Bridget melts my heart.
Saturday night was rough. I went to bed at 10:00, exhausted from a lack of sleep the night before (family + karaoke + beer + a toddler who gets up around 7:00 am = five hours of sleep). Around 11:30, Bridget woke up and started screaming. Highly unusual for my daughter. She wouldn't stop after I went in and covered her back up, so eventually I picked her up and went to rock her back to sleep in our borrowed lazyboy. But that didn't work, either. She kept screaming, but (also unusual), wasn't squirming—would just lay there screaming. I realized pretty quickly that she was having trouble breathing; she'd had a cold since Wednesday (and some nasty diarrhea to boot) and been incredibly snotty, and by the sounds of it she couldn't breathe very well through her nose. She was also incredibly hot; she kept sweating (ironically, she didn't seem to have a fever). I thought her little throat was probably sore, too, from all of the snot-drainage that had been going on that day—I know that it bothers me more when I try to lay down (breathing, drainage, etc.) than it does during the day, so I gave her some infant Tylenol and hoped she'd fall asleep. I asked Al to pull the humidifier/vaporizer out of her closet (yep, I just put it away within the last two weeks) and fill it with water and put some Vicks in it in anticipation of putting her down when she was sleeping. But since it's hard to get out of that chair when she's sleeping on top of me, I told Al to come check if he noticed I wasn't back yet and it was quiet.
For the next two hours, Al must have come out and checked on us two or three times. Bridget would calm down and be quiet, but wouldn't sleep, so I'd send him back to bed. In between the quiet times, the screaming would come. Finally, around 2:30, I decided that I'd try putting her into her crib during a quiet bout. I thought she'd breathe easier with the humidifier/vaporizer in the room and it had to be more comfortable (and not as hot) for her in her crib. All was well until I realized Al hadn't put the Vicks in the vaporizer. I did that and tried climbing back into my own bed but Bridget started screaming. I laid there for a minute or two listening and praying, exhausted, not quite sure what to do. Finally, a thought came to me: she wanted me, I wanted her in her room. I'd blow up the Aerobed (queen size), put it on the floor in her room, and she could sleep in it with me. (Now some of you are wondering why I didn't just move the humidifier/vaporizer into our room, but a) I am adamant about not wanting my kid(s) to sleep in my bed—it's mine and b) our bed is already crowded enough with two adults and a rottweiler, who might get a teensy bit jealous and passive-aggressive since she thinks the bed is
hers and try to either sit on Bridget or crowd Bridget toward the end of the bed and lie in between us where she (the dog) thinks she belongs.)
It worked beautifully at first. Bridget was
so happy to be out of her crib and on a mattress with me and cuddled with me. I was thanking God for inspiring the idea, glad that we would both finally be able to get some rest. That lasted for about five minutes. Then Bridget decided it was play time (she likes playing on Mommy and Daddy's bed during the day, jumping and falling on top of me and attacking me, and hey? Wasn't this the same thing?). I struggled with her and, yes, got a little mad and impatient (I keep reminding God at these times that I
didn't ask to be taught/have patience, and he really doesn't need to test me like this). This went on for at least an hour or more until she finally wore herself out and decided that, yes, Mommy must be right and it's time for nighty-night. As she cuddled with me once more, she suddenly started saying the word that melted my heart and made me (almost) happier than I've ever been before: "Happy. Happy. Happy." I had no idea she knew the word and the way she says it—drags out the first syllable and puts a bit more emphasis on the second syllable than the first—and the very fact that she was saying it filled me with such joy and almost made me cry. I asked her, "Are you happy, Bridget?" and she turned her little face toward mine and said it again. She fell asleep shortly afterward. (Of course, I didn't; I was freezing by then and probably only slept half an hour to an hour between that time and 6:00 am when Al got up, waiting for him to bring me a blanket—I didn't want to move and wake her up again; those air mattresses can be noisy and rise/sink when someone gets on/off them.)
Bridget said happy again twice yesterday, both times when I was holding her and she was tired and cuddling with me. And last night, also while she was cuddling in with me, she turned to me, looked at me, and said, "I love." How could anyone
not be in love with this little girl when she says/does things like that? I love her so, so much and am so blessed and thankful that I get to be a mom.
Of course, there are things that I could go without, but the good far outweighs the bad. I love that she says "happy" and "I love" right now, but her favorite word is actually "no." The fact that she answers
every question with "no" tells me that she doesn't quite know what it means. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that she doesn't know what "yes" means yet (or how to say it, although she can nod her head and sometimes does while she's saying no). Because she definitely says no when a) we're doing something she doesn't want us to do, b) the dog(s—Mya or Presley, my sister's dog) is doing something she doesn't think the dog should do (oh, boy, picking up yelling at the dog already...), or c) when she's doing something she knows she's not supposed to do and I say "Bridget" in a certain way.
I'm also in the what size clothing and shoes, if any, to buy dilemma. Right now Bridget's wearing anywhere from 24 months to 3T size clothing. The waists on the pants/jeans are often too tight at 24 months/2T (or just barely fitting), but the length just started fitting her correctly (sometimes 2T and always 3T are way too long). I've bought a few skort-thingies (those skirts with panties/shorts underneath, whatever they're calling them now) and she has lots of dresses, and I'm just praying that the weather will get (stay) warm enough soon that I won't have to deal with that until fall. She's suddenly outgrown her size 4 shoes, but size 5 is still a bit too big; there's one pair of jelly sandals that works (never thought I'd be dressing my kid in jelly sandals!), but her velcro sandals/tennis shoes are too big/easy for her to get on and off by herself. She's also got very thick feet and many of the shoes don't fit her. I need barefoot weather!
I'm sure there's plenty that I've missed—like the fact that she sings and dances all the time now (but she's been doing it for a while—bad mommy doesn't do very good at recording those things) and tried to fix her hair when she was looking in the mirror the other day—but I've gone on for way too long, probably lost all four of my readers by now, and need to get to laundry/work. Til next time.
