I do. Casey is fast asleep at preschool. Marcie has just finished taking a bath.
I don't know these things because I'm at home. I'm not. I'm at work. But I still like to check in every once in a while.
This morning Marcie slept late (all the way to 6:20am!), and I overslept a bit, too. When I prepared her bottle, I set it on the table so I could adjust myself with Marcie on my lap. In that brief moment, Casey snagged the bottle and refused to give it back. I tried my patient mommy voice. My forceful mommy voice. Even my pleading mommy voice. All to no avail. I had to literally snatch that bottle out of his hands, with him screaming in response. Why oh why didn't I put him in time out? Apparently Firm Mommy disappeared this morning, as she has gone off to work. It felt like all these weeks of training and preparation to be calm but firm went right out the window with my desperation to get out the door on time.
It wasn't all bad. I managed to get Casey breakfast (is it bad that he ate sour cream onion chips and dry cheerios? He refused everything else I offered), get Casey dressed (in a turtleneck under the short-sleeved shirt he picked out), and get Casey's teeth brushed. I also managed to make his lunch, dress Marcie, brush Marcie's teeth, shower and put myself together and get out the door only 15 minutes behind schedule. Pretty impressive, if you ask me. . .
When I dropped off Marcie, she initially smiled-- but clung, with her arm wrapped tightly around mine. My mother in law had to pull Marcie from my arms. Grandma managed to do so in one fell swoop-- removing Marcie and unclenching that death-grip she had on me in mere seconds. Marcie's facial expression was . . . well . . . unsure. She looked like she wanted to cry, but Jason's mom did a great job smiling and keeping Marcie entertained and avoiding tears. They stood at the front window and waved to me from inside as I backed the car out of the driveway and drove off to work. I'm sure Marcie forgot all about me within five minutes. . .
Gosh, I sure do miss her. . .