G-pa invited Kate to see Santa at AB over the weekend. (It became obvious that this was either (a) not planned for little kids or (b) not planned by anyone with a clue as it STARTED at 1:00… hello? nap time anyone?)
Anyway, in true AB style, everything was done-up in-style. Huge tree, poinsettias everywhere and the dalmatians all around the tree. Upstairs to the festivities. A magician, balloon-animal lady, cookies, popcorn, music, nothing could equal the draw of those damn puppies on the kid!
After the 10th dash to the door to go see the puppies – and doing the way-passed-the-nap time stumble/rumble to the door, we had to jet. Screw seeing Santa, it was time to see the puppies one last time and go nap.
This day has come at least 3 months early. Kate has figured out how to get out of her crib.
She wasn’t ready to get up when I first checked on her at 7:00. By 7:10, she was giving us a shout. Nothing urgent, nothing crazed, just the “hey, I’m here and ready to get up/out/on with the day” shout. By the time I rounded the corner to her room I saw her head in a place where it clearly could not have been had she still been within the confines of her bed. I opened the door to find her perched on the outside of her crib, holding on and just inches from the ground. She had, it seemed, reached an impasse. She clearly couldn’t get back in, but she didn’t know just how far it was(n’t) to the ground.
“Help, please,” she said.
“Mike. Here. Now.” And he came to see the spectacle. All we could do was laugh and wonder at our little monkey.
Time for the toddler rail. Damn.