Dinnertime has been transformed. The last few months, Jeremy and I have taken turns holding little Stitch in a deathgrip while the other attempted to feed The Child (she can kind of feed herself, but still needs help). We sneaked bites from our own ever-colder plates while Stitch made swipes at the placemat and dishes and Grace's tray, every muscle in her body focused on one thing: HAVOC.
Now we just pop her in the high chair with some Cheerios and enjoy the fun. It's like watching a drunk try to embroider with his toes.
If Emmy is Stitch, Grace is The Shy Little Kitten.
The Child had her two-year checkup yesterday. I came armed with her favorite blanket, her kitty, and many suckers. I told her all about it three times that morning: when I woke her up, when I was feeding her breakfast, and then in the car on the way there. I even gave her thigh a little pinch to show her what the shot would feel like.
I had bottles of booze waiting for me in the fridge, and plans to flee the premises the moment Jeremy got home.
No, the last checkup did not go so well. The Child is afraid of everything. Grass, wind, sun in her face. People, dogs. Do not even think about touching her. She cries if she gets dirt on her hand. She cries if someone gets too close to her.
As usual, she surprised me. She did not fuss when she had to be weighed. She did not fuss when she had to be measured. She did not fuss when the nurse had to
She did not fuss when Dr. Orange shined lights in her eyes and looked in her ears. She did not fuss when Dr. Orange listened to her heart and stomach. She didn't even fuss when she checked her hips and reflexes.
The real test came at shot time. I cringed for the happy, chattering little girl. I knew what was coming. I hated to ruin it. She was so very happy. The needle went in, The Child kept chattering, the needle came out, and she was still chattering. She smiled at the nurse.
As each person left, she said, "Tatchyou! Bye bye, lady."
I don't even know who this kid is sometimes. I don't think I'll ever figure her out. She has changed so much in just the last week. Strange people have been cycling in and out of the house for various reasons since last Saturday.
Our friends have been over helping us rebuild our back entryway. The wife is one of the least scary people I know, yet Grace was terrified of her. While I made supper Sunday night, Grace used me as a human shield the entire time. Do you know how hard that makes it to cook?
After about an hour of this, she very suddenly decided that Erin was okay. She wanted Erin to play with blocks, she wanted Erin to read to her; Erin tickled her feet, and Grace shrieked happily.
On Monday, when the realtor came over to do a few things (Grace had never met her before), Grace made a beeline for her. I actually had to restrain her from climbing all over her.
It's like she just gets fed up with being scared of everything and suddenly decides, "Okay, this is stupid. I'm just going to suck it up and enjoy myself if they insist on bringing people over." At two. I'm so proud of her.
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