Yesterday, Lucy climbed up the ABC at the park without any help. I was standing 10 yards away. Before today, I have always been right beside her at the park.
I admit, I made some advance decisions that may have precipitated this event. I brought Zoe to the park an a leash. This, of course, meant that I had to keep track of Zoey--that I couldn't be on the big toy with Lucy. I also let Lucy bring a doll in a stroller. Who, you may ask will tend the baby? I explained to Lucy that I had to take care of her baby and Zoe and that I would be watching her the whole time. She accepted this pretty quickly and went into the fray alone.
A thought about parks: A friend and I arranged a lunch date recently at a park where our kids could play. I suggested one park and my friend explained that because it was such a busy park, we could go to a different one. I'm not sure why, but I much prefer busy parks over parks where there may be just a few kids around. I like the energy, I guess.
It took Lucy a while yesterday to move from watching people to actually playing herself. ...Made me think about how I sometimes hang back to observe. And then, of course, there's her daddy. I remember the first time I saw him at a house party in college. He was doing his best to either pass as a hat rack or blend into the wall.
So there I was, watching my two-and-a-half-year-old climbing up the ABC slide, and I was a little sad that she is growing up so fast. I was also very proud of her.
Once she started moving and not just watching, Lucy was running and sliding, shouting silly sounds and making friends. (Shouting silly sounds and making friends closely linked.) She would come back every once in a while to check on the baby that she brought with her in her little pink princess stroller (thanks, Aunt Rebecca!).
I forget how drawn kids are to dogs, even though Zoe and I are approached by dozens of kids any time I take her with us to the park. Yesterday was no exception. Zoe is such a good sport, very calm, wagging her tail, only putting her nose to a few faces. She was restless after a couple of hours on leash, though, so I let her off to do a few tricks for the kids. They think she is amazing when she jumps for sticks. They love to see her "steamroller". The steamroller is a trick where Zoe rolls over 3-4 times in succession. We had a little crowd gathered.
I was just trying to keep Zoe busy and engaged so she didn't get into trouble.
Lucy was sitting with the rest of the kids, having a good time. She and another little girl were holding hands and she was holding a cute little stuffed animal, a white puppy. Another little girl, somewhat older, caught my attention and asked me if she could give Lucy her stuffed puppy. She explained that Lucy "really liked it and wanted it and that she got rid of most of her stuffed animals and got the puppy at her friend's house just barely and that since she was getting rid of all of her stuffed animals anyway, she might as well let her have it."
I told her that that was very nice of her and that she didn't have to...but that if she wanted Lucy to have it, she could give it to her.
The little girl then got a slightly pained look on her face and explained that she wanted to give it to Lucy. I'm betting that that little girl has been very attached to stuffed animals and is trying to let them go.
This is how Lucy gained another stuffed animal. It's cute. Very soft and fuzzy.
I have mixed feelings about this.
On one hand, I want to encourage any child to share, especially if they want to. On the other hand, I worry that Lucy will feel entitled to other people's things.
How much longer will she listen to me? How much more time do I have to teach her? Thinking about it, I guess that's the wrong idea. She might listen to me a lot or a little, but she will pay much more attention to the way I act. Sometimes I have to remind myself.
Last night at the table, Lucy and Brian were having cookies and milk. I may or may not be a little over-concerned about her junkfood intake. Anyhow, I expressed this to Brian briefly. He asked me if it was a problem that Lucy was having cookies. I asked him if HE thought it was a problem.
Lucy then asked me )with her head tilted to the side the way she does when she is inquiring), very seriously and with a high degree of expression, "Is that a problem, Mom? Is it?"
I didn't laugh, but I wanted to.
Brian couldn't help himself.
Brian couldn't help himself.
She's fantastic, if I do say so myself.
