In search of serenity
Jul. 28th, 2008 08:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ailbheToday was hot. Twice it threatened to have a nice big thunderstorm and shake the temper tantrums out, but twice it merely splatted dry laundry with raindrops the size of marshmallows and then stop. Emer napped twice, too, and woke grumpy twice. Linnea was oookaaaayyyyy. Ish. Emer was miserable.
Her second nap ended this evening after dinner. She woke hot, sweaty, unhappy, and uncomfortable. She cried; I fed her. She cried; I held her. She arched and wriggled and went all floppy. She didn't want to be on my lap. She didn't want to be in my arms. She didn't want to be on the floor. She didn't want to be in the garden. She didn't want a new nappy. She didn't want. No.
Eventually I thought to offer her a walk in the buggy, which was also rejected, then suddenly accepted. So we went out.
And she directed me to the local playground, where all the equipment is too big for her, and she climbed up the slide and slid down it, and I lifted her onto all the highest things - higher than my head - and she danced up there for the sole purpose of terrifying me. Children are so sweet and thoughtful.
Emer and I played in the park. She climbed up the slide and slid down it, using her rubber-soled canvas shoes as brakes. We ran over to the cricket / basketball pitch and playing Running Really Hard With Our Arms. We had a brief go on the peculiar standing-up seesaw, but it's really too big for her.
It was wonderful. This is the kind of moment I had hundreds of with Linnea, but with Emer they are very rare. We had an evening's play in the park together. She loved it. I loved it. It was pleasant and undemanding and fun, and she was strong and brave and confident and adept.
I feel serene.
(And hot.)
Her second nap ended this evening after dinner. She woke hot, sweaty, unhappy, and uncomfortable. She cried; I fed her. She cried; I held her. She arched and wriggled and went all floppy. She didn't want to be on my lap. She didn't want to be in my arms. She didn't want to be on the floor. She didn't want to be in the garden. She didn't want a new nappy. She didn't want. No.
Eventually I thought to offer her a walk in the buggy, which was also rejected, then suddenly accepted. So we went out.
And she directed me to the local playground, where all the equipment is too big for her, and she climbed up the slide and slid down it, and I lifted her onto all the highest things - higher than my head - and she danced up there for the sole purpose of terrifying me. Children are so sweet and thoughtful.
Emer and I played in the park. She climbed up the slide and slid down it, using her rubber-soled canvas shoes as brakes. We ran over to the cricket / basketball pitch and playing Running Really Hard With Our Arms. We had a brief go on the peculiar standing-up seesaw, but it's really too big for her.
It was wonderful. This is the kind of moment I had hundreds of with Linnea, but with Emer they are very rare. We had an evening's play in the park together. She loved it. I loved it. It was pleasant and undemanding and fun, and she was strong and brave and confident and adept.
I feel serene.
(And hot.)
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(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-29 12:36 am (UTC)Also, your description of Emer dancing on a high place and freaking you out made me laugh and laugh.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-29 03:02 am (UTC)Recently I had one of those Dove chocolate morsels with inspirational phrases. The frame now has a "Be Fearless" foil leaf motif.