18 April 2012
Some days the only way for me to shower is to put Ollie in his room and ask Bleu to "babysit" him for five minutes. Even though the bathroom is straight down the hall and I can/do literally watch and wave to him while I wash my hair, he will cry if he's alone. So I either bring him in the shower with me or ask big sister if she would kindly read to him while he waits for me.
Bleu loves the responsibility but promptly reminds me that she's only three and can't read yet. I tell her that it doesn't matter. She can teach Ollie his colors/numbers/animals just the same. When she engages him with a good book he doesn't cry for me. The other day when I lifted him over the second gate -- to the big mattress on the floor -- he giggled, quick-crawled up to the pillow and immediately tucked himself in. I think he looks forward to book time with Bleu now, and I actually got to shave my legs!
P.S. What's with all the gates, you ask? Well, the nursery in our 1867 house is conveniently located right at the top of our third floor staircase. It's a tall wooden flight with old spindle railings and no stable place to install a safety gate. The potential for an accident keeps me up at night, so we have a foot pedal gate in Ollie's bedroom doorway and another soft divider separating the main part of his room from the cozy sleeping quarters. Because our 17 month old hasn't been in a crib in forever.