Doggy Pushed You.

With Turner, we had routines. We walked out on the front porch first thing, and then we had breakfast. After breakfast we cleaned our plates and dressed. We gym-ed it at certain times on certain days, and we storytime-d it at other times on other days. We brushed our teeth together and lotion'd together and took walks after dinner and read books every night. Our routines revolved around a 2:00 pm nap time. . . two or more hours of blissful quiet in the afternoon when I could write. Nap time was a rather inflexible container for creative energies and, looking back, I'm glad I valued my work enough to actually create space for it.

Mabel's life is less conducive to schedules, something I've mentioned before. Mabel naps everyday, and will nap for two hours under some pretty narrow conditions, and unlike her brother, she couldn't care less when the nap actually starts or ends. She doesn't really lose it at any point, though she does become quite resistant to discipline and her energy level spikes at points, forcing her to squeal loudly with delight. This summer, I'm trying to be more intentional to build small routines with Mabel and, thus far, this includes watering the flowers or taking a walk after she wakes up from her nap. Last night, we took a walk after dinner and watched a turtle navigate the gravel road and brush near the road for quite a bit. This was after investigating ants at various points.

Last week, Mabel woke up from her nap and the two of us went outside to water the flowers. While we were working, the neighbor's dog came over to visit. Jake is a puppy that has grown six inches in the last two weeks. No joke. He is going to be a big dog someday soon. On this particular day, though, he remains clumsy and unconscious of his size. Mabel calls him over, as usual, by screaming "Doggy" as loudly as she can. I'm watering flowers and just as I sit the hose down to supervise Jake's visit, the dog is up on two feet and the other two paws touch on Mabel's chest then her head. Mabel's hands start rowing a boat to shore, and her arms makes big circles as she tries to hang on to her balance. She falls just as I grasp a fingertip, and I save her head from hitting the concrete. She does not cry and the dog is instantly in our faces licking. "Get!" I shout, Jake's caretaker (who is actually a painter working next door) sits on his tailgate on the other side of the fence. At the sound of voice, he asks "He jumping on her?"

"Yeah. He did. Knocked her to the pavement." I'm brushing the dirt off Mabel's backside and inspecting her parts. On her ankle is a bloody scrape. "Oh Mabel. Are you okay?" She isn't crying but she won't talk either. She mouths a weak uh huh and puts her head on my shoulder. "Poor baby. Did the doggy push you?" She rocks her head on my shoulder, nodding yes and saying "uh huh" again.

The next morning, after a lovely slumber, Mabel wakes up and calls out to me. I retrieve her from her bed and pull her to my chest. Usually, she settles right in but on this morning she is contorting herself in order to touch her ankle. When I figure this out, I stretch out her leg and gaze upon the ouchie. "That your ouchie, Mabel?"

"Uh huh. Doggy push you."

"Oh, did the doggy push you?"

"Uh huh. Doggy push you."

"Mabel, I think the doggy pushed me. Not me."

She looks a bit perplexed, puts her head on my shoulder again, and says, "Uh huh. Doggy push you."

For the last seven days, Mabel's first thing said in the morning and after nap and just about anytime when we are riding around in the car or when she gets bored or meets new people, Mabel points to her ankle and says, "Doggy push you." Sometimes she'll repeat "me" once corrected.  What's so funny about this story, though, is that somewhere along the way, doggy started sounding an awful lot like daddy. One night, she was adamantly telling Andy about the doggy and the push and accidentally said, "Daddy pushed me." We laughed, of course, though Andy's feelings were clearly wounded. Now, when Andy is around, she says "Daddy pushed me" and points to her scratched up ankle, but she tells others it was the doggy.