Yesterday was a big day in our house. Our little girl finally gave up the binky. She’ll be three in two weeks and if I’m honest with you, I wasn’t in a terrible rush to get rid of it. Our dentist was fine with her keeping it until three, but even then, I’m not sure — if Audrey herself hadn’t suggested it — I’d have forced the issue for another few months. My last baby, guys! This is the last bit of her babyhood. I know it was selfish of me to let her have it so long, but I don’t care. Too much.
Anyway, she came home Tuesday night after having dinner with my sister and announced in a very matter-of-fact manner that she was through with binkies. She was almost three, she was a big girl and BESIDES, MOM, there was a baby neighbor of Auntie Mel’s who only had ONE. BINKY. LEFT. The horror!
She went on to suggest that we pack up all of her binkies in a bag and bring them to Baby Gabe after school the next day. The end. She didn’t ask for one at bedtime and when we got ready yesterday morning she made sure we had the bag. We delivered them to my sister after school (obviously we’re not really giving used binkies to a baby!) and Audrey declared, “This is my big day! I’m a big girl now!”
Done and done. WHAT?!?!!? I am continuously reminded how much I am still learning about this kid. She is an enigma.
In the midst of Audrey’s Big Day Extravaganza, Olivia started to feel a little iffy. She’s been having a tough go lately, what with the tick bite, pink eye in both eyes, an ear infection and an ongoing gastrointestinal issue that has her on a prescription antacid. Why wouldn’t she randomly throw up all over the couch right before bedtime last night? We cleaned her up and she immediately felt better, so I thought maybe it was a fluke thing.
NEGATIVE, GHOST RIDER.
We spend the next 10 hours up and down, changing bedding, rushing to the bathroom, washing up, rinsing her mouth, holding her hair as she cried and gasped between dry heave gags, “This is… GAG… the worst day ever.” Oh, MAN, was it ever. There was nothing I could really do for her except be there next to her, holding her hand. I couldn’t make it better. Oh, but I DID make it worse…
While I was dozing next to her on her bed, she yelled, “MOMMY!” so I bolted up and grabbed the melamine bowl we were using as a catch basin and as I was swooping it up to her, she sat up a little faster than I anticipated and precisely at the moment she started to throw up, I clocked her in the forehead with the bowl. Seriously.
And that, my friends, is the type of day I have on the regular. Highs and lows. Luckily, Audrey is still running around telling everyone it’s her Big Day and Olivia is feeling much better, if a bit exhausted. (I hear that, sister.) Tomorrow’s Friday, right?