Christmas Funny - something to remember

This Christmas was the best one so far with Jenny.

First we explained who Santa Claus is and what his whole purpose was.
We celebrated Jesus's birthday and sang him Happy Birthday.
We didn't make it to church, so I have another extra Christmas dress that was never worn. Maybe it'll be good for Easter - red sparkly dresses for Easter are okay, right?
We made reindeer food at preschool and had fun talking about how it would help the reindeer find our house.
And then on Christmas Eve, before Jenny went to bed, we picked out two cookies to leave for Santa.
(Presents came under the tree once she was in bed and after I got back from mass).

Christmas morning began with a shower for Jenny - those diapers don't hold 35 pounds, I tell ya.
After we cleared the mess and reset the bed, Tim and I led Jenny out to see the presents beneath the tree. Jenny was so excited. Her eyes were wide as saucers and her little mouth dropped open like she was planning to catch flies with it. It was priceless.

Wanting the full experience, we showed Jenny that Santa had eaten the cookies we'd left out the night before. We told her, "Look Jenny, Santa ate all the cookies." Jenny's face just fell and her eyes welled up with tears. "Oh no!" she cried, "Santa ate all the cookies!" Jenny had mistakenly thought Santa had eaten all of the cookies in the house. It took a few moments to get her back calmed down and to show her that indeed we still had plenty of cookies left in the house, before she was able to focus again on the presents under the tree.

Jenny's Christmas was a great experience. She opened a gift, was instantly amazed by it, insisted that we open it (which of course we did), she'd play with it while Tim and I exchanged gifts and then we'd call her back to open another and so on. It was a wonderfully fantastic morning full of joy and peace and fun.

I can't help but wonder if next Christmas will be as much absolute bliss as this one was.
Thank you Santa for a really great gift.

Progress toward the Goal

The first night after I got Jenny to do a nap without her Binky, we allowed her to have it. She'd been running a fever of 101.5, so we made the parental decision to allow her to have it. Even the next day during her nap, she had the Binky. I feared that we'd failed even before we'd had the chance to try.

Once it was clear that Jenny was not actually getting seriously sick, we returned to Plan A on Thursday night. I set things in motion by telling Jenny how proud I was of her for sleeping without her Binky for a nap and how happy it would make both Daddy and me, if she went without it for the night.

Unbelievably, she agreed.

Jenny was very enthused about giving up her Binky and being a big girl and making Mommy and Daddy proud and happy, so we went with it. A tiny bit of fussing and she was out.

So Friday came and I went to put Jenny down for her nap. She cried for exactly four minutes and thirty-eight seconds. Meanwhile, I re-organized the stuff under my bathroom sink. I had to stay focused on something while she fussed. It was heart-rending and twice, I picked up a spare Binky and headed for her door. I could hardly bear the sound of her grief.

But finally, Jenny did settle down and she did get some rest.

And tonight, Jenny went to bed without a Binky, again. No fussing and only a little reading to her dolls, but otherwise a peaceful night.

God, I hope this lasts.

Part of me thinks this is too easy right now - though this afternoon was rough. Maybe she really is ready to become a "big girl". I don't know that I'm ready, but maybe she is. She's out of her high chair and now she's given up her Binky. Next, the diapers will go and her bed rail will disappear.

And I'm not sure that I'm ready for this.

With each new stage of Jenny, I first face it with curiosity - what will she be like with all this "grown-up-ness"? Second, I see the benefits of the new stage - I have my snuggler back and she's so smart right now, doing so very well. And then comes the worry - I like this stage, I hope it doesn't pass too quickly. And last comes the sadness - I miss how dependent she was on us. What if this new stage doesn't include us so much?

I can't keep Jenny from growing up and I certainly don't want to wish any moment of her life away. But my job as her Mom is to work myself out of a job - give her everything I can and then let her go. And no matter how hard I want to keep her frozen in this moment, this one shining moment, I cannot.

One foot in front of the other

Our pediatrician told us to ditch the pacifier a year ago. Her rationale included a warning about how difficult the binky-sucking habit would be after she turned three; the term, "Near Impossible" entered the conversation, I believe. We tried and failed, but our relatives, the babysitter, and everyone else it seems, could get my dear Jenny to go without it. 

So we're making a plan to help Jenny get rid of her pacifier by 2012. I'll keep you posted on how things are going.