When Big Brother Is Away, The Girls Will Play

With preschool back in full swing, the kiddos and I are discovering a new rhythm to our days. However, I feel weirdly off-kilter. Even though it was less than two years ago, I can barely remember when George and I hit the town by ourselves, though I do remember a few too many trips to Target.

Olivia loves “airplane,” which she compels me to do anytime I’m lying on the ground. She flaps her wings to make her expectations clear.

These days, we now roll as a trio. Maybe my mom-brain has erased those early, single-child memories to ensure I remember both small children whenever I go anywhere. Thanks, mom-brain!

Now, three days a week, I only have one little tag-along. And she’s precious, so I’m thoroughly enjoying our outings to the gym, grocery store, and other errand locales.

I did, however, promise my husband that if we bumped George up from two preschool days a week to three, we’d have a cleaner house. But, hey, it’s only week two! I have pleeeenty of time to up my game, eh? In related news, we’re having our master bathroom renovated, so I don’t feel real compulsion to keep up with the dust-to-clean-surface ratio until said project concludes. It’s only rational, after all!

In the meantime, I’ve decided to become a dedicated gym rat. As Olivia has overcome some of her separation anxieties, she now trots right into the gym’s child care without a backward glance. I’m glad someone is enjoying herself while the other one of us is, well, at the gym.

Girlfriend loves her waffles.

I’m always amazed at how simple life seems when I’m with only one of my children. I can focus on the needs, wants, and desires of one tiny human instead of being pulled in different directions by two. Don’t get me wrong, I love being Mama to more than one kiddo, but my brain does get a breather when I’m one-on-oneing it.

Last week, I treated baby girl (and myself) to brunch after our gym visit. While she was inhaling her chocolate-chip waffle (I ordered it without the whipped cream and powdered sugar, so that’s…healthier!), I just kept looking at her thinking, “When have I ever just sat here and talked to my daughter?” Granted, she’s 21 months old, so a lot of her responses are pure and utter gobbledygook, but she doesn’t know that. And it’s the sweetest thing. I spent 20 minutes or so paying strict attention, and she spent that time pointing out everything and saying, “What is that? What is that?”

It’s a pretty sweet time in life, y’all, even without the whipped cream and powdered sugar.

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