We’re not even going to talk about Saturday.
Sunday, Anonymous Husband and I got a HUGE chunk of Christmas shopping done. I’m so proud and relieved. The stores weren’t quite at the insane, claustrophobia-panic-inducing craziness yet, but they were getting there. But we were quick, stuck to a list, got a little creative when necessary, and popped off at least 10 of the 30 humans and animals we buy for. There’s still a lot left, but a third done by the last week of November is pretty darn good for a procrastinator and a non-shopper.
While we were out punishing our Mastercard, Eirinn was at Anonymous Grandma and Papa’s house. Eirinn doesn’t often nap there; it’s just too much fun and excitement and she wouldn’t want to miss one second. Not for lack of trying by Grandma, Eirinn just won’t give in. So she went without a nap yesterday. And, surprisingly, she wasn’t too bad without it. We could tell she was tired, but she was coping reasonably well.
In the bath when we got home, she had passed the ‘coping reasonably well’ stage and was ready for bed. She wanted her blanket in the bath with her, which, obviously, was not possible.
“A-lankie…Mommy? I crying.” Which she was.
And she continued to cry big, fat, sad, tired toddler tears until I got her out and dried off. Laying on the ground with her blanket, soother (which is for big girls when they go to bed, and she was on her way so she was allowed to have it), still wrapped in the towel, and her diaper, everything was ok.
“I have A-lankie, I have sooder, I have towal, I have diapie. I happy.”
Sometimes she can be the sweetest little thing ever. And other times…we’re not even going to talk about Saturday.