1m2aSandbox

Cora’s doing very well right now
with the potty thing. Occasionally she’ll need to get up in
the night to potty, and it’s a big production: first she has
to find her bedside flashlight (to keep away monsters), then move
back her big body pillow (aka monster barrier), then come and tell
Mommy and Daddy, then go pee.


And that, you know, takes time. So when she went through all that
last night, the time taken was precious, and Cora ended up not
quite making it to the potty, instead peeing on the bath mat right
in front of the toilet.


This is not such a big deal – her accidents are pretty
infrequent now – but Brian, the parent who got up with her,
said it was actually quite cute. Apparently, as the pee ran
disappointingly down her leg, Cora looked at the mat and said,
“Well, shoot a pickle.”


Which is one of my parentally-censored “cuss phrases” I
say around the kids.


So if you hear a three-year-old saying “Dag-nabit” or
“Jumpin’ Jehosaphat”, you’ll know she (and
the phrase) are mine.


Could be worse, right?

One of the things I teach is Pilates, an
exercise form that I teach one-on-one. I train primarily dancers
looking to advance in their career, or pre-professional dancers
trying to get ready for the professional world. Maddie and Cora
know some of these dancers, as I take the girls to see the ballet
shows when I can – partly just to check up on my dancers and
see how they’re progressing.


Sometimes, too, I have to take one or both of the girls with me
while I teach. It’s not ideal, especially with Cora; both
girls are inquisitive and want nothing more than to play around on
the expensive and dangerous equipment while I devote my full
concentration to my client. But sometimes childcare just
doesn’t work out perfectly and so they come along.

Maddie’s been going through a rough
patch recently – in some ways, over the past week or so; and
in some ways, over the past few months or so. We’ve been
working through it together, and I can tell you, it hasn’t
been easy – almost too hard for me to even talk about as we
were in the throes.


She’s been wrestling with some real demons – her
worries and fears; her introvertedness being challenged at every
turn in school – and I’ve ached to see my child go
through all this. But for the past couple of days I’ve seen
something that makes me think she’s turned a corner –


I’ve seen her smile.

So I posted a couple days ago that Cora
had given her dollhouse to a little girl who’d been living on
the streets, then in a shelter, and had just recently moved into
her first apartment. Cora was thrilled to do so, and the case
worker passing it on assured Cora that the little girl would be
thrilled to have it – at two years old, the girl would be
getting her first toy.


Then yesterday I got an email from the caseworker. She’d
received a letter from the little girl’s mommy and wanted to
pass it on to us. It said, “Thanks for thinking of my
daughter for that dollhouse. She just loves it. Thanks. I just wish
I could tell the little girl who gave it to my Cookie how much it
means to her. I shouldn’t have shown it to her in the evening
– I couldn’t get her to go to bed! Thanks. And I
thought you might like to see some pictures.”

I mentioned recently that Cora’s
quite taken with her new game, Make-Up Stand, where she pretends to
be a makeup artist and will “do” your make-up for you
with real brushes and pretend powders.


I’ve grown tired of playing the game eight (8!) times a day:
the game becomes more elaborate each time, and now has to start
with me at “home” getting my purse and telling my mom
I’m going to get make-up, then “shopping” along
the walls, spying the store, unlocking it with the Sparkle Key, and
asking Cora, who has her back to me, “Excuse me – can
you please do my make-up for me?” at which point she spins
around on her stool with a smile and says, “Sure,
honey.”


And then we start all the make-up stuff.

Cora and I have recently started spending
some time at our local shelter doing storytime with toddlers and
preschoolers, and it’s certainly made Cora aware of the
bigger picture around us. When we took a peek into the new
“family” rooms in December, we saw the single room with
two sets of bunkbeds, a tiny closet, and one small shower bathroom
for a whole family. Cora thought it really cool – until she
found out it was for the WHOLE FAMILY.


Her eyes have been opened, and I know that she sees things
differently now. I mentioned last week’s upcoming trip back
to the shelter for another story time in a casual way, then changed
the subject and chatted, asking what Cora would like for lunch. She
was silent, and I asked lightly, “What are you
thinking?” and she replied, “About all the people at
the Inn who don’t get lunch when they don’t have a
home.”

Wednesday morning Cora and I went to the
grocery store, taking a quick potty break before heading out. After
arriving home, I was putting groceries away when I heard from the
downstairs bathroom, “Mommy, come look at this.”


I ran in, and Cora had not quite made it onto the potty. I
reassured her, got her cleaned up, and we went on with our day.