought I'd only have to worry about that kind of crazy behavior if we had boys. Wrong. She doesn't realize that she's too young, and often too little, to do the same things that bigger kids do. Today at her 8-year-old cousin's birthday party at Inflatable Hell, she took off running, jumping, bouncing, sliding, climbing and falling all over that lawsuit-waiting-to-happen place. While I, her not-so-stealthy pregnant mother, ran in what can only be accurately described as first-time-mother terror trying to shield my baby girl from harm. Her response? Screaming, "Go away!" as she flew past me. I never did catch her nor did I catch my breath. Dear lord, if this new baby is a boy what on earth will I do?
As I mentioned, she's talking all the time about everything and everyone. She awakes each morning in mid-conversation as if she's continuing whatever sleep-induced conversation she'd begun having in her dreams throughout the night. And, because she's so verbal, I have to remind myself that she's not even 2 1/2 yet. Her verbal skills confuse me into thinking she's much older than she is so I'm not as prepared as I should be for those two-year-old tantrums that smack me out of nowhere or the fact that she's not potty trained yet.
Of course my hope (my wish, my dearest desire) is that she will be out of diapers before new baby arrives. The thing about it is that she totally gets it. She knows when she needs to go and 7 times out of 10 she'll tell me when she has to pee pee and we make it to the potty. That's the easy part. The hard part is convincing her that poo poos belong in the potty. She'll tell me she has to make one and I'll say, "OK. Let's go to the potty!" And she'll tell me-- as if I'm the simplest-minded person she ever met--"No! Under the table." The dining room table, that is. She'll even jump off of the potty after a pee pee, begging for a diaper to be put on so she can, "Poo poo under the table." I expect she'll grow out of this at some point because it'll make for some ugly dinner parties in our future if not.
As for her feelings about new baby? She seems excited if you ask her about it or have her tell you what she's going to do when she's a big sister. First off she'll tell you, "I'm already a big sister!" and then she'll tell you all about how she's going to put the baby in a stroller and walk down the street with her and her cousin will be there too. It's cute and charming, the way she's projecting how things will be. I hope the transition for her will be as easy as that. But something tells me that one day new baby will rock the daredevil's world domination plan a bit. And that's when the real fireworks will start.