Notches in the Big-Girl Belt

After a whole month has passed since 31 for 21, I still feel that little twinge of guilt at missing a day or two of blogging.  My brain tells me it's downright silly to expect to be able to think of stuff to write (that may or may not be remotely interesting to a reader) every day, but my eyes see the repeated visits from some loyal readers popping on and popping off, periodically, throughout the day, and my heart feels that magnetic urge drawing me towards my keyboard, wanting to unload something, (anything!).  And sometimes there's just...nothing.

But there's never truly nothing when it comes to Samantha.  There's always something.  Even those little things, so minor to most people, that mean so much to us, that cause such a stir of excitement that she's taking next steps in her development, in some way.

We can often be guilty of not pushing for certain aspects of her development, like we know she is perfectly capable of drinking from open cups, but we still use straw cups for the most part.  It's easier, it's neater and less messy, and it makes her drink more fluids, more quickly, something bred from years of watching her suffer through bouts of constipation.  No parent wants to see their child go through difficulties, so it's much easier to smooth the path for them, in any way possible.  (C'mon, you've all been there...)

Two things changed this past weekend. 

First, I finally decided to remove the bedrail from her twin bed.  "Don't fall out of bed tonight, okay?" I said while tucking her in on Sunday night.  "I won't," she replied, sounding just a little bit exasperated.  I mean, sheesh, she's five!  And a half!  And you know what?  She didn't fall out of bed.  Nor did she the next night.  And I just checked on her a minute ago, more than an hour after she went to bed, and she's lying just about as close to the wall as she can, at the farthest point from the edge.  For a kid who always slept right up against the rail, she's showing that she knows her boundaries, and can sleep safely.  This actually opens up a whole lot of future travel possibilities.  We're always so paranoid about sleeping anywhere but home with her, without wishing desperately that we'd dragged the massive guard with us and making her sleep on a mattress on the floor next to our bed.

Second, after months and months of discussion and contemplation, Steve figured out a way to jury rig the wall-mounted baby gate protecting the top of the stairs from an accidental tumble, so the pain-in-the-ass noisy, insistent cats can still come and go when the gate is closed.  This is huge, as it now meant that we could remove the childproof doorknob cover that's decorated the inside of Samantha's door for so long, to allow her to exit her room when she wakes up, to go use the bathroom on her own.  She sleeps very soundly at night, so it's not until she awakens in the morning, which is perfect.  I still hear her get up, and go to check on her, but immediately we could see that she was super-proud of the uber-independent, big-girl notch in her belt.

Of course, when her independence is exerted while I'm in the shower, flushing the toilet when she's done, it does have its definite drawbacks...