We’re moving right along, though I have few photos to show for it. What I do have are bits of conversation, verbal scenes from our recent weeks…
On Sarah’s first day of work, things went beautifully. Niko and Angel played, took their naps, ate their lunches. No tears. No fights.
Then came Five O’Clock.
The Little Man grabbed a book off the shelf, and plopped it in my lap to read. Then he stared at the cover (a favorite from his own collection as well). His face crumpled as he realized Who Was Missing from the room…
“MOMMMMM-YYYYYYY…” he wailed.
And wailed.
And wailed.
Angel, sweet child that she is, tried to comfort her cousin with a song:
“Don’t cry, Little Man. Cheer up! She’ll be back soon…She’ll be back SOOOOOON….”
He wailed louder. And the louder he wailed, the louder she sang, until she was standing 4 inches away, her face next to his, matching him in volume…
We continued in this manner until his Mommy walked through the bedroom door at 6:30.
Things have gotten much easier since that first day, for Niko AND for everyone else. We’re better at remembering not to run inside the house, better at staying in the bed when Grandmom says it’s time for a nap…my house is full of sand from the sandbox, and dried-up dandelions that were picked and smuggled in while I was looking elsewhere.
He still has his moment (or three) of crying when she leaves, but most days, he settles back down quickly. The “Where’s Mommy?” question crops up sometimes…
“Well, Niko, where IS she?”
“In Mommy’s car seat. She go to work.” He looks at me.
“I don’t want her go to work.”
Me either, Kiddo…
“I don’t want her…” is a phrase I hear often, usually applied to his cousin:
“I don’t want her be asleep!”
“I don’t want her ride the bike!”
And, the favorite – “I DON’T WANT HER GO TO SCHOOL!”
Don’t ask me why he’s lying on the stairs – your guess is as good as mine.
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