It’s been so hot and humid here lately we’ve mostly had to hunker down(definition #1, NOT #3!) in the house. The heat hits you in the face when you walk out the door. Even hanging clothes on the line causes one to work up a good sweat. I hate being hot, heat sweating in odd places. And even though I love her to death, Elizabeth gives me lots of other places to sweat, too–a sweaty neck, sweaty crook of my arm, sweaty where her heads rests on my chest when she’s in the pouch. Sometimes, I have to peel her off of me in order to lay her down in her crib.
Now, that I’ve spent a whole paragraph talking about sweat….
In order to stay sane and cool, we’ve been getting in to lots of art projects.
Emma has been figuring out how to draw birds, horses and turtles lately. And I’ve been working on the beginning stages of swallow mobile for Elizabeth’s room.
And the staying sane bit of this post? Well, my sweet three year-old seems to be going through some difficult phases lately. I’m attributing them to "my newborn baby sister’s not so exciting anymore, I’m now the middle child" feelings. She’s become completely attached at the hip with me. I can’t get her to go anywhere, do anything, without me. Even my best safety net–going down to the pool with my Dad’s wife–doesn’t work anymore. It worked last summer. It’s all a bit exhausting.
And as of this week, she’s become afraid of EVERYTHING when she’s going to nap or bed. Everything. I really mean it. She hears every noise and sees every shadow–from me dropping something out in the living room, to a car driving by, to someone walking past her door, to the fan in her room making her sheets flutter. Usually, she can even identify the noise she hears, or why something looks scary to her–but admits she’s still afraid.
And thunderstorms?? Forget about it. Yesterday afternoon she was so scared by a thunderstorm her teeth were chattering. When I walked into Elizabeth’s room to pick her up out of her crib, Mary walked beside me with her hand stuffed in my pocket. Yup, this phase is exhausting, too.
But, I’m hanging on to that little word: "phase". Confident that it all will pass. Either that, or I’ll pass into insanity. One or the other……