Abby has been really clingy lately. So much so, that I had to stop writing in the dining room and move into the bedroom to write on my “bog.”
Daycare drop offs have become increasingly difficult, too. She’s excited to go daycare. She’s excited to see her friends. She’s excited to see her teachers. She’s less excited to see me leave. Kisses, hugs, and assurances that I will come pick her up have to be repeated multiple times before I can leave. Most of the time, she still wails. Occasionally, she’s fine. She wants to know where I’m at all times.
This weekend she’s going to her other grandmother’s house. I’ll either be met halfway, or I’ll be driving all the way out there and dropping her off. But the drop off is going to suck big time. At least until I’m out of sight, and then she will be fine. Like nothing is wrong. If I call and she hears my voice, or someone says mentions me, all hell breaks loose.
In other, less realistic news: Did you know that the weather is affected by my best friend’s eating habits? We discovered this today. Apparently, because Luvey has eaten, it’s gotten colder outside her home.
This was discovered when I called her to help with my creative constipation. We also discovered that the baby say “bog” as opposed to “blog”, and it may be the cutest thing ever. Of course, we say that every time she blinks or breathes or looks at us. We may be a little biased.
But now you know who to blame the weather on when it doesn’t go your way.