It's been a while.

Life is moving along peacefully around here, and all is well.    Maia's new favorite thing to do these days is sing various songs, including "Doctor Worm," "Rock-a-bye Baby," and "You Are My Sunshine".  If Brian or I starts to sing any of the above tunes, she'll interrupt with a very insistent "Maia sing it!  Maia sing [insert song here]!"  She particularly enjoys singing in the car, and I just love the sound of her little voice coming from the backseat as I'm driving.  She has almost all the lyrics, but often will jump over a line or two.  For example, here's her version of "Rock-a-bye Baby":

Rock a bye, baby

On the tree top.

When the wind blows

The cradle will rock.

And down will come baby,

Cradle and all!

I've had a relatively busy week of meetings, classes and appointments in the evenings, and I'm busy right up until the morning of my departure for New York City on Saturday.  This is the first time that I'll be away from Maia for a night except for those evenings of doula work at the hospital.  It's a bittersweet feeling, to be sure.  I'm absolutely thrilled to have the opportunity to experience New York at this time of year, and I've been anticipating this time with my sisters for months.  But, of course, it will be emotionally challenging for me to be away from Maia for three and a half days.  The longest stretch of time that I'm away from Maia with any frequency is four hours or so, once or twice a week (well, of course, excluding night-time sleep); this upcoming separation is a big departure from that usual routine.  I'm sure I'll be just fine, and I'm certain that Maia will, too (she's with her Dada, after all).  But even thinking about this long without her makes me feel a bit lonesome for some of her smiles and snorgles and "I love you, Mama"s.  

I guess the point is this: Maia is just such a cool, funny, bright, interesting person to be around.  I imagine that most parents say this about their kids, so this isn't news.  But I also think I'm pretty fortunate to have these sorts of feelings during the so-called "Terrible Twos" window.  We've experienced the ups and downs of toddlerhood together, to be sure, but there's nothing terrible going on around here.  Maia has her meltdowns and tantrums, but she's so verbal that she's able to tell us she needs to "have a moment," she goes and has her moment (which usually involves some halfhearted crying), and then we're able to get ourselves back together and move on with our day.  I don't think she's experiencing the frustration of being unable to communicate her wants and desires the way some other two-year-olds might.  She certainly doesn't get everything she wants, but my perception of things is that she is almost always able to communicate her wants.  

We're able to use the infinitely useful tool of giving her the choice of "A or B," and we're usually able to come to a mutually-agreeable path through our difficult moments.  We're also beginning to use the strategy of giving her plenty of warning before departing or transitioning to something new, and the phrase "five more minutes" has meaning to her.  Of course, she doesn't understand the time element of this, but she does seem to understand that it means that something is going to change soon.

I'm reading a book right now called Becoming the Parent You Want to Be, and the title of the book alone helps me clarify my behavior as a parent now in the context of how I hope to be a parent five, ten, fifteen (etc.) years from now.  All of these strategies and techniques that I'm talking about here are a part of this thinking:  I want to have strong and definite limits and expectations as a parent, but I do not want to be a "because I said so" type of parent and ignore Maia's emotional reactions to the moments when my expectations intersect with her wants and needs.