Maj is yelling at me from the other room . . . she wants to know if there are any more comments on the interview she did for yesterday’s post.
“No, babe. I think everyone who is going to comment has commented.”
“What? Are you kidding me?”
“No, I post something new every day. The people who were going to read yesterday’s post have read it. And if they were planning on commenting, they have already done it. They are done with that post.”
She walks into the room all loud, “That’s insane! What do you mean, they are done with it? They just throw it in the trash?”
“Well, I don’t think most people bother to print the blog out, babe. They just read it on the computer.”
“Let me get this straight. You write every day, but nobody saves it or prints it out? They’re just done with it?”
“Yeah, that’s sort of how it works.”
“That is the dumbest sort of writing I have ever heard of. Are you serious? Why would you want to keep doing that?”
Ummmmm.
She looks over my shoulder, “So what are you doing now?”
“Writing my next post.”
Her voice rises, “You’re going to bury my words? Are you crazy? Leave mine up for a few days so that everyone can see it.”
“That’s not how it works, babe.”
“You didn’t tell me that! I didn’t know it was only going to be there for one day!”
“Maj, it will still be there. It just won’t be the first thing on the page when people visit.”
“Hmmmmph. Tell the people reading today to go back and read yesterday’s post again. Things are worth reading more than once, tell them.”
Snort.
“And why do you keep writing snort? You are not actually snorting. That would be disgusting.”
Snort.
“Stop that!”
“Go do something else, Maj. I need some time to think.”
“Fine. Tell the people that I will be in the other room reading a book that I have already read, and that I expect it to be just as good the second time.”
Snort!
There is quiet for a moment. I sit in the quiet for a moment.
I never read books twice.
In case you were wondering.
Maj is getting to be such a big girl.
I remember the months before Kallan was born? Maj had just turned two. I have mentioned before that Maj was late to talk, so you will have to imagine a silent two year old Maj.
I know . . . it’s difficult.
With just a few short months until the arrival of her sister? Maj was still sleeping in a crib. Mark and I wanted to transition her to a big-girl bed before the new baby arrived. So we set the big-girl bed up in Maj’s room. Maj’s crib was on the wall to the right as you walked into her room, and we set up the big bed on the wall adjacent, underneath the window.
We left both beds in her room for about a week. Maj continued sleeping in her crib . . . but during the day she played in the big-girl bed, rehearsed how she would lie in it, and practiced putting put her various dolls to bed in it. I spent a lot of time talking with Maj about how the new baby was coming, and about how she was getting to be such a big girl, and how a big girl got to sleep in a big bed.
Even then? Even without words? Maj was the sort of girl who needed time to think about changes.
After about a week, Mark and I had Maj help us dismantle the crib and put it up in her sister’s room. Maj helped us carry things and reassemble the bed. Seriously? She was the most grown-up wordless two year old in the history of the world.
And then it came time for bed that night. Maj’s first night in her big-girl bed. We did the whole bedtime routine (there were a lot of extremely specific requirements to Maj’s bedtime routine), and then I tucked her into bed. She stared up at me with her huge huge eyes and smiled at me as I turned out the light and shut the door.
Maj always went to sleep very very quickly and quietly at that age, but still? I was surprised to hear no noises from her room. It was a big change, and Maj did not generally like big changes.
I went to check on her before I went to bed a few hours later, happy that things had gone so smoothly.
I quietly opened the door to her room, and the sight that greeted me? It just clenched up my heart in that way a mom’s heart can clench sometimes. Clenched with pain and love and guilt and . . . mostly love.
Because Maj? She wasn’t sleeping in her new bed beneath the window. She had taken her pillow and her blanket and her favorite stuffed animal and arranged them on the floor. Maj was curled up small and sleeping exactly where she always slept. Facing into the room from where she always faced. Her back pushed up against the wall. Sleeping as though she was in her crib.
But with no crib, nothing beneath her but the floor.
The memory of it clenches my heart even now.
I scooped her up and placed her into the bed, tears streaming down my face.
And in the morning? As Maj was getting dressed and I was congratulating her on being such a big girl? I asked if maybe . . . perhaps . . . the big-girl bed might work better over on this shorter wall . . . I tapped with my hand . . . this one here . . . where her crib had been.
She bounced and shrieked with glee.
And together? Even before breakfast? Maj and I pushed her big-girl bed from beneath the window to the wall where it belonged.
And the crib waited in the next room for Kallan’s arrival.
See now? Maj is right.
This one is a story worth reading again.
At least for me.
Aww that’s a great story. What a change of pace from “Like Diamonds”!!!
Babies grow so fast… (sigh)
Thanks for sharing!
To Maj: sorry I did not comment on your post yesterday. I did read it and I look forward to your next contribution.
I like to change things up.
Maj has been in my mind, because she was sick all last week.
So nice to have her feeling better.
That was such a great story. I so understand how the little ones like things “the way they know them”. She sounds like a sweetheart.
And tell her that I read her interview and totally enjoyed it yesterday. It made me snort :)
Eleven year old Maj?
Still likes things the way she knows them.
That’s just how she is.
By the way, I vote for the goat :)
YAY!
You’re making me feel a little bit weepy thinking of all of the sweet memories I have of night time tuck ins with my daughter, who reminds me so much of Maj. But the only time she’s chosen to sleep on the floor, I hate to admit, was when we were in a hotel and sleeping with me was a fate worse than death. If she couldn’t sleep with her Grammie, there was no way she would submit to being with Momma. On the floor she went. And each time I tried to scoop her snoring self up. She immediately woke to scream for Grammie. Sigh. I just can’t compete.
Awwwwww . . .
Your story? Is sweet and heart-wrenching as well.
It is hard to lose out to Grandma.
I have been there.
aww that’s a cute story from when she was little…and i did go back and read the other post to a friend, we just didn’t comment
Snort!
Not everyone comments. I know that.
Maj, however? Is impatient with you non-commenters.
She makes me laugh.
lmao…in my defense i did comment originally on it, just not again after showing my friend
Hee hee!
My heart just cracked in half. The image of Maj, snuggled up in her old spot, seeking the comfort of familiarity has me holding back tears.
Moving Katie into her big-girl bed was so difficult for me. Craig didn’t help matters by announcing a series of “lasts” leading up to the move. (He’s as much of a sap as I am.)
“This is the last time we’ll put her to bed in her crib…this is the last time that we’ll greet her in the morning in her crib” … and so on. Every time the tears dried, I would just start grieving all over again.
And when we tucked her into that big girl bed, my heart was indeed clenched…
Perhaps it’s me who doesn’t like change. At all.
Such a lovely post, Kris.
You are truly so in tune with your girls…your sensitivity and compassion speak volumes to the kind of mother that you are. The girls are blessed.
Your story of Katie and her big-girl bed is (as you know) what made me think back and remember another little girl and her big-girl bed.
Thank you for making me remember.
And just generally . . . Thank you.
This post is for Maj.
Well, it’s in response to your response of the comment I left on your last post. Maj’s post. Got it?
You had said that Mark should not be allowed to trim, and he had wanted to trim the dog? Well, I got the giggles, because I did just that to our yorkie. Except I couldn’t find my grooming scissors, so my tool of choice? Kitchen shears. Seriously. He is HACKED.
I should not be allowed to trim either.
I guess this post is a little more for Mark and a little less for Maj. Which is weird since I don’t know either of them. Or you I suppose. Perhaps I should stop by for dinner…
Is it weird for me to invite myself? Or weirder if I actually travelled internationally to join you? I totally would if you’d be willing to babysit my kids ;o)
Do you have a picture of the hacked dog you could email me?
I would LOVE to see that!
And I love that you want to come over for dinner and have me babysit your children!
Happy sighs of connectedness.
Thank you.
Maj’s words? Not discarded, but buried like treasure for new visitors to find as they dig through your archives. I do read stories twice and I’m just waiting for more time to pass so I can go back and find again the gems you’ve left scattered for us to enjoy.
(And all the sappy word spewage? I’m again reminded why I shouldn’t comment after a couple glasses of wine)
I adore your sappy word spewage!
Scattered gems . . . that is just a lovely sentiment.
Thank you!
this made me want to cry. sometimes I think change is just as hard on us as it is on them.
and tell maj I thoroughly enjoyed her post & will read it again.
I know, right?
And especially because Maj has such a hard time with change?
It makes all of our big changes very momentous as I try to prepare her way.
Wordless toddler Maj curled up against the wall? That memory? Still brings me to tears.
what a great story. MB’s move to her bed was really uneventful, no memory maker or tear jerker. We moved houses so the crib didn’t move to the new house. She didn’t skip a beat just went right to bed in the big bed…now I am not complaining…but what a sweet memory you have of the switch.
My younger daughter went right from crib to big-girl bed with no fuss at all.
One day she was in a crib and the next day she was in a big-girl bed. No big deal.
The only person who felt emotional about that transition?
Was me.
Aww I love it! And it is definitely worth reading again :)
Thanks.
As Maj’s mom? I love stories that remind me that she has always been so very . . . Maj-ish.
Worth it for me too! I vote for Teddy Bear Dog! I’m a stalker — went back and read to the beginning. So sad — I have two daughters of my own that I neglected while I did so. Totally worth it! I was actually pissed that you took so long to post today — I’m in MN, you know, CST. Could you maybe work on the post-in-the-morning thing? Love your blog!
Dear bossy one,
I try to post before lunch. However, my family sometimes interrupts my schedule. Especially on the weekends.
So you? Will just have to deal.
Love you!
And love that you were impatient. I will try to do better.
Hear that, family? You need to give me some peace and quiet around here!
Dana needs me!
OMG that was an amazing story! I was reading it with tears in my eyes. My son is 2 1/2 now. I just… wow I don’t even know what to say. Wow.
It was a big moment, that transition from baby to big girl.
For Maj.
And for me.
Sigh.
Oh my goodness! This made my MamaHeart happy and made me turn into a sobby snot factory thinking about how fast babies grow up and about how fast my own baby is growing up. Happy tears of mommy love were sent streaming down my face as I read this. Truly amazing.
The juxtaposition of bossy eleven year old Maj in the next room against my memories of a younger toddler daughter?
Made me weepy as well.
Thank you.
Damn you woman!! With you making me get these big wet things coming from eyes and running down my cheek. Thanks alot!
PS I love you for it!
Thank you for the love.
Sometimes being a mom? Brings tears.
So happy I was able to share that feeling.
Much love.