Saturday, Part 2, AKA Super-Special-Excremental-Day-With-Rock-A-Tosis

Well, just when you think you have a plan in place, life happens.

Someone woke up in a VERY bad mood. (I would say it was me, but I didn't nap, so ....) She smiled when I picked her up, but then she dropped to the floor and start rocking again. When I tried to cuddle her she pushed me away in favor of solo rocking. She whipped her little body back and forth, thumb in mouth, looking totally miserable but refusing all attempts at comfort. I thought she was hungry, given the sparse lunch (Molly, I would have blamed the goldfish, too, but she had those two whole hours before lunch). I grabbed some yogurt. She shook her head. I offered some on a spoon. She shook her head again. I figured she might be like Daniel was at that age, when he would be starved but too stubborn to eat until we managed to get a bite of cheese into him, and then he would inhale his food. So I slipped a bit of yogurt into her mouth.

Guess who isn't just like Daniel?

She was furious. And heartbroken. She cried big sobbing tears around her yogurt until she managed to spit it all out. I wiped her cheeks and wiped her mouth and picked her up and held on, even when she pushed and kicked and squirmed. I held her and rocked her back and forth in my arms, singing total nonsense tunes to try to get it across that if she needed comfort, there was a better way than rolling herself across the wooden floor. She finally let go and rested herself against me, letting me rub her back and rock her and be with her. Of course, as soon as she settled, I started crying ... but we both made it. After we cuddled for a long time, she slipped off my knee and pointed to the banana on the windowsill. I gave her half. She ate that, then the other half, and then - surprise, surprise - polished off the entire carton of yogurt. Yep, the same one she'd rejected so violently just a few minutes earlier.

Then she gave me the second present of the day. Oh joy.

Once we got through all of that, it was too late to go to either the park or the playground, and I no longer felt ready to take on the restaurant. So we walked to the store. On the way we passed a woman selling something on the street (I never did see what). She was talking to a man who was with her and another, younger woman. The young one heard us talking and said, "You speak English?" Oh, what sweet words! As it turns out, that was her very best phrase, but it was still lovely to hear. They all fussed over Suzannah, who stood silently staring at them all, then the English-speaking one gave Suzannah an apple. Oh, what treasure! That apple did not leave that little hand all the way to the store, through the store, or home from the store.

Minor victory: I got the money right at the store tonight!! It's really pathetic, the things that make me proud these days. Every time I manage to ask for a meatball from the hot food lady, I feel like I just won a frickin' Nobel prize.

On the way home, a nice lady tried to talk to me as we were crossing the road, but once again, my "I don't understand Russian" fell on disbelieving ears. She had quite the conversation with me. I wish I could have taken part.

The same street vendors were at the corner on our way back, and they had lots of questions for us. They fussed some more over Suzannah and tried to figure out how she & I went together. One woman kept asking me something about documents and problem, and then mimicked Suzannah's eyes - asking, I think, if she had Down's syndrome. I did my best to answer, but mostly we spent a lot of time laughing and saying, "Sorry!" But the older woman was entranced by Suzannah, told us to wait, and disappeared for a couple of minutes while we talked. When she came back, she had a great big Nestle's hazelnut chocolate bar for my girl. I didn't bother trying to tell her that Suzannah isn't fond of chocolate. I mean, that would have just been rude, right?

Dinner went much better than lunch. She loved my cheese and tomato sandwich, and then discovered the joy of bread and butter. Or, sometimes, just butter. She also polished off a whole serving of tomato cup-a-soup and a crapload of grapes - with "crapload" being the operative word. Yep, soon it was time for the third present of the day. I surrendered at that point and popped her into the tub. She splashed and poured and giggled, and then I pulled her out, all clean and fresh and sweet smelling - until she pulled the towel away and peed all over the hotel carpet.

Insert major sigh here. Oh, and Larry? If you're going to BJ's before I get home, you might want to buy a mega-case of Pull-Ups.

We finally got into jammies, and looked at books, and watched more Animal Planet, and played some hide-and-run-into-Mommy's-arms games. Then she stood very still for a minute, then led me into the bathroom and presented me with a freshly soaked diaper. Ah, well.

Once she was dry & fresh AGAIN, she led me into the bedroom and plopped on the bed for another tickle-fest. She also imitated the snoring sounds I'd made last night while we were playing, and then stuck her thumb in her mouth and cuddled up next to me. I was half tempted to let us both fall asleep just like that, but came to my senses when she sat up and climbed off the bed. There were no tears when I tucked her in tonight. YAY!

To address a couple of comments - um, when I tried to help Suzannah play with another little girl, it was the innocent bystander child I pushed to tears, not Suzannah. And Sara, I have a big note by the phone bearing your name, to remind me to ask Vala about your letter next time she calls. And thanks for the tips!

Tomorrow's plan: make it through the day. If all goes as originally planned, today was the halfway point in this trip. I so, SOOOO want to start counting down the days ...

(Dagnabbit! I just spent 20 minutes uploading a video, and something failed. ARGH. I'll try again tomorrow.)