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My first child Calvin, was a very difficult baby and toddler. I did not know this of course because I had no idea what to expect from a baby and a toddler! But when I compared notes with other moms and then when I had other children (which in itself was a miracle because Calvin really was a very difficult baby and toddler!) I discovered that yep – he was our trial by fire. He was hyperactive, energetic, loud, strong-willed, aggressive, clingy or too independent, depending on the situation.

When Sam was born, I was amazed at how easy it was to take care of him! Babies really did take naps without needing to nurse all the time! Toddlers could be expected to lay down and take naps every afternoon and they could be trained to be quiet and respectful in church and in public.

And that’s how it went then. Gabe was a super easy baby who was content to just “be” wherever he was placed as a baby. He was a jovial, loving toddler too. Noah was a little more high needs as far as needing more cuddling and snuggling, but overall a fairly easy baby as was Isadora.

But as if to put an exclamation point or a little POP in our family life, God gave us Rosie, and she makes Calvin seem like a piece of cake. For one thing, Rosie at 28 months is picking up language at an alarming rate. Alarming. She is picking up words and phrases with just one hearing. And while it is cute to hear her learn to say the sign of the cross in Latin as the kids and I are learning, it’s not as cute to hear the nice collection of cuss words she has picked up from playing on the front porch exposed to the “hood.” The frightening thing is she hears, understands and pretty much uses whatever she has learned in context. I’m not sure whether I should be proud or mortified with her superior language skills.

She has also learned to take all of her clothes off and does so several times a day. She can climb out of her crib regardless of where I place it and unfortunately she has also mastered door knobs. I’m going to have to get some of those door knob covers, something that I never had to do with the other kids.

She is definitely ready to start using the potty. She told me so yesterday although she also said “not yet” when I asked her if she wanted to use it. Instead she brought me the wipes and a diaper and announced “I pooped.” She hadn’t but she did soon thereafter. She’s definitely aware of what’s going on with her body and what she needs to do to take care of it!

This week she has brought me a catalog and started asking me, “what that, what that?”
When I told her she found another picture and asked me, “what that, what that?” She also started pointing at people and pictures of people and says “name, name, name, name!!” This game is lots of fun at home. Not so much at church or at the grocery store.

And speaking of church, she is a delight and a terror there. She loves getting dressed up for it and she loves flirting with the people there, but she hates sitting still for it and it is impossible for her to contain her strong voice when there is such a lovely echo available! I have spent more homilies toddler wrestling or walking with her outside than I remember with the other babies. She has her favorite statues that she loves to visit and there better be a flower nearby for her to decapitate and place in the flower vase, or she’ll go nuts. She also knows what “donuts in the church hall” means.

But what really gets me is her desire and preference to be with me all of the time. I literally have to sneak out of the house when she is not looking or I’ll have to bring her with me. I am more confined than ever to working only when she is asleep or if I have willing volunteers to keep her otherwise occupied. If she wakes up at night, she wants mommy and only mommy.

As aggravating, annoying, sweet and wonderful as it all is, I look at my 18-year-old son and remember, that this time is going to be very fleeting with my little girl. She won’t always prefer my company to all others and I will not always be where the sun rises and sets for her. Eighteen years of raising children and reaching my own middle years have taught me this. So when she cries “uh oh” and comes to kiss my hand, and call “hold me mama, hold me” I will do it gratefully… while I look for the paper towels and mop and go find whatever it is she spilled or otherwise destroyed.

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