Liking It

Now that we have sort of reached an understanding with the new trial diet, we are finding out a lot of new things. My HC is finding out the most. Now that Erin is her beautiful healthy best, things are changing. As is normal, when most kids are babies they want Mommy, or whoever their primary caregiver happens to be (I have utmost respect for you no matter your age or gender; we are all after the same thing here). And when most kids don't feel good, they want the same person. In our house, it's me. Continuously.
Ian is getting to the point where he doesn't care who changes the sheets when he wets the bed or gets him another glass of milk. But Mommy is still the kisser of boo boos (for another couple of months, anyway). Erin is discovering this fact as well. Last night, it went like this.
I'm not sure if it's the normal course of things or not, since she's been sick for so long, but Erin tends to get up at least once a night because she is thirsty. She's always thirsty; she's part camel. And she takes after me. I get up a couple of times a night to get a drink or visit the bathroom and check on the kids. Usually my HC is awake and doing his after work wind-down and computer fix (Mobster, anyone?), so there's the added bonus of saying hi and how long have you been doing Mobster and come to bed already. (!!) Last night I was tired. My little chickie is up with the sun, which comes out 6-oh-something here. Last night she got up like usual. She fussed half-heartedly for a bit. Then started calling. "Maaaaaaaaaaa-meeeeeeeeeeee!!" After a while of no corresponding footsteps signalling my arrival, she tried something new and hit paydirt.
"Daaaaaaaaaaa-deeeeeeeee!" Daddy was on the computer and probably pounding keys loud enough to broadcast his presence. It didn't take many repetitions to have him bounding into her room to save the day (uh, night). Well, Daddy = playtime. She instantly went into a monologue. He got her some milk and walked with her for a bit. She wanted to talk and play and see what everyone was doing. Eventually, she got dumped into bed with me. She was cold!! Last night was chilly, somewhere in the low 50s and damp. I dozed off and on with her laying next to me, still talking to Daddy, who we could see from the bed, tapping away again at the computer. (as a side note, did he really thing she'd just go to sleep?)
After a while, I got tired of being kicked with little toes, warmer now, and got up to put things right. She got some more milk and then we changed a diaper. I turned her heater up and straightened her pillow and blanket and found Elmo. I walked with her for about 2 seconds and poof! Back in dreamland, back under the covers. Still, Daddy is mystified. But not intrigued enough to log off...
Erin was still sleeping today when it was time to get Ian from school, so I left Daddy home to monitor and went to get Ian. When I got home, they'd practically formed their own secret club, with handshakes and everything. Daddy had put shoes on her and taken her to play on the carport (which Mommy doesn't do; Mommy prefers the security of the fence.). They had colored pretty pictures with the sidewalk chalk. They had played on the playground and Daddy had pushed Erin on the swings just the way she likes it (this is one of the few things that Mommy cannot do; Daddy rubs it in, the oinker). They were happy to see me, but I have a sneaking suspicion it had more to do with the drinks I brought them from Sonic.
At suppertime, squealing, shrieks, giggles and wordy explanations heralded Daddy's stay at the table. At bedtime, she somehow managed to kick the wall, sing to herself and twiddle her thumbs until 10. She tried calling for Mommy and Daddy, but Mommy didn't go in until 10, when Castle was over.
I went in. The bed was mussed, the cup was empty and the diaper was full. I picked her up and went to get more milk. It was so predictable. Erin leaned out of my arms to peek around the corners. "Daddy? Daddy???" "
"Daddy's at work," I whispered.
"Shhh," she replied. "Daddy? Seeeep? Daddy?"
"No, Daddy's at work," I said again. "But Ian is sleeping."
The whisper was comical. "Daaaaaaa-deeeeee!"
I got her milk and she looked out the kitchen door, presumable for the cop car to be parked there. It wasn't. She looked disappointed. I guess she hadn't stayed awake long enough after all. Shucks!
She got her milk and a dry diaper and her bed all fixed. I walked a bit and she fell asleep. But that's okay. In a couple more hours, she has the chance to try again. And some things work every time.