The Child had some shots last week. Three instead of the usual one, since I was popping out another at the time of her last scheduled appointment.
Three days later she turned into Gollum. Stinker Gollum, not Slinker. She's ordinarily so sweet that I forget she's still a toddler underneath it all. She's selfish and has zero emotional control. So I freaked out and was just sure that the terrible twos had arrived early.
Well, no. Monday was spectacularly awful. We spent the ENTIRE day at odds with each other. I kind of wanted to run away.
Tuesday she woke up with sunshine shooting out her rear end. It was almost creepy, how drastically her temperament changed overnight. She's been happy every day since.
Not only that, but she's no longer terrified of grass, dirt, sticks, the outdoors, the porch, or falling. Since she learned to walk a month and a half ago, we've been forcing her to go outside daily and experience nature. She did not appreciate that. She'd plop down on the sidewalk and cry. If I was feeling really mean, I'd stand her up in the grass and walk a few feet away. That would really set her off. Grass! It is green! Like vegetables!
So Tuesday I took her outside and braced myself for yet another ordeal. Instead, she cruised around the yard for an hour while I picked up sticks and branches (our trees shed more than most cats). She sat in the grass, touched it with her hands. She played with sticks and got dirty. Best of all, she started falling on purpose and yelling, "Whooooah!" every time. A couple times she even smacked face-first into the ground and didn't even slow down (before Tuesday, she would ordinarily soooob after a fall for at least ten minutes, even if we weren't around to see her fall).
And now that she's past that, I can say out loud (or write, I guess) that I was starting to worry about her weird aversions--especially her fear of different textures. She's always been very princessy about different textures, and while that's nice for cleaning up after meals, a voice in the back of my head kept chirping, "Sensory integration! Sensory integration! Sensory integration!"
Of course, there's a tradeoff: she now plays with her food. Her most favorite game is to pick up as many of one vegetable as she can fit into one fist and then cram it into her seat. Super!
And that's about all she does with vegetables. Every so often she'll become very interested in a particular vegetable and eat it until she's ready to pop. The latest was broccoli ("Boppoli? Boppoli? Boppoli?"), but she's over that now. SO over it, Mama, THANK YOU VERY MUCH. But other than that, she'll have nothing to do with actually ingesting the things.
I remember how proud I was of my little adventurous eater. Before Emmy was born, Grace would eat almost anything we put in front of her, so long as it was something we were eating, too. She had her picky days (usually while teething), but normally she was the black hole of hunger. We got back from the hospital, and she would eat only bread, oatmeal, yogurt, and fruit. For weeks.
She's gotten better, but her diet is hardly well-rounded. At every meal, we have a few things to eat, and there's always at least one that I know she'll like. If she doesn't want anything else, that's too bad. She'll just have to go hungry. Before bed, if we've had supper early, I'll offer her something from dinner, but she always refuses.
Some days all she eats is three servings of fruit and a few Cheerios. She's clearly not suffering, and I know that if we make it A Thing, it will become A Bigger Thing, something she knows she has control over, and that will just make it so much worse. But it bothers me! She's missing out! That, and she has terrible taste. I made some broccoli the other night that was TO DIE FOR, and she took one bite, made an awful face, and refused any more. The broccoli she snarfs down as fast as she can? That would be the frozen stuff out of a plastic bag that I heat up in the microwave. No seasoning. Ew.
Something good and not child-related... Hmmm...
(I KNOW all I talk about most entries is TEH CHILDRUUUUNNNNSSS, but believe me, it is not because I'm choosing that topic above all others. It's because that's what I do all day long. There is no other topic, for the time being. People without kids talk about work, home life, and recreation on their blogs. Because that's what they do all day. Two very small children and housework take up ALL of my time, except for a 45-minute window in the middle of the day, which I usually spend exercising. I get two minutes here and there all day--thus the Facebooking--, but no chunks of time, and that means there isn't much else to talk about. I can't wait until Emmy is sleeping 12 hours a night. That will let me have more of a life. Hopefully that's about a month from now, as it was with Grace.)
Remember how I was so happy about dropping so much weight right after Emmy was born? Well, I've gained five back. And it's not a day-to-day fluctuation kind of five pounds. I always weigh myself in the morning after feeding Emmy and before my shower, and it's pretty steady at +5 pounds. Yarrr. I don't get it. I'm eating healthier and less food than I was, I elliptical for 25-30 minutes a day, and I usually go on a long walk every time it's nice out. All that, plus I spend almost the entire day moving around. I know housework and childcare aren't exercise, but the only time I rest between 8am and 8pm is when I'm feeding Emmy.
And no, it's not all muscle. My waistline has shrunk a little bit, but for the most part I'm the same size all around. I don't expect to lose much weight as long as I'm breastfeeding; that tends to make your body cling to a few extra pounds for dead life, it seems. The next person who tells me breastfeeding "JUST MELTS THE WEIGHT OFF!" will get a punch in the face.