I'm sure I will have many stories of my sister's visit when she packs up her three year-old and eight week-old daughters tomorrow and heads back to Chicago. What do you expect when you jam three car seats in the back of a little SUV and set us all loose, baby carriers, strollers and all, on the great city of Detroit. I love hanging with all these girls, even if we do feel like a traveling circus at times. The highlight for me will likely be tonight, as Nate my sis and I sat on the couch watching a new guilty pleasure, Top Chef, and responding to the various squaks and squeaks over the baby monitor or shouted down from upstairs. One of us would disappear briefly to feed or comfort and then return to the couch.
At 11:15 p.m., there was a terrible commotion from my niece's room. She is a little girl going through a whole lotta change with her new little sis, and we're all working to help her feel good about being her. The screaming and crying was intense enough that my sis went running up, and the crying didn't stop until they came down together. Was there a monster in the room? A nightmare? Was there bodily harm? No, my niece really really really needed...some hummus. Yes, she couldn't sleep because she needed to have some hummus. Right now. And when a toddler wants something late and night in a house full of other sleeping babies, she kind of rules to roost. Of course she gets her damn hummus, 'cuz are we really gonna risk everyone awake this late at night? And so here we are as she slowly gums her pita, snuggled in her mom's lap. I used to think things would be so much easier when I could reason with my kid, that once these months of little or no communication pass I would be able to understand my kid's needs and meet them. And I guess in many ways I see that's right. I just never thought those "needs" would include a garlicky midnight snack.
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