ONE HUNDRED SIXTY…

Greg and I were laughing at ourselves over the weekend reminiscing about how “lost” we were after we had Abby.

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When Abby was 6 months old I was coming out of the, ‘I’m a brand new mom and totally lacking sleep’ stage. For the first time, in what felt like ages, I wanted to put myself together and take my sweet new baby on a ‘mommy/daughter’ shopping date. I wanted to gauge Greg’s feelings about taking her 60 miles north to Rapid City, SD for our first outing. I was surprised when he responded with, “You’re the mom…do what you want.”  It was both empowering and arresting. And then it dawned on me…”I am never going anywhere alone ever again…I better get used to always having a ‘tag-along’.” Nine years later my 39 year old self wants to tell my 30 year old self to, “Stay at home…in your jammies all day, play with little Abby on the floor and when she takes a nap, you take a nap.”

SLEEP!

SLEEP WHILE YOU STILL CAN!!!

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Here we are 8.5 years later and I am still hell-bent on mommy  and daughter lunch/shopping dates. Even at my own peril. The fact that Cecilia is still ‘potty-training’ should in and of itself be a deterant. Anytime we go to a restaurant she asks to go to the restroom every 5 minutes. This mom still wasn’t deterred.

I really should have been though.

Taking all the girls downtown Stuart for brunch at my favorite Bistro last week, I was barely able to sit down and enjoy any part of my meal for more than 10 minutes at a time. Let this be a lesson to me when, next month I’m sure, I will forget and attempt the same feat.

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Not to mention, taking Cecilia in her stroller, into any store is an absolute nightmare. She successfully grips everything within her reach and pulls each beautifully arranged piece of merchandise to the floor. My most favorite store on the planet, Gumbo Limbo expierienced her wrath as she pulled a whimsical arrangement of pillows to their peril. As I was scrambling to pick them up (and sweating) she was on to the next casualty…a set of tin signs. Did I mention I was sweating? She wiggled out of her 5 point harness straps and with one hand pushed the first tin sign with such force, it created a domino affect…and of course, because the signs were tin, made the absolute worst sound. As Abby began picking up the signs, Cecilia was on to her next demolition assignment…a medium sized wicker basket of Christmas tree ornaments. With one hand, she flings the basket in the air and all of the ornaments explode into the air. Phoebe was on the floor to help with that one. So to sum up what’s happened so far…Abby, Phoebe and I are all on the floor picking up thrown merchandise as Cecilia attempts to escape the confines of the elusive 5-point-harness.

blog 160 e (1 of 1).jpgOn a side note, I did notice she appears to have a really good arm as far as throwing goes

It felt as though everyone in the store had gathered around to watch our little drama unfold. I apologetically began to back up the stroller AND because I was walking backward, not watching where I was going, stepped on a nice little old ladies toes and then of course ran over them with our stroller…

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It was clear to me in that moment…our little outing needed to be wrapped up. And fast.

I want so badly for the girls and I to walk downtown for little excursions. I long to have lengthy conversations with them about their hopes and dreams, find out about their interests and develope a reciprocal relationship with them. Parental in nature, not necessisarily a ‘friendship’. It’s becoming that way with Abby and Phoebe is…well she’s Phoebe June. Who knows what that means. Actually she probably does, but she’s keeping it a secret from the rest of us.

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But  Cecilia and I are not quite there yet. It will happen. For heavens sake she is merely 4 years old. I’m glossing over a decade with that one. Maybe I should just focus on taking Cecilia to as many places as I can so she will learn expectations. Or I can just hide in my house, at public playgrounds, or the beach. At least I have options.

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In the meantime, I just have to keep diving and ducking in the parenting trenches. Maybe plan a “lone personal pilgrimage” to downtown Stuart.

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