You're cramping my style!

The journey to nursery is often telling....what mood is she in today?

It's three months now since Grace moved out of the baby-room at nursery and it's still something that looms over me every time I drop her off... what will today be like? Clinging to my leg, reaching her arms up for me are common, tears are getting less frequent (thankfully), and fortunately the full on tantrum is rare. There used to be none of this when she was a Pixie in the baby-room.

The other thing there used to be little of, was her pointing to the door telling me to go. Her face tells me she's fine. I'm not in a rush to go as our timing was spot on this morning, I have time to chat to another Mum about children's parties. Grace points to the door again, nodding for me to shift it.

I'm clearly cramping her style.

Wallflower

wall·flow·er/ˈwôlˌflouər/

Noun:

A southern European plant (Cheiranthus cheiri) of the cabbage family, with fragrant yellow, orange-red, dark red, or brown flowers,... A person who has no one to dance with or who feels shy, awkward, or excluded at a party

Grace is a wallflower (feeling shy, not being of the cabbage family).

Twice this last week Grace has been in a social environment, and chosen to sit on my lap cuddling the whole time instead. Two hours at a birthday party, and two hours at play group. I can understand the party as it was a huge gathering at a venue she hasn't been to before - overwhelming by anyones standards. Play group is a little different. Us village mums go along every Monday morning for a cuppa and a catch up and it's always been a bit of a struggle to encourage Grace to play on her own.

She'll pull my finger, push my bottom, yank on my arm, anything to get me up to go to play with her... anything other than play on her own and give me five minutes peace with my friends. She's done this for a while, wants to be with me or her Daddy all the time, even at home in the garden she wants us with her doing whatever she wants to do all the time. The minute you step away she protests and clings to a limb. It's not that I want to abandon her, far from it.

It's an odd one. If she's at home, she'll play on her own no problem - she'll amuse herself for up to 45 minutes while I cook a meal or do some housework. It's just if she knows I am 'just there' she wants my attention. Back to play group and the birthday party - I've never encountered her not wanting to even get off my lap. I almost missed her tugging at my jumper to get up and play. Two hours solid both days she sat quietly, content, watching the other children playing. I aksed her several times if she wanted to go and play, and she'd always say no.

She was so invisible I felt like we were on a parallel plane, watching the party from the outside; we might as well not have been there.

I almost felt guilty taking a party bag and cake. Almost.

Should I be worried? Me and Matt the Husband aren't the most social of creatures.

Or is it just a phase she's going through?

All just another day being a Mum, I guess.

Coffee love

On a wet and windy Wednesday I wake to the sound of a toddler coughing. Sounds very chesty. She's ok, just a bit subdued so I prep her with Calpol and Tixylix and pack her off to nursery with not one but three Mr Rabbit's and a dummy permafixed to her chops. Comfort in soft-toys.

She's clingy when I drop her off. The first time since moving up into the Imps Room that we've had no tears and I wonder if today she just doesn't have the energy? I know the feeling. I wave goodbye, she ignores me sulking, and I leave feeling decidedly unloved. It's me with the separation anxiety today.

I've had a bad back these last few days so I've not been able to pick Grace up for a cuddle or give her much attention as just moving has been so uncomfortable. I'm missing my baby girl. I'm going to treat myself to a soothing cup of coffee. Like a big hug.

Once I was a Pixie...

"Once upon a time I was a Pixie. For 12 months I was safe in the knowledge I was a Pixie. I am a Pixie no more."

Grace has moved up class in nursery to the toddler room or 'Imps and Sprites' as they call it. Cute. But not smooth.

Grace is resenting the move somewhat having got very comfy in the room at the end with her pals Sandy, Doromey and Lydia, and we're experiencing a bit of drama on a morning when we drop her off. By the time I phone at half eight, she's settled in fine and eaten her breakfast but for that nanosecond when I leave her it does rather tug at the old battle-hardened heart strings. Awwww.

She'll be fine.

I just wish she wouldn't cling to my leg for dear life.