Life with Oreo!

It is what helps ease the heartache of life without Thai.

Each day I watch Piper interact with the cats (of course, now it’s just Oreo), my heart melts.  Since I did not grow up with any pets, I am so glad she has the opportunity to be surrounded by such amazing creatures.  Even at two, she realizes what a joy they are and shows them respect, appreciation and love beyond what I could ever have imagined a toddler capable of giving.

Of course, it helps when you have a cat like Oreo, who is so complacent throughout her endless torture.  In fact, he often seeks her out for his daily abuse.  Piper has a tendency to teat him as her personal furniture. This was Oreo being her pillow, for a three hour nap!

How freaking cute is that!?!

Take one rough day week at work.

Add to that being stuck in ungodly traffic for what feels like an eternity.

Mix in dealing with a two year old being typically terrible.

What do you get? 

A woman who snaps at her two year old for spilling juice. A woman who barely speaks to her husband over dinner.  A woman who takes a double dose of NyQuil even though she was well over her cold two days ago and passes out on the couch before the dinner dishes are done without any regard for the house, the kid or the hubby because really sometimes it just seems like too much to the point where when Friday finally does comes around, anything left in her is just about shot to shit and useless anyway.

{deep breath}

That woman was me last night. Well thankfully, today I feel refreshed and recharged.  I spent the early morning happily playing games with my terrific two year old.  Then later, over coffee, my husband and I had a lively discussion on a myriad of topics, including how we will spend our day together.

But here’s the clincher.  Had I not made the choice to share with you this very private moment of my latest meltdown, you wouldn’t even know about it. 

Poor Britney.

That’s all I have to say about it.

The other morning we were sitting having our breakfast and Piper was eagerly searching for birds out the window.  This a regular routine with us; each time she spots one, she shouts, “mama! mama! bird! you see the bird?” And every time I give her my usual answer that yes, I see the birds, yes, I saw that bird too, yes and that one too, blah blah blah. It can be a tiresome routine to say the least.  This morning there was a noticeable decline in active birds flying about, which you would think aught to have caused less chatter.  But no, instead this only prompted an endless barrage of “where de birds” and “why no birds” and “you see birds”. Needless to say, there are many of these morning I secretly curse my neighbors for having an industrial sized bird feeder in their yard.

But anyway, there she was desperately searching for the birds when all at once she got excited and screamed out loud, “there bird!” But two seconds later her body deflated and she quietly said to herself, “no, no bird” when she realized she made a mistake.  

I was in awe. When she said, “no, no bird”, she wasn’t talking to me, but to herself. She saw a bird, but alas, it wasn’t a bird after all.  Her language moved beyond being solely for a means of communication to a means of self reflection and awareness.  It’s always amazing to me when I get to watch the development of this awesome little person unfold before me.  Now here she was commenting on the events happening to her. That one sentence gave me the indication that my daughter now has consciousness.  Not just awareness, but consciousness.  Yes, I am sure it has been developing for a while, but really, here was my proof.  And with this consciousness comes the ability to direct awareness towards displaced contexts, self reflection, leaps of imagination.  But most importantly, with it comes memories.  Memories depend on this self reflection and self awareness to make their mark on the mind.

I don’t know why (probably because I am a language dork), but this just thrills me to the core. Surely most of these memories will fade with time, especially if they are rather mundane memories that can easily blur into other like mundane memories. But, how about those that stand out? Those that depict a special moment full of fun, happiness, love, revelation, etc.? Those are the ones I want to look out for and make happen.  Suddenly, everything we do from now on will be a part of her own history of her life.

Yeah, I am a dork.  I hate when I say things that sound so hallmarky corny like that.

I want to help her have great memories. The first day of here self recorded life.

So sue me. We’re talking about my kid, after all.  In fact, Hallmark should make cards for these occasions as well.  I would buy them, if not for the child, then definitely for the moms. 

Can you just see it?

Below a crayon drawing of a child statue posed like Rodin’s thinker is written:

Congratulations on your child’s profound progress into self-reflection…

Then you open it up and it says:

Let the memories begin! 

I’d make me cry, although that is obviously not saying much, huh?

I hope everyone had a lovely Valentine’s Day! We had a snow day here yesterday and I got to spend the entire day at home with Piper.

Joy of joys.

I am so glad I work.

I honestly think if I spent all day everyday with this child, either she or I would be dead by now. By the time my husband got home yesterday, I was two shakes away from being committed. My patience is next to nothing when it comes to a two year old.

I felt like all I did all day long was yell out orders and reprimands in an endless frantic stream. “Stop that! Get down! Put that back! Don’t touch! Watch out! No screaming! Be good!” Occasionally, once in a blue moon, we actually had some fun and laughed together. But, those happy moments seemed to be fleeting and so fragile that I felt like I was holding my breath each time things were going smoothly, waiting for the bubble to burst. Inevitably, something would happen that would turn me into a raging lunatic. Sometimes it was an accident like spilled juice, but most of the times it was her. She would spit at me, or hit me, or intentionally do something she knew was not right. And I would freak.

WHY!!!!!!!

Why does she do these things to piss me off? But more importantly, why can’t I control my frustration and anger when dealing with a child? A CHILD! All day I struggled with trying to remain calm. With maintaining discipline without alienating her. With keeping my voice from rising to a deafening tone.  With acting like a mature, capable adult!

Trust me, I failed at every one of those attempts. But, the clincher was when Piper fell off her stool. That was when I knew that I was probably not going to win Mother of The Year Award. She has really been into climbing on our chairs, the couch, the steps, etc. much to our dismay. Last weekend we bought her an activity desk that came with a little stool. Well, at one point she was standing on it disregarding my warnings. She fell. As she was picking herself off the floor, rubbing her sore bum, I heard her saying to herself, “See, See. You fall…. See, See. You fall…”

Ugh! Talk about having a mirror shoved into your face to show you just how heartless and cruel you can be to a two year old! I felt terrible. God only knows how many times I have spoken those told-you-so words for her to pick them up like that. She completely broke my heart, to the point where I was totally prepared to give her anything and let her do anything, just to make myself feel more human. Add to that the two dozen roses my husband brought home for Valentine’s Day after practically abusing his child all day, and the guilt was so unbearable that I passed out on the couch from mental exhaustion by 9 PM and missed Lost.

This morning, when I kissed Piper and my husband good-bye as I left for work, everything felt right in the world again.