That Sucked

Violet sucks her thumb. I'm both elated and horribly distraught about this. On one hand, I'm thrilled, thrilled that she can do this thing, self-soothing, that I'd only until this point, dreamed of. On the other, I begin to question why she has learned to do it, and the other two did not. Perhaps because I was home with them and they didn't need to? Oh there's that parental doubt creeping in again...

But it is sort of cute. And while Ian worries about her being one of those kids, I worry so much less about that, and more about the emotional distress that might have driven her to do it. Reading too much into simple thumb-sucking? Maybe.

But anyway.

Add this to the list of things to never take a two-year-old and three (gasp! Almost four) month old to: College Graduation.

My brother graduated from college last week. And I'm so happy for him, I wouldn't have missed it for the world. Even if not missing it means watching from a TV screen out in the lobby, and popping in the door to see him walk across the stage when his name was called. But it was pretty miserable for Ian and me. Between there being nowhere to nurse Violet discreetly and Will sitting still for all of two minutes during the ceremony, it was two hours of kid chasing hell, not something I'd do for just anyone.

But to see my brother so happy and my mom so proud, I can say, in hindsight at least, that it was worth it. And at least Will was cute as he was running away.

Baby Master

Did I forget to mention that Violet rolled over? She did. Totally unexpectedly, I put her on her tummy on the floor, and the next thing I knew, she flipped herself right over onto her back. Wow!
She's also taking the bottle grudgingly. I went back to work out of the house this week, which means she doesn't have much of a choice. It's sort of sad, but at the same time, I'm so, so glad that Ian is the one handling it. He is, the Baby Master.

I came home after a long day in Seattle (my second day), made even longer by my boss forcing me to go to dinner to debrief on the day, and aside from Ian being completely furious at me for not calling, the kids were all tucked into their beds and sound asleep (Violet too!). I hate to think of the state I would have been in, had roles been reversed (picture all three kids in various stages of breakdowns, screaming, tears, and me in the kitchen crouched behind the baby gate with a bottle, and I'm not talking about one with milk).

But that's me. Me, who drives halfway to Bellevue and realizes that I forgot my driving directions back on my desk in Olympia. Me, who leaves my ATM card in the machine and drives off. Oh and that's just one day.

Yep. That's me.

Meanwhile Ian is stuck at home with no car, a screaming two-year-old, and stubborn hungry baby that won't drink a bottle.

I'm pretty sure that qualifies him for sainthood.