I’ve discovered why some folks wait a little bit longer to have child number two. It’s because, a little after age two, child number one gets so self sufficient. It’s been pretty revolutionary around here, like, ‘Wow! I don’t have two babies anymore!’.
Ev goes to the bathroom by herself. She gets dressed. She gets in and out of her bed by herself. She grabs Jack’s pacifier for me. She runs to throw away a diaper. She shuts the door. She opens the door. She gets in her car seat and straps herself in (this is so wonderful). She chatters a mile a minute and lets me know what she would like to do for the day and eat. She opens the fridge in the morning and helps herself to breakfast. She climbs up on the cabinet and helps herself to snacks. And she’s pretty adorable.
But I’ll expand on the whole breakfast thing just in case you think everything’s perfect around here. So. Unfortunately, my little darling sleeper inner now often wakes at the crack of dawn. Sometimes she hears Wesley and they eat together but many times he’s gone too early and so down the stairs she comes. I always just hope she’ll get in bed with me and fall back to sleep (it’s happened about three times) but usually I just hear the fridge door creak open and then a yogurt is shoved in my face. ‘Moma. Can you open this?’.
And so I open it and roll over and try to doze back off. And then, eventually, Jack wakes up. So I get up, Evelyn very cheerfully remarks, ‘Did you woke up?’, and I head to the kitchen where I’m never sure what I’ll find.
One day in was seven sticks of butter unwrapped, lined up neatly in front of the fridge.
One day it was all the cherry tomatoes neatly lined up in the cabinet.
The next day they were all in the microwave.
One day it was three peeled bananas.
One day it was three yogurt containers.
One day it was oatmeal everywhere.
One day it was half of a watermelon with chunks missing and juice everywhere.
One day it was all the uncooked eggs in a bowl with all the boiled eggs.
One day it was a cracked egg in the grape bag.
Yes, I suppose I could just get up.
But where’s the adventure in that?