Tales from the Mommy Trenches

Her chubby baby rolls have transformed into solid toddler limbs, but she will always be my roly-poly Rosa bear. The child is only 2, and she is wearing size 5T. And yet, it seems like she is constantly turning her nose up at meals. She is the most stubborn little big girl. I dedicate this post to my Rosie girl.

  
That is her favorite dress. She requests the “anchor dress” every day. And when I tell her it is dirty, she informs me that I need to go ahead and clean it. The dress is only a size 3T, so it is a little snug on her. But it seems to bring her so much joy, I cannot bring myself to telling her she can’t wear it any more. Here is the famous anchor dress on her a year ago:

  
Time, you are a cruel mistress. Also, I swear I am not feeding her growth hormones for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Or feeding her the portions of her tiny sisters.  I find it fascinating that all four girls have such totally different body types. And each is so beautiful in her own way. 

Rosie must wear a dress every day (and preferably at night). Her anchor dress is her favorite, but if she must wear a different dress, then she will settle for her pink striped dress, navy striped dress, ruffle dress, 3/4 sleeve dress, and it must be in that order.  Every time. 

  
Contemplating the epic tragedy that flowers have to lose their petals.

She just finished potty training, and it was a completely different ball game than when I first tried to train her back in February. The first time was a total failure, this time was a walk in the park. Rosie was simply ready when she was ready. There is no forcing her to do something she doesn’t want to do. She will give you her mischievous smile and proceed on doing precisely what she was going to do regardless.

  The face she makes when she is doing you a big favor by tolerating the situation, but it is far from her ideal.

She has just recently started climbing in and out of her crib at night. She will take every stuffed animal, every book, and the entire mug full of pacis, dump them all in her crib, and climb back in.  Naturally, this is not conducive to sleeping since there is no longer any room for her in the crib. This sort of jail breaking is uncharted territory for us.  Ruthie NEVER climbed out of her crib, and we finally just put her in a bed as it was beginning to look ridiculous pulling a 3 and a half year old in and out of a crib. So, we are going to have to discuss putting Rosie in a big girl bed a little sooner than planned.

  
She is very patient with Wren, and won’t lift a finger if Wren takes her toys or gnaws on her arm in a fit of pique. She sweetly sobs and calls for me instead. Her reaction to hostilities with Ruth is entirely different. It is usually your typical younger sibling ear splitting shriek of dismay. I love how sweet she is to baby Wren. I like to call them Snow White and Rose Red. 

  

  . . . one was called Snow-white and the other Rose-red. They were as good and happy, as busy and cheerful, as ever two children in the world were, only Snow-white was more quiet and gentle than Rose-red. Rose-red liked better to run about in the meadows and fields seeking flowers and catching butterflies; but Snow-white sat at home with her mother, and helped her with her house-work, or read to her when there was nothing to do.

“Snow White and Rose Red” By Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm

Seeing as Wren in typical toddler fashion looks on with glee as Ruth loses it after Wren messes something up that Ruth had devoted a lot of time meticulously setting up, their relationship is more like the Princess and the Goblin.  You know, if the Princess had no patience whatsoever. But I digress.

Rosie is so precocious, she talked really early and looks like a 5 year old, so it is easy to forget she is only 2.  Then she has a typical toddler meltdown and you abruptly remember. She is still so snuggly and always wants me to carry her up and down the stairs. Wren and Rhea NEED me to carry them up and down the stairs, so this lengthens our morning routine a bit. But I can’t complain. They won’t be little forever.

  
Today she told me she doesn’t love me any more and instead loves Ahway (my mom). I know she was just mad because I didn’t carry her down the stairs, but her words cut me to the quick anyway. I felt like snapping back, but then remembered myself and told her I was sorry she felt that way. She is even precocious in emotional warfare!

I would like to end this anecdote by saying we tearfully reunited soon after, but the truth is, she continued to be a little grump until I finally was able to put her down for her nap. We all have our off days. Rosie just has fewer of them than most.

I love you, Rosa-Pose. Sometimes, when I look at you, you look so beautiful it hurts.