Trauma

When I pick Marceline up from her preschool, I always bring a snack for her and Edith to eat on the way home. Which is a little ridiculous considering that we are a 6-minute car drive, at most, from her preschool. But it helps get Marceline into the car some days, as she wants to stay and play at the Nature Center as long as she can. Edith too.

So this week we had some granola bars to eat as snack. I just bring one and break it in half for the girls to split. Not quite half, Marceline needs a bigger piece because she is older you see. So like two-thirds to one third. Which means Edith just inhales her snack while Marceline takes slightly longer, mostly seconds longer really.

On Monday Edith devoured her piece while Marceline I notice Marceline just stared at hers. So I made high pitched voice that said “Hi Marceline,” as if it was coming from the granola bar. So said hi back. And really, at first it was cute like most of our imaginary play. Marceline talked back and forth with the granola bar, randomly answering the questions I had the granola bar ask…. about preschool, how she was doing and other such nonsense.

Then I had the granola bar ask what she was going to do with it. And she said eat it. I pretended (as the granola bar) to be shocked. Marceline tried to explain that granola bars were tasty and that she was hungry. And that you were supposed to eat granola bars. The granola bar insisted they could be friends and friends don’t eat friends. Marceline again tried explaining how you are supposed to eat granola bars.

She then said to me, “Dad I want the granola bar to stop talking so I can eat it.”

Yeah….. I think I may have traumatized her.

It probably didn’t help that after some quiet time Marceline started eating the granola bar and then I had it say “Where are my legs, I can’t feel my legs.” Marceline said she ate it, playfully this time. I had the granola bar ask if the legs were tasty and if she was going to eat the rest of it. She said yes to both.

2 daughters, 1 dad, 1 big playground

The title pretty much sums it up.

We spent 3 hours at a playground yesterday. And it was constantly walking from around one area to the other to check on my girls as they just spread out across the playground.

I didn’t even try to corral them because it wasn’t done. Just let them go and kept an eye on them.

Didn’t run

I wanted to run this morning… Well more accurate would be I wanted to want to run.

But at 5:45 Edith did her sit up and search for a cuddle partner. Sam was in the other room (not sure if it was Marceline’s coughing or my snoring that drove her out to get sleep in the other room), so Edith slothed over to me and put her head on my chest and eventually get back asleep.

Combine that with some mild nervousness over going to the oral surgeon this morning to get a tooth pulled (one of my molars root cracked and is infected) and I both didn’t fall back asleep but couldn’t get myself out of bed to run.

I did get out of bed by 6:30, have showered, had morning coffee, unloaded and loaded the dishwasher and started folding the never ending pile of laundry before stopping to write this post. So it wasn’t unproductive, just not everything I wanted for this morning.

But morning cuddles, always nice .

Dinner Time

Some evenings, making dinner.is the longest part of the day. We eat at 4:30 or 5, and despite a typical afternoon snack at 3, they girls act like they are starving to death while I’m cooking

Marceline will.come in and out of the kitchen asking if she can have this or that. “Dad I’m hungry!” is a perpetual refrain. My dad joke of “Hi hungry,” has been getting groans for months. Groans… From a 3 year old!

Dinner Time

Edith on the other hand, will stand in the kitchen pulling on my pants, screaming until food is ready. After a day of running around, cleaning the house and watching the girls it’s pretty much everything I don’t want to happen at that moment.

Which makes cooking dinner exactly the most tiring part of most days.

Tired

Edith seems to go back and forth between sleeping through the night and deciding to stay awake for multiple hours a night.

After about 20 minutes between Sam and I, coughing because she has night coughs, I got her up out of our bed and moved to the girls room with her. As soon as we laid down she said “milk,” so I got her some and she passed out sometime in the next hour.

I refuse to acknowledge time passing, but it was around 3am when it was finally quiet and I got back to sleep.