When we left for dinner that evening, Brooklynn was drawing wavy lines and small squiggles on her white board and telling everyone it was sea turtles swimming in the ocean.

Yesterday, she decided that she was a train like Thomas the Tank-Engine. She called herself Thomas and said we should too. When asked directly where Brooklynn was, she would point to herself and say, “Right here!” while looking at us with an expression that seemed to indicate she worried about our sanity. I mean, where else would she be when she’s right in front of us? Silly mommy and daddy.

But other than that, only Thomas would respond to any sort of requests.

She also likes when her stuffed animals carry objects, talk, and dance. Yesterday, I got kicked off a stool at her table to make room for teddy. Apparently it was his seat first.

We have confirmed imagination happening in our house. I suppose it’s only a matter of time before we have full-fledged tea parties and princess sightings².

You just say sure.

Of course, the day she could sleep in was also the day she woke up at 5:50 in the morning. So we said goodbye to Mommy, had some medicine, some crispys (Rice Krispies), and watched a couple rounds of Horton Hears a Who.

Along with being sick, Brooklynn has been pretty horrible in the mornings for the past three weeks. Over half of the days it feels like she spends most of the time crying because she doesn’t want to go to school or telling us she doesn’t want to get dressed, and no she doesn’t want to wear that. No, she doesn’t want to eat that right now, and no, we can’t put on a coat or shoes or cooperate in any way.

To be honest, it’s a crappy way to start a morning. I can’t wait until we’re trying to get two children ready each morning.

I mentioned that I stayed home with Brooklynn a couple days ago, and we spent some of our time on the couch watching movies.

After taking a mid-morning potty break, before we restarted the movie, she told me to lie down and she sat on my chest. She reached out her hand and gently touched the tip of my nose with her fingertips before quickly jerking her arm back to her chest.

“I got your nose, Daddy!”

Again, reaching her hand out to my face, “It’s ok, Daddy, I give it back. Now, you get mine.”

So we played, taking turn at getting each other’s noses and eyes, and ears and lips. As I gave her second ear back for a second time (because you can’t take just one ear and not the other), her eyes finally started to betray how tired she was really getting.

“Ok, all done.” She laid down nestling her head underneath my chin and curling her body up on my torso. We grabbed a blanket to cover up with and she reached a hand up and felt my face again.

“Daddy, you happy?” she asked me, raising her head to look at me from 6 inches away.

“Yes, Brooklynn, I’m happy. Are you happy too?”

“Yep.” She laid her head back down. “Let’s watch Horton now.”

This morning was a bad morning. I had to physically force a small screaming child into a car seat. So every time that I ask why myself doing this again seemed like a good idea, I also think of times like that morning, cuddling on the couch.

We get to do this again. That’s the focus. We’re looking forward to having you, Artoo.

I will also admit that I have not been the most patient of people at 6am in dealing with Brooklynn’s phases. This morning, as I searched for Brooklynn’s travel mug that we apparently left at school yesterday, Rhiannon was the one to go in and get her up. I went upstairs to find Rhiannon and Brooklynn playing a game where Ruffy (the puppy) and Rabbit, her two current favorite animals, where helping to take off her pajamas and get her dressed. And it worked. No tears, no crying. Well, nothing wrong until we got to the part where her travel mug was at school and she would have to wait until then to have her chocolate shake for the morning¹

It’s also times like this when I see Rhiannon making things a game succeeding where my attempt at direct logic has failed when I realize that I really don’t understand children. I will happily play blocks and dance around to music, and, when frustrated in the morning, I will also tell Brooklynn that her recent behavior has been unacceptable² and she needs to shape up.

The hardest thing I think that Brooklynn is facing right now is the fact that she wants to do everything herself³. She puts her own food in the microwave and closes it. She takes her own clothes off and puts them on herself. She can lift and carry that 10 pound bag of flour her own self, thank you very much.

If she gets hurt doing something, well, maybe she will allow us to give her a hug and make it better. And if she spills a little when she carries her bowl of soup across the kitchen to the table, then it’s ok for us to help clean up. Every day, she does a little more on her own. She’s going to be a big sister, after all. No time to act like a baby and let Mom and Dad do everything for her. Especially no at 6am when she’s still a little tired and crabby.

So, moving forward, I’m going to make the attempt to practice patience and stay positive, even in the face of utter and completely irrational thought and actions.

Because, really, who doesn’t want a stuffed puppy to help with putting our clothes on in the morning? I think everyone one would probably be in a better mood with a little bit more of that going on.