The Chair

This post is way past due, but I want to get it down before I forget and years from now I don't remember it.  There are so many things from when Andy and Sarah were little that I thought I would remember forever and now couldn't even remember it if you asked me detailed questions about it.  I don't want that to continue happening.  I don't want to tell the same five stories over and over again when my grandchildren ask me about their parents.  I want to have this reminder of it all.

End rant.  Anywho...

A few months ago we went to the girls' school for their teacher conferences.  We sat with Amanda's teacher and she told us how well she was doing.  Her understanding of Spanish was growing daily, she got along really well with all the kids, and she was getting so good at going to the bathroom.  Wonderful.  Her only issue, that the teacher kind of mentioned in passing at the end of the conference, was her attachment to her chair.  That's right, her chair.

Apparently she insisted on sitting on the chair at the end of the table.  There are two tables in the room, but it had to be the table on the right.  She would not sit anywhere else.  If someone was in her chair, she would get visibly upset and they would have to move the other child so she could sit there.

I had never noticed this before.  Probably because when I dropped her off she was crying uncontrollably for me and wasn't even near the table.  I didn't want them to baby her and give her everything she wanted (like I try not to do but constantly fail) and told them not to give in and make her sit somewhere else.  Nope, they weren't going to do that.  I guess that was the one battle they weren't going to fight with her.  She wanted that chair.

I'm not sure where it came from.  The only thing I could think of was she sits at the end of the table at home when we eat, so maybe she equated the end of the table as her spot no matter where she was.  As the weeks passed, I started to pay attention.  Sure enough, she always went for that chair.  By this time the other kids didn't even need to be told to move, when they saw her coming they would get up and find another chair on their own without being asked.  Everyone in that class knew that was her chair.  They weren't upset about it and they didn't fight, it's just how it was.

About a month ago Amanda stopped crying when I dropped her off at school.  Yes, it really took that long.  Around that time I also noticed that when she came into the classroom in the morning she would sit in any chair that was open.  She didn't need the end chair anymore.  Of course that one is still the one she prefers, but she doesn't get upset if it's taken.  She just looks around and finds an empty one.

My little girl is growing up.  Maturing, if you can say that for a two-year-old.  Learning that the world isn't going to fall apart if she doesn't get what she wants and it's okay to share.  It should make me sad, at least a little, because she's not really a baby anymore, but it really doesn't.  I'm so excited to see who she's going to be and for her to grow her personality and transform from a baby to a kid.

She is just so amazing right now, it's only going to get better.  Of course in another six months when she starts to talk back I'm going to eat those words, but let me live in my fantasy for a little while longer.