Things have been a little hairy here the last few days. Daniel has been going through a few days of separation anxiety / touchpoints / general crabbiness, and it has really worn on me. My previously very happy boy who was all smiles, all the time, is regressing to his old Señor Fussy-Pants days. Though he’s still the same sweet boy with a great laugh, he’s been very clingy and screamy if I dare to put him down, or basically do anything other than help him stand up at all times. You’d think that, rather than putting him in the beloved exersaucer, I was actually stabbing him repeatedly with a dull spoon. (Why a spoon? Because it’ll hurt more, you twit.) I even got a little preview of temper tantrums to come, complete with the arched back maneuver. Good times. I can only hope this passes soon, and he figures out standing or crawling or whatever it is he’s working on.
Rebecca also seems to be giving me a hint of the toddler days to come. I couldn’t tell you exactly what it is, and I don’t have a photograph to illustrate it, but sometimes I look at her and there’s a particular expression on her face or angle of her head… and I see her as a 3-year-old. She’s funny, she makes silly faces and scrunches up her nose, and I can tell she’s going to be up to no good at all. She’s crawling faster and faster every day. She looks over her shoulder to see me, grins, and then keeps right on going, straight for the dog’s food. And while she hasn’t been quite as crabby as her brother, she definitely has been intent on making her opinions known.
For the moment, they are blessedly napping, but off I go to pack our bag for class this afternoon. Things feel a little crazy right now, maybe because we’re woefully behind on babyproofing, so there’s a lot more running around after Rebecca….