Thank you, Daddy

Good morning.

I'm sitting at the kitchen table with Sam's computer, and Lizzie in her high chair, eating "a bowl full of mush."  Recently she boycotted oatmeal, but because of her obsession with Goodnight Moon, oat bran cereal has become "a bowl full of mush" and she is stoked. 

I wrote a pretty good update of life yesterday; if you're interested hop over there.

Really, I wanted to jump on here today and record a sweet moment from last night, before I forgot it.  Since you're here today, I will inflict it upon you.

Lizzie's bedtime routine has become a long and sort of ridiculous process.  The steps are fairly streamlined: bath, the occasional attempt at the potty, diaper, pajamas, reading (sometimes accompanied by a small snack), brushing teeth, singing in the rocking chair, kisses, prayer, and being tucked in just-so with her baby doll and blanket.  Most nights I leave the room with her calmly and happily waving "bye" to me.

Last night, we skipped the bath and went straight to pajamas and reading books.  Lizzie had a stack of--no lie--about 15 books she had collected to be read.  I did my best to hide as many as I could when she wasn't looking, which still left about 10 of her favorites.

(She has given up on her mush, and is currently on the couch, reading "The Little Engine That Could" to the dog, who is also on the couch, even though she technically shouldn't be up there; but everyone is being good, so I will let sleeping dogs lie.  Lizzie is making sure Lady can see the "pishurs" and reading:  "Up! Up! Mountin.  ...  I tan! I tan!  Ah End.")

At any rate, I was settled on the couch with our stack of books, and Lizzie decided she needed more books.  She's faster than I am these days, so off she went to her bookshelf and grabbed 3 Barney books and 2 Karen Katz lift-the-flap books.  Both Sam and I protested and told her "no more books" and of course with it being after 9 PM, Liz fell into a meltdown.  "Barney!  Barney!  Peeeeaase?!"  Tears, collapsing on the floor, mournful arguments, the whole bit. 

We had to make a quick decision:  Should we force her to put the books back, when she's this tired and already mostly too far gone to reason with?  Or should we work out a compromise?  I suggested from my cozy place on the couch that we let her take one Barney book, put the others back, and I put away another handful of books I didn't want to read.  We were down to about 7, plus Barney.

Sam gave her one of the Barney books.  Lizzie's face lit up.  She ran to him, took the book, and then shimmied up to the couch with her Barney book and cup of water.  Then, without any prompting, she looked up at Sam, eyes full of relief and gratitude, and with her sippy straw in her mouth said, "Dint due, Daddy."

We were undone.  We never taught her spontaneous thanks.  We love this sweet little girl.  

I'm linking up with the Home Sanctuary Company Girls this morning.