Tales from the Mommy Trenches

Ah, Ruthie, Rutabega, Rue, Ruey, Baby Ruth, The Rue, Rue Baby. Rose calls her “Roofie” and our housekeeper from Guatemala calls her “Rudy.” An entire post can barely contain her, but I will sure as heck try.

  
She has always been precocious, but she was our first child, so we didn’t notice. She never ceases to amaze me with her memory and her observations on life. She turns 4 on Saturday (waaahhhhh!), and she keeps asking for a bouncy house like she had last year. Except this year she wants a “Frozen” bouncy house instead of an Ariel bouncy house like last year. I haven’t had the heart to tell her that this year we will be out of town visiting relatives, so a bouncy house most probably isn’t in her future. 

There is a pillow case we have with a stain on it that I haven’t been able to get out from when we had her face painted (at the same festival as above) and let her take a nap in her face paint. She always points to the stain and says it is from when she had her face paint on. This stain happened a year ago, and I had no idea she even realized what that stain was! Craziness.

Tonight, when I was tucking her into bed, she starts chatting with me. She loves talking about “Baby Rhea” and how she came out of my belly. She has even been known to tell complete strangers while grocery shopping with Scott that “Mommy is at home feeding baby Rhea milk out of her nipples.” And then she pulls up her shirt to demonstrate what nipples were, just in case the strangers were confused. My very reserved family did not find that story as humorous as I did. I’m sure they think I am some sort of crazy hippie mom who shamelessly nurses her babies in front of her other children. Wait, I guess I am that mom! Oh well. Ain’t nobody got time for nursing covers all day (and the babies hate having that on their heads) and it’s not like I can spend my hours sequestered in a room nursing the baby while the toddlers run amok unsupervised. If they must run amok, I would rather supervise it.

Wow, I got way off topic. Ruthie. Tucking her in. Ruth starts talking about going to the “big house like Aunt Rachel’s house” (Rachel lives in a large apartment complex) to go see baby Wren “through a big window where a woman was changing her diaper.” I realized that she was talking about going to the hospital to see Wren after she was born. It couldn’t have been Rhea, because she didn’t go see Rhea at the hospital. Wren was born almost two years ago! Ruth was two years old! This girl is blowing my mind with her memory like a steel trap. She even complained to my mom that I wouldn’t let her put her fingers in her Ariel cake for her birthday last year and hurt her feelings. Recording grievances against her mom already.

No idea how to style that poodle puff she has going on on top of her head. A ponytail up top just makes all the curls cascade out of the hair band in a perfect spherical wave that makes it look like she has a hair fountain on top of her head. And there just isn’t enough hair to do a full hair style just yet. I know, she is practically four! Apparently curls don’t grow as quickly as other hair types.

She is a very anxious child (she comes by it honestly, we suffer from anxiety on pretty much all sides of the family). When we went on a walk on a trail by the Chattahoochee River (gorgeous trail, by the way), she kept saying things like, “we’re getting farther and farther away from our car,” and “I think we’re lost!” When we walked to a little deck overlooking the river and Rosie started leaning over the rail, Ruth started sobbing and cried out, “Rosie is going to fall into the river! She’s my best sister!!” I always reassure her and comfort her. Any tips on helping a nervous child other than constant reassurance and comfort?

She is extremely self sufficient. Every morning, she dresses herself, goes downstairs, puts a DVD in and helps herself to a banana (and any cookies or banana bread that mama carelessly left within view). She can get stuff out of the fridge too, but I like to wake up with her and make her a more substantial breakfast than just banana and milk. Her outfits usually look really cute too! She’ll sometimes even throw in some edgy shirt layering.

  
She and Rosie are thick as thieves when they aren’t bickering. And she has mastered the art of offering Wren something else if Wren has a toy she wants. When Rhea smiles at her, it absolutely makes her day. She brags about it for the rest of the day. She still takes a nap every day, and will put herself to bed with little or no resistance. She is a hot mess without it. 

She is such a beautiful, thoughtful child. She looks into your very soul with those huge eyes (are they gray? Are they hazel? Are they violet? I can never tell.) I adore our nightly chats. You never know what she is going to say next.