1m2aSandbox

I’m back, and I’m having a bit
of re-entry shock.


I spent three days learning how to sleep through the night; the
first night I woke up several times, shouting, “I can’t
hear the monitors! What’s wrong? Where am I?” By the
last night, I slept like a baby in my blacked-out room, and told
Brian glumly that it was the last good night’s sleep
I’d get in years; I’d get home and be shocked at the
monitor noises and ambient light and all that stuff, all over
again.

Bye bye, all you poor suckers who have to
live with a regular work week; I’m off for a three-day
weekend with my hubby.


AND NO KIDS!!!!


Yes, in our first vacation IN FIVE YEARS, Brian and I are
travelling to an exotic location – about five miles from our
airport, and a rather swanky tourist trap of a hotel. But you know
what? As long as it’s got blackout shades and a “Do Not
Disturb” sign for the door, I’m good.


Because I’m going to sleep like I’ve never slept
before. And then sleep some more. And when I wake up, unable to
sleep for another second, I’m going to eat some mighty fine
chocolate. Without sharing. In my bed. While I watch t.v. Shows
that don’t have any furry red monsters or dancing mice or
swimming mermaids.


In an act of heroic sacrifice, my mother’s offered to keep
the kids all by herself for three days (note to local relatives:
you may receive a last-minute distress signal for help) and we are
on our own.


I have no more to say. I must go pack my trashy novels and
eyeshades.

So if Maddie’s night-night routine
is challenging – what with all her incessant questions and
all- then Cora’s routine is downright torture. My toddler is
going through her “I hate bedtime and will do ANYTHING to
prolong it” phase, and it ain’t pretty.


Cora will argue over every aspect of her bedtime routine: brushing
teeth, getting pj’s on, pouring a glass of water – you
name it, she’ll debate it. Almost every step is a knock-down
drag-out fight, and it wears you down, trust me. There are only so
many times I can –gently but firmly – pinch those
cheeks to make her open her mouth so I can brush her teeth before I
think to myself, Heck, how bad can skipping one night of brushing
be?


I know, I didn’t say I did it. I just think it.

The following is a list of the actual
questions Maddie asked me last night, in the actual order they were
asked, when I went in to snuggle her for night-night time:

We’ve completed our first week of
school – Maddie only goes Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday
– and I can say it’s been successful beyond my wildest
dreams. Cora and I are finding our new rhythms, our new grooves,
and are beginning to enjoy our time together a little better
without feeling as if we’re an amputee missing our phantom
limb. But it’s Maddie who gets the gold star for this week.


That kid is now absolutely addicted to school. I’d suspected
that once she got past her fear of the unknown she’d quickly
grow to love it: Maddie absolutely adores routine and rules and
structure and knowing what comes next, and school plays right into
that. She sees order created out of chaos, and watches a mess turn
into a thing of structure and beauty with only squares of
construction paper and a glue stick. My girl is hooked.

I figured we weren’t out of the
woods on the whole “starting school emotional trauma”
thing, but I was assuming the stress would show on Maddie the most.
Instead, it’s been Cora who seems to be having the hardest
time.


Cora spent all day yesterday on an exhausting emotional journey,
going from manic to depressive in seconds flat. She woke up an hour
early, crying and clingy and unable to get back to sleep. Then she
spent the morning begging me not to take Maddie to school –
to not leave the house at all. She didn’t want me to go by
myself, and didn’t want to come with me to drop Maddie off.
Cora simply didn’t want it to happen at all.

Several of you have written in
congratulating me on Maddie’s successful first day of
preschool. And pretty much all of you wanted to know one thing: how
did Mommy and Cora fare on that first day?


The answer – probably not quite as well as Maddie did.


I have to admit that I wasn’t too teared up about the first
day. I was nervous and worried, largely in anticipation of
Maddie’s reaction. I’d spent so much time trying to
orchestrate the morning for maximum smoothness that I hadn’t
really thought about myself in the situation. I mean, I knew it was
a big day, my baby growing up, blah blah blah, but I hadn’t
had a chance to wallow in the feelings.