I Can't Hear Your Rules

Recently we had to have a family meeting because Jacob won't stay in his bed. Or his room. And when he comes out, he either plays (loudly) in the playroom or goes into Hannah's room. Hannah, for the record, is usually genuinely trying to sleep and does not appreciate these little friendly visits. After our meeting, Jacob confirmed that he understood he was to stay in his room and in his bed. The very next night we saw some improvement. He still came out of bed, but he did not go into Hannah's room. A work in progress...

Tonight, after swimming, and with both kids yawning, I was reasonably confident that bedtime would be a breeze. Jacob, of course, had to come out of bed within five minutes for his "I need to go the bathroom" routine. Then he had to come out again for his "I need to go pooh this time" schtick. Then, when I could clearly hear him in the playroom, he ran back to his bed and denied being out of it. The next time I heard the pitter-patter of his tiny feet, I went upstairs to find him opening Hannah's door to deliver a toy. Please note: I saw it happen. And here is what followed:

Me: Jacob, we've talked about how you need to stay in bed and how you are NOT to go into Hannah's room.

Jacob: I didn't.

Me: Please don't lie. You opened Hannah's door, didn't you?

Jacob: (wide-eyed with innocence) No, I didn't.

Me: (a tad exasperated) I saw you do it. You opened her door and put a toy inside. She is SLEEPING! Why can't you just stay in bed? You should have been asleep a long time ago! Why do you keep coming out when you know you are not supposed to?

Jacob: (in a very sad, quiet voice) I can't hear.

Me: You can't hear what?

Jacob: Your rules. (Looking truly dismayed.)

Me: You can't hear my rules!?!?!?!?

Jacob: (shaking his head sadly) Nope.

Another point for the three year-old...

Love You a Little Harder

At night, when I tuck you in, I hold you a little longer
I keep on kissing your cheeks, your hair, your hands, because
Right now, I love you a little harder

In the morning, when I brush your hair, I take a little longer
I want these kinds of moments to last forever, because
I have no way of knowing how many more there may be

When we read a story, play tea party, or share a snack
I can't stop staring at you
When you laugh, when you sing, even when you cry
I want to memorize the feeling
When I hold your hand...
I find it hard to let go

If I hug you a little tighter
If I cuddle with you a little longer
If I just want a little bit more
Of everything

It's because, right now,
I love you a little harder

Toddler No Longer

This blog originated with posts about trying to toilet train a daughter who wouldn't go near the toilet and who responded to the suggestion of underwear as one might respond to sampling toxic chemicals. It detailed escapades like chasing a half-naked child around the backyard while the neighboured looked on with amused interest. But that toddler is all grown up now. For starters, she's now five and a half (and about as tall as your average nine year-old). And then there's the fact that last night, while playing a game where she describes a shape and I have to guess what it is, she said this:

It has no sides and no vertices.

Vertices!?! "How the heck do you know what vertices are?" I asked.

Jacob quickly chastised me for swearing (heck) before Hannah patiently explained that vertices are corners. It's a bit disconcerting to hear your baby use the word vertices so casually.

What's next? Translating Latin texts?