This isn’t a new video but, as suggested for the 3rd prompt, it’s one of my best memories. (And no, this is not helping my baby fever.)
Recipe for Going Crazy
June 6, 2011 by ·
Add:
1 road trip
1 high-energy toddler
1 minor time change that throws off the schedule of people who normally quite like routine
Different environments that seem to inevitably cause above-noted toddler to have a gigantic screaming fit at bedtime
1 mom already feeling the angst of a state of limbo
A few shots of driving back and forth between places that are beautiful but that also happen to cause this:
Subtract:
Sufficient personal space
Normal required amount of exercise
A few elements of normally good diet and nutrition
Your finished product should look like this:
Heading home tomorrow.
Pride In the Name of Love
May 28, 2011 by ·
I haven’t written about day-to-day Connor stuff here much, but today I’m going to take a moment for some mama pride. I’ve always been proud of my little guy for so many things, but this week I’m just bursting. Each thing is little – and for some families totally unremarkable – but they’re so meaningful to us. Put together I’m just over-the-top in love with him all over again.
- He seems to have nailed the potty training thing. He’s been really good for a while, but no more pull-ups during the day and he’s not even really having accidents. Even doing well when we’re out!
- He’s been so good with manners. Again, he’s always been pretty good at this but hearing the unprompted pleases and thank yous in that little voice – for even the littlest things – is so awesome.
- He’s been listening better. This is pretty big for us. He’s not perfect (what toddler is?) but in the last week we’ve had more cooperation and less all-out meltdown in response to requests to do or not do or to clean up something. (Big thanks to Yael Saar for her wisdom from Ithaca – it helped!) Maybe part of this is me – I’m calmer this week, and he might be responding to that too.
- And the big one – on Thursday night he slept in his bed by himself! He had one wake-up at 11, came downstairs and slept on the couch for a while with Daddy, who was watching TV. When Rich took him back upstairs, Connor said, “You’re taking me upstairs? Oh, thank you, Daddy.” And then he stayed in his bed. All night! He came into our room just before 7 on Friday morning and we woke to a little voice announcing, “I had a really good sleep.” There was much rejoicing and then he said, “I did it! Yay, Connor!” Love it. Not only did he do it, but he understands that this is the goal and he was proud of himself for doing it. (Of course I was awake on and off after about 4 am wondering if he was okay, but still…) No repeat performance last night, but I’ll take whatever progress I can get.
I just love this kid.
Comforter
May 24, 2011 by ·
“I don’t want to sleep in my new bed!”
“Why not, honey?”
“It’s too old.”
He has a thing about things being too “old”. When we converted his crib into a toddler bed it was “too old” even though it was clearly a new set-up with new bedding. “Old” just means “I don’t want it.”
“It’s not too old!”
My excited voice.
“It’s brand new and you have new bedding just for you and everything! You even helped daddy build it!”
It’s actually the double bed from our guest room with a frame bought at a second hand store, but he doesn’t make the connection past wondering where that bed went.
“No it’s not. It’s old.”
He has such a sad face. Such a sad voice.
I know what he’s feeling. He wants to be close to mama and daddy. He’s not comfortable with this.
But it’s time he learned to sleep in his own bed.
Each night at bedtime, one of us will climb into his new bed, read stories, and get him settled for sleep. We lie with him until he’s asleep, a necessary step at this point.
When he’s asleep, we sneak out.
I’ve looked back at him as I walk out – he does look like a small boy in a big bed. I get this overwhelming rush of love because he’s my baby. But it’s time. Besides, he’s an octopus and everyone will sleep better if the octopus sleeps in his own bed.
Inevitably, sometime before midnight (and often much earlier) he will get up. Come to us.
“I want to sleep in your bed.”
For months we alternated – one night with dad in our bed, one night with me in the guest room. We needed the sleep.
For the last few weeks we’ve been sleeping as a family. We’ve loved having him – I’ve woken in the night and watched my boys sleep and have felt so blessed – but even in a king bed it’s sometimes too much with him in there. He sleeps like a baby monkey clinging to his mother. (And I happen to be that mother.)
That night, I escorted him back to bed. Lay down with him until he slept again, then started planning my escape. But there’s no leaving. In the middle of the night his mama-presence radar is on high alert.
He woke and I resigned myself to sleeping with him.
This is what we’ll do for now – alternate sleeping with him in his new “old” bed so he gets used to it.
He was restless that night, rolling and turning, sitting up and lying down again, trying to find the right position.
Restless child = wakeful mama.
Some time just before 5 am, he woke. Sat up and looked at me.
“I want a cuddle.”
He curled himself into me.
He seemed cold so I pulled the comforter over him again, tucking it around him. Moments later he kicked it off.
Then he took my hand and pulled my arm around him, tucking it under his warm body.
I understood. He might have new bedding, but in that moment his comforter was me.
Strollers in the Street
May 16, 2011 by ·
The initial bend in the S-shaped street was behind us, meaning we were about halfway into our walk, but before we got to the next curve she was there, walking toward us, then paused beside us, rocking her stroller lightly.
She had stopped so I stopped, but she initiated the small talk. The how-old-is-your-baby and do-you-live-near-here questions.
My responses were short but polite. Friendly but not encouraging. Her baby – several months younger than my then 9-month-old – was asleep peacefully in the stroller. Mine was asleep as well, but looking at him gave me no feelings of peace. I knew enough to know that if we were stopped much longer he’d wake up, and that would be bad. I glared at the dog, willing him not to make any noises – the kind guaranteed to wake my child – indicating he wanted to keep walking.
So I kept the conversation light and short, then bade her farewell with a mention that I needed to keep walking so he’d keep sleeping.
What I didn’t tell her was that I needed him to keep sleeping. That we walked every day at this time because he refused to sleep otherwise and I had tried everything and getting him to sleep in his stroller was the only thing that was keeping me remotely sane. That sometimes, if he kept sleeping, I walked for hours, playing chicken with the line where a good nap turns into a nap that messes with bedtime.
I couldn’t tell her all this because at the time I thought I was the only one who panicked like that. Who would do anything to keep that stroller moving so he’d stay asleep and not wake up and start to fuss and flood my being with despair.
It’s been over three years since we met on the road that day. I never saw her again, but the other day I walked down that same stretch of road. I was with dog, but without stroller. Life has changed a lot since then, and yet some of those same feelings still remain in me. I also now know a lot more about how many women experience a rough start to motherhood. As I walked, I wondered if she was one of them.
I mentioned this to my husband, and questioned whether I would have uncovered something – something she needed, some sort of help, companionship, or even just an adult conversation – had my protective shield not been so firmly in place that day.
Maybe she saw something in you, he said. Maybe she sensed that you needed help.
Maybe.
There’s no way to know, so in that moment during my recent walk I just paused and thought of her – a sincere “sorry” if she were someone I could have helped had I known, and a dose of good thoughts for wherever her path along motherhood has taken her since.
