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.

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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.

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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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