Andy is moving up to the three-year-old room at school this week. Yes, he's already three, but when he started at his new school, he wasn't as confident with the toilet training so they thought it best to keep him in the two-year-old room until he was ready. I was fine with that. It's a smaller class and the teachers seem really nurturing. With potty training mostly figured out (the glorious moment last Sunday at the DC United game in the broiling heat when he decided to crap in his pants aside), he's now ready for the transition. I was nervous, but he's taking it like a champ.
I like how they do it. They bring him over for a few hours during the day for circle time and playing in the morning with the older kids and then returning back for lunch and a nap with his old class. That's how it went yesterday and he did great. Today, he did so great that he didn't even go back to his old class at all. He was having so much fun when I showed up that he cried when it was time to leave. I'd say that's a good sign.
Meg is also growing up before my eyes. I looked at her the other morning and I swear her face is somehow fuller or rounder than the day before. It was just so, so babylike somehow and less infant/newbornish that I had to stare at her for a few minutes and soak it in. She's just so beautiful and round, like the picture of the Gerber baby. I swear sometimes I look at her and think to myself, "You? You were once inside me? That's just crazy."
And while she's getting bigger, she's still not rolling over which has me slightly paranoid. On the one hand, I'm glad she's not mobile yet. Once that happens, this little blissful like of being able to put her down and know she'll be there in five minutes when I get done wiping Andy's butt will be over and I'll have to improvise ways to keep her contained. That said, isn't five months a little on the late end of rolling over? Perhaps she's just not in a hurry to get anywhere yet.