Getting Ready for Baby Sister

First the good news:

I don’t want to jinx anything, but I think we’re just about weaned. He hasn’t nursed in three days, anyway. He still asks–particularly at night and more than once last night since his dad was away and he had all that attendant insecurity–but he’s pretty easily distracted and surprisingly responsive to the idea that though he’ll always be my baby, he’s not a little baby anymore. Then I try to talk about some of the great things about being a little boy. That seems to do it. I’m not going to check it off the list until it’s been a week, but three days is pretty good.

We’re also doing well with bedtime and nap time, though he’s not yet interested in sleeping in his AWESOME BIG BOY BED. For the moment, his awesome big boy bed is an awesome cat bed. Wah wah.

He still uses his high chair, which we’ll need for Tallulah eventually, but we’ve probably got a while yet. Still, I’ve got it on my list.  We’re going to need to transition him to a booster seat at the table.

Now the “meh” news:

Yesterday I asked Henry if he wanted a baby doll to help him practice for his little sister.  (A few people had suggested it and I’d dismissed it at first–because he’s never shown a lick of interest in anything people-shaped–but yesterday at school he played with a doll for a bit during drop off, so I figured maybe we’d give it a shot.)

“Yes!”

“Do you want Mommy to order you one, or do you want to pick one out yourself?”

“Pick it out!”

Okay, so before dinner we stopped by a toy store.  Of course, as soon as we walked in he wanted to know, “Where da animals at?”

I told him he could go look at the animals after we picked out a Tallulah doll, so he grabbed the first doll he could reach and again demanded animals.  (The doll he grabbed was African-American.  I’m not sure if that was just happenstance or if it was because Sabrina, his best friend here, was adopted from Africa.  I’d like to think it was because of Sabrina but he didn’t seem terribly deliberate.)

I asked him if he was sure that was the doll he wanted.  He switched it with another (this one a blonde caucasian, but honestly he didn’t seem to be paying attention) and called for animals.  I’m fairly certain he switched the dolls in hopes of shutting me up and getting to the animals.  At that point it was clear this was a losing battle so we headed for the Schleich bins with the blonde doll in tow.

Honestly, I should have put the doll back.  He spent all of maybe two minutes picking it out and most of that was under duress.  He then spent ten minutes with the animals figurines and literally had to be carried away in tears.  (Can you tell I don’t like the doll?  I’m sure it doesn’t help that I think it’s kind of ugly.  And not in that so-ugly-it’s-cute way.  Just ugly-ugly.)

We did play pretend with doll Tallulah a bit this morning, but I really had to take the lead.  He was at his most engaged when she was opening imaginary presents (“Animals for Tuella!”) and when we put a “bambaid” on her leg.

It might catch on if we push it but I don’t have high hopes.  If I hadn’t taken the tag off, I’d probably return it.

–Mom

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