So, today was one of those truly special days at daycare when Jane only takes one nap. If by "special" I mean "horrible," because that means the countdown to bedtime will be slow, tear-soaked and drama-filled. Indeed, that's how this evening was progressing. I tried to entertain Jane with her toys and books, but she wasn't having it. So I took her on a long walk, during which she fell asleep. Imagine her delight (and mine) when I took her out of her stroller with a half hour to go until bedtime. Sadness! Misery! Wailing! Until....
I have a magic trick. When the shit really hits the fan, I go to my special saved DVR recording that is guaranteed to work. I was afraid that tonight it would fail, because, o, woe was her. But I had to give it a shot. She was crying and generally lamenting her very existence until she heard this blog's favorite Lin-Manuel Miranda kick off In the Heights' Tony performance with "Lights up on Washington Heights up at the break of day...."
She turns and looks at me like, "Holy crap, Mom! Look who's here!" She whips her head back to the TV just to make sure, then looks back at me with a gigantic smile, her legs wiggling, her body bouncing. She's been happy ever since.
Everyone who meets Jane comments how she looks nothing like me, and everything like Greg. And it's true. But she's got some me in her. She's a theater dork in the making.