So why the hormones? Why the volatility and why the so so so so so tired all the time? Why do I feel my limits being pushed much more than when I was huge whale with a tiny bladder? Oh. There is that key difference between last time and this time:
the almost-two-year-old
This girl knows there's something strange afoot in the Pope apartmenthold, and she's authoritatively seizing her opportunity to start tap tap tapping on some boundaries. See if those puppies hold up to a little persistence and a lot of attitude. Well, sometimes they do and sometimes they don't.
Jordan has the distinct advantage of having two of the most stubborn people my mind can summon up as her parents. Sean often says he thought he was the most hardheaded person he knew until he met me. And then I usually reply "Sean, you're way more stubborn than I am." and he concedes "Ok, you're right." just to make his point. So, are intangible qualities such as determination and unbending tenacity genetic? Because...Jordan got the best of both wills. Except by best I actually mean worst because it's not so lovely to try and discipline that crap. Basically the three of our stubborn wills look like that thing that all those guys do in rugby before a play
my head is stronger than yours. nuh-uh. uh-huh. nuh-uh. uh-huh.
Fortunately and unfortunately, I think, Jordan has a flash-in-the-pan temper. If we're going the hereditary route, that's from her dad and from my dad. My temper's a slow boil, crockpot style. And the meal at the end of that one is not yummy. But Jordan's comes on before you can see it and no sooner do I feel the wind-up and smack to the side of my face, is she signing "I'm sorry," stroking my hair, and sighing "ohhhhhh" while she rests her head on my shoulder. Um, what?
Remember that song by Alanis Morrissette from like the 90's? I'm a little bit of everything, all rolled into one: I'm a b-, I'm a lover, I'm a child, I'm a mother, I'm a sinner, I'm a saint, I do not feel ashamed. I'm you're hell, I'm your dream, I'm nothing in between.... That's Jordan's anthem right now. She is such a loving, affectionate, happy, doting little toddler, oh but you better hand her that granola bar quick quick QUICK. Too late, now she's this
It's a tough spot with her right now too, because she is acutely aware of when she's done something wrong. She backpeddles immediately and goes into her new Divert! Divert! Divert! mode, which goes like this: Mom hands Jordan a bowlful of strawberries. Jordan eats them contentedly until she sees that Mom has some of her own strawberries. Jordan wants those ones. Jordan throws her strawberries across the floor with the type of accuracy that ensures every single strawberry has been evacuated from the bowl and is in fact on the floor. Jordan sees that Mom is upset about this development. Divert!! "Hi, Mommy. Hi, Mommy. Hi, Mommy. [make sure head is slightly and adorably inclined to the side, wave hesitantly, and employ soulful puppy eyes as effectively as possible]"
As upset as I am when she pulls these types of daily antics, it is so hard not to smirk when she does her "Hi, Mommy." tactic. Why does she think that fixes what she did? Why is it so cute when she does it? How do toddlers intuit parents' weaknesses?
I know things are going to change soooo much in less than two months now. I'm soaking up the last of the Jordan-only time, even the frustrating parts. My last day of work is a month from now, and I'll have 2-3 weeks to just spend with her, just us, before our family of three becomes four. I am so excited for this new one to make his entrance into our lives. The imminence of the occasion, however, is making me nostalgic and weepy. It'll never be just Jo and I again. And I know it will be much much better, but it's such a crazy thing. I don't just have a kid anymore, I have kidS. Kids! You'd think I was an adult or something.
Well let's not get carried away.
ps. Google Reader, I'm sure you know, is kaput in less than a week. You can follow on Bloglovin' if you wanna. I put a button up and everything. See you there?
Oh Jordan... she knows what she's doing doesn't she? She can really work it.
ReplyDeleteAs you know, I'm a mother of sorts too (not really but bear with me). My dog, Belle, knows exactly what to do. When you walk past her or look at her she rolls onto her back or side, puts up her paws, wiggles her tail, and silently begs to be petted. Or if you tell her "On the bed!" she goes into severely crippled mode and liiiiimmmmppppssss her three little legs on over to her bed. She knows what she's doing too. But she could probably take some notes from Jordan.
Okay, now that I've made this all about ME let me say that I'm proud of you for putting that Bloglovin' button on. Good job!
Jessie I'm so excited for you!! Two. More. Months!!!!!
ReplyDeletestrawberries on the floor- totally unacceptable. don't let her get away with it. ;) (that is a wink, but it looks kinda odd to me. not sexy at all.)
ReplyDeleteMeredith Brooks
ReplyDelete