This has been a teeter-totter week: high energy one moment/low energy the next (me, not Audrey - her high energy only runs out if she's sick); thinking the baby could come any moment/thinking the baby may never come; feeling as if everything is ready/remembering things I've yet to do; excitement at the events to come/worry for everything to go smoothly. Being in the midst of a teeter-totter week brings an appreciation for those 3-year-old moments of kindness and humor like no other time. So without further ado, here are the moments that have kept me laughing and loving this week as I wait for this ride to come to a steady stop.
Sunday, Jason sent me upstairs for a much-needed nap. I'm not sure what transpired while I was resting, or the conversations that took place. But when I came downstairs they were both seated, quiet, at the kitchen table. "I've been moved to the bad list," Audrey said, as a slightly stunned Daddy shrugged his shoulders.
Later that night, as Jason put her to bed, she told him, "My nose won't be quiet." He had her blow her nose to help quiet it down. Then, as he prepared to leave her room, she said, "Blow your nose in your room, okay?"
I apologize in advance for any visuals this next story may give you, because frankly, neither of us want that. But as a mama who has spent several afternoons chasing a diaperless (slow to potty-train) toddler through the house while warning, "don't pee in the house! You cannot pee on the floor if you're not going to wear a diaper!" This made me laugh too much not to record.
Monday, Audrey tagged along with me to my doctor's appointment. It was just a routine check-up for someone this far along in pregnancy. The nurse checked my vitals, handed me a paper sheet and told me to undress from the waist down. I followed her directions, and sat down on the exam table, covered by the sheet. Audrey watched from a seat in the corner. "Don't pee!" she said.
Jason put Audrey to bed that night. "I'll see you in the morning," she told him (something I always say to her when I put her to bed).
"Well, I might be at work when you get up," he said.
"Don't go bye-bye, okay?" she said. Poor Daddy who has to go to work.
On Tuesday, while running an errand, Audrey began examining my wedding ring from the cart. She asked what it was. I told her it was the ring her father gave me when we got married.
"I want one," she said.
"You can have one when you get married," I told her.
She tugged at my ring, trying to pull it up my finger.
"I don't want to get married today. I just want one of these."
Some comments and ideas are reoccurring this week. Twas the Night Before Christmas has been a favorite bedtime story as of late. Each time I read the phrase about Santa's beard, Audrey corrects me, "That's not a beard. It's a gotee."
And, as always, she is constantly telling us just who she is. "This princess loves you," she informed me one day. "This is Daddy's little pancake!" she said, announcing herself as she jumped into the closet where I was picking out clothes.
I can only imagine how her perceptions of herself will change in the coming weeks after her brother makes his appearance and we adjust to life with another "plus one". But for now, as her father and I balance between worry and excitement over the events and changes to come, she is the steady, running through the hallway playing hide-n-seek with her dad, the sound of knees hitting hardwood as she takes the corner too fast - a total wipe out.
"Are you okay?" I yell.
"Yes. I like doing that, Mom."
She reappears a few minutes later and tackles Jason on the family room floor before bending her arm to flex her muscle. Jason laughs. "Did you teach her that?" he asks.
"No," I say, and then to Audrey, "Where did you learn that?"
Yes, these next few weeks, there's no telling what they hold.