Monday, January 10, 2011

Miss Boots, so grown up...

My baby girl is growing up. This year, I resolved a lot of things for myself, but I also silently resolved some things for Sarah now that she is three: This year, she will give up the "chupie". This year, she will learn to sleep in her own bed, for the entire night. This year, I will train her to go to sleep without being rocked. She will learn to pick up her toys without a tantrum or a fight, or one of us having to go to the "mad corner" (the self-designated time out spot where Sarah goes to pout whenever something doesn't go her way. I think I have the only kid, ever, who puts herself on "time out"). A lot to ask of a three year old, I know, but most of it I believe is not unattainable, and most of it is long overdue.

Like the "chupie". Ah, the "chupie". It doesn't seem all that long ago, on the day that she was born, that I was the one that put the @#$% thing in her mouth in the first place, to quiet her, to get her to sleep just a little longer, and let's face it, in a newborn, chupies are just plain adorable. Not so much in a three year old who just holds it in her mouth all day, like that lady you see with the cigarette that forever dangles off the end of her lip, and she never smokes it. It's just there. Sarah has learned to talk around it, which is both impressive and a concern because a lisping three year old? Adorable. A lisping seven year old? Still adorable...a lisping twelve year old? Not so much...

The same is true for the co-sleeping. All my fault, and something Mike and I both gave in to just to get a little shut eye, which was cute and snuggly with a newborn, not so much when she's three and tall and used to sleeping like the letter H. Love her little feet, but they're not quite as adorable digging into the small of my back at 3 am. So, yeah, Big Girl Bed.

How is my little girl coping? I'd have to say, surprisingly well. The first night, she screamed her head off, and refused to go to bed because I refused to rock her, and my mother thought we were murdering her. The second night, she sat in the bed but rested her head on my shoulder until she started to doze. Tonight, she did the same, and now she is sleeping like, well, a baby! It may not last, but eventually, she will catch on. If it means I get to hold my baby a little while longer before she's gone, one more hug, one more kiss, one more, "I love you , Mom. Happy New Year (she has trouble getting over holidays)." Well, who can argue with that? 

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