Magrilless

Miss FancyPants. That’s our girl. She’s been in the mood lately to really do it up. Almost every day at some point she asks me to put every bow she owns in her hair at once. Sometimes you just feel like being fancy, I suppose. And what a fashion statement, don’t you think?

Let’s see, what happened this week. I have no recollection. I do know that this weekend was incredibly busy, filled with so many fun adventures! We did two historic neighborhood walks around the Boston area. We went on a few expeditions in our own neighborhood, where Maggie carries around a bag and collects interesting things like flower petals and pine cones and sand. We went to our favorite local restaurant for brunch and shared a delicious vegetarian omelet. We went on a bicycle ride over the interstate to the city’s reservoir and back, at the end of which Maggie asked “again?”. Our landlord showed our apartment to two potential tenants. We made cookies. We went on a run with the dogs. We watched a dancing movie and joined in. We read books and taught Nene how to wash her hands. We took a couple naps and a family shower and threw a few tantrums and had complete physicals courtesy of Maggie and her doctor’s kit. And it’s no wonder I can’t remember what happened before Saturday!

Furthermore, perhaps it’s just me, but cutting fingernails seems like a private, sort of intimate, kind of gross activity that you really should not be doing (a) where other people can come in contact with your clippings and especially (b) where other people’s food can come in contact with your clippings. Take it to your own bathroom, please, sir.

We thought this morning was reason for a special party. Or at least special party dresses. Happy Royal Wedding Day!

Maggie has learned a new word! “No.” It’s pretty cute, actually. She repeats it twice and her little voice is so sweet. “no-no.” She sort of has a y sound in there too so it sounds more like “n-yo n-yo”. I say it’s cute, because so far we don’t really ask her questions about things where the answer needs to be yes. Or at least then we change tacks and avoid questions. “Maggie, do you want to brush your teeth?” “No-no.” “No? Ok. Maggie, I’m going to brush my teeth. Come help me!” So far mostly we’ve had success with this switch-up-the-type-of-sentence-you-use tactic. As time goes on, I’m sure new tactics will need to be developed.

Just in general, I’m having to adjust to the fact that Maggie understands pretty much everything we say. It used to be that I would tell her what I was doing or tell her what we were going to do or tell her stories as we were walking or tell her what we were passing in the car, to get her used to voices and words and the idea that people converse with each other. And now. Now she responds to talk. She answers, or she makes a gesture, or she goes and does something. If she doesn’t respond, it’s because she’s chosen not to; not because she doesn’t understand. Time to be careful, parents! (Case in point: Yesterday walking through the park after church, I leaned over to Bill and said “Look at that lady’s shoes!” As we were walking past her and her husband, Maggie repeated a couple of times “shoes shoes shoes shoes.”)

So no longer will I be referring to that one girl at Gymboree as the funny looking girl. No more saying before a visit, “I don’t think he likes kids, does he?” No conversations at the table about how gross broccoli is while trying to make Maggie eat it. Usher in the new era of secret parent language: spelling.

Maggie’s cold lingered. And lingered. And lingers. This was a week when you realize that the terrible twos will in fact be terrible. Terrible. When you repeat to yourself that studies show how parents’ happiness levels increase dramatically at three years. You will not always want to leave your child to be raised by wolves. Other kids have survived that way. But if you just make it for another year and a half, then you’ll be glad to still have guardianship. She won’t be throwing tantrums forever.

She’s such a lovely person when she’s feeling well. She’s happy and communicative and smiles and allows occasional snuggles. And there were certainly moments like that this week (see above video for your cuteness quota this week). But when she’s under the weather she doesn’t take direction well, doesn’t take medicine well, and just generally wants to kvetch. Yeah, I get it. That’s how I want to act when I’m sick too.

So we persevere. Push through that stuffy nose and grungy cough. Forget the tantrum writhing on the public bathroom floor where there was no soap in the dispenser. Explain to the visiting relatives that she’s currently a bit touchy and don’t take it personally. And then miraculously she turns a corner and feels a little better and you can get her to dance and eat some vegetables and laugh when you tickle her and stay up a little past bedtime to play a game.

Today is a better day. She’s not yet three, but we’re feeling happy.