She's Fine

I was talking to my sister the other day about this little season of life we are in with Ellie. This stage is a lot of fun. She is funny and smart and surprising and is learning everything so quickly. She soaks things up like a sponge. She's learning about social interactions and her version of them is pretty hilarious. Two teenage girls were near us in the park yesterday, so Ellie walked up to them and said "Hi! This is Ellie! This my Moxie, my Daddy, my Mommy, and THIS IS ELLIE! HI!" 

I wish she wasn't so shy.

Anyways, I also shared with my sister that there is an element of this stage of life that is a little bit exhausting. And when I say "a little bit" I mean "I've thought about seeking out the services of a child psychologist" or "Maybe I should also seek out the services of an adult psychologist." 

Here's what it is: THE GIRL IS STUCK ON ME. LIKE WHITE ON RICE, Y'ALL.

Mommy, come sit with me.

Mommy, come snuggle me.

No, Mommy, sit down. 

Sit right there.

Where are you going, Mommy?

Y'all. I walk to the pantry and she walks there too. I go to hang up a shirt in the closet and she accompanies me for that little adventure. I need to pee and she has to come in there with me and "help" and applaud for me when I finish. It's all just a lot of togetherness.

She isn't playing well by herself right now. She won't even watch a show by herself. I set out toys for her, she wants me to be right there with her. It's not that she necessarily wants me to join her in playing (most of the time she'd rather I keep my hands in my lap) but she just wants me in her presence, giving her my full and undivided attention. Sometimes we will sit together at the kitchen table and color. I have my coloring book, she has hers, we don't speak or interact as we color for 20 minutes, but heaven forbid if I decide to stand up to switch the clothes from the washer to the dryer. HEAVEN FORBID.

And don't you dare think that she's okay with me folding clothes while we watch a movie together. Oh, no ma'am. She would like for me to not fold clothes during movie watching time. Full attention must be on snuggling and Curious George. 

Last week, Jen Hatmaker wrote an amazing piece for the Today Show about how we are perhaps putting too much weight on the preciousness of parenting and are unintentionally raising kids that can't do anything for themselves. While I understand that Ellie is not yet three years old and still needs my love and attention more than the average 4th grader, I also realize that I may be giving her too much credit as far as what her needs are, if you know what I mean. 

I have seriously thought to myself "Oh, she needs me right now. Clearly she's craving some Mommy time."

But the thing is, y'all, she has my full and undivided attention every minute of the day. It's not like she's begging for me to pull myself away from my computer screen or a book or my phone. It's me and her. All day. Every day. 

I am with her 100% of her waking hours. I can take 10% of that to get my stuff done.

I had to tell myself the other day that it is okay for me to peel her off of me and firmly tell her to go. play.

GO. PLAY.

GO.

NOW.

I mean seriously, I'm sending her to play with Duplo blocks.

She will be okay.

She will not be emotionally scarred if she sees me taking care of my household and folding clothes. 

I'm sending her to the other side of the room, not to an orphanage.  

YOU CAN COLOR WITHOUT ME IN THE CHAIR NEXT TO YOU. 

For the love.

There's a munchkin hollering for me in this very moment, as I type this. I just hollered back and asked her what she needs.

She says she needs a really big hug.