So, we hung out for the first couple of hours with Sam at preschool today (to help him get used to it). And all of the little three year old girls found us utterly, utterly fascinating. They kept asking, "is that your baby? what's her name?" As if they had never seen a baby before in their entire life.
Whenever Lily tried to walk anywhere, she was instantly surrounded by at least six squealing girls (and one squealing boy) who petted her, grabbed her, tried to tickle her, tried to pick her up. This would happen over and over. One of the girls kept trying to "hug" Lily by wrapping her arms around Lily's neck and squeezing. Lily would gag and then push that girl away as hard as she could. (I was impressed, actually, at just how violent Lily was capable of getting.)
After awhile, Lily just couldn't take it anymore and started to cry. She sat on my lap for almost the whole time after that. And if you know Lily, you know that this is HUGE. She can't stand to stay in one place. She MUST, MUST, MUST keep moving, keep walking around. But she was not about to submit herself to the ravenous mauling of seven three year olds.
On my lap was the only safe place.
Reviewing the Mail: Week of 12/9
2 days ago