Saturday night, our 19-month-old friend Sara came to spend the night with us while her parents celebrated their anniversary. We made a quick trip to the grocery to get pepperoni for our pizza and a few other items, and Sara did very well. She was constantly asking, "What's zat?" Patrick, ever the teacher with infinite patience, let her touch things and answered her questions. I felt like we were pushing a ticking time bomb through Kroger. She very well-behaved, but I knew that the terrible almost-twos could erupt at any moment. I knew I didn't want to be one of those people that everyone in the store stares at when her kid is crying.
We went back home and fixed pizza. Sara ate two pieces, plus a ton of watermelon, and was still wanting "mo." We gave her a bath, which wasn't a complete success because she wouldn't let us wash her hair. We also taught her a new word: Tivo. ;-)
I put her to bed, and of course, she started crying. After about 10 minutes, Patrick couldn't take it anymore. He rocked her for about two minutes, and she was out for the night. She slept until 6:30 the next morning. Patrick is the baby whisperer.
We tag teamed the next morning. I fixed her first bowl of Cherrios while he got ready, and Patrick fixed her another bowl and dressed her while I got ready. We actually got to church on time Sunday, but of course we started getting ready an hour earlier. I do not understand how single parents do it.
There was a tearful goodbye when we dropped her off at Sunday School. I have always been on the other side of that situation, so this experience was new. It was hard to leave her, but I knew she would get distracted and be fine in a few minutes. Her Sunday School teacher said that she was fine in about 15 seconds.
We had fun and I think she did too. Her parents said that she was asleep moments after getting in the car to go home. It makes me wish that Reganne lived closer to us!
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