Week 23: Unconventional Wisdom

Someone is tapping my hand with their small, cold finger... I open my eyes slowly, and Emily says "I have to go to the bathroom". I nod and mumble something and off she goes. Why, oh why is it necessary to inform me of her bodily functions? I've told Emily over and over again that she doesn't need to tell me, but still she does, every time. I'm picturing a phone call in the middle of the night thirteen years from now, Emily's in her dorm room, "Mom, I have to go to the bathroom" ... "Yeah, okay honey, just go then".

Then five minutes later, a smaller, warmer hand is shoved into my mouth, grabs my lip and pulls. I try to move away and go back to sleep, but now the hand is poking me in the eye... I guess I better wake up.

I don't remember the last time I slept through the night, or god, even was able to blissfully sleep in on the weekend. I know, I know, I'm not complaining exactly, but I wouldn't turn down a night of uninterrupted sleep if it was offered.

There's something about becoming a parent that alters your sleep cycle. Before kids, I could sleep all night without waking at even the loudest noise. Now, my eyes snap open if Emily opens her door down the hall. A sixth sense? Maybe not, but it's definately this whole other level of awareness.

On the other hand, my level of awareness about other things is lacking. Who knew you had to pay attention to so much when your kid is in kindergarten? I didn't realize until we were driving Ian to work this morning that Emily doesn't have school today... or the rest of the week! We would have looked pretty silly up there at the bus stop today. And that's not even taking into consideration all the paperwork, permission slips, homework, reading schedules, fundraisers, and class parties. Have I talked about this before? Well I'm still shocked. I can't help but think I'm failing whatever test this is because I don't volunteer in the classroom and her homework isn't perfect. Is it just me? Why did I not know what was expected? Good god, what are other parents doing that actually work all day? It's a part time job just to keep up with Emily's school. It's so bad, I almost feel like the parent-teacher conference tomorrow is actually a report card for us. I'm just glad Ian's going.

I don't' know if my expectations are too low, but I think it's better just to let Emily be Emily. So what if she wants to draw bunny faces in the letter R that she was supposed to color? I think it's awesome that she walks to her own beat. Why squash her sense of individuallity and creativity at such a young age?

Because honestly, I'm secretly jealous of people like her that make their own path, society be damned. My brother, despite being tormented endlessly by his big sister, is also a wonderful, unique individual. He liked to draw as a child, so you know what he did? Went to art school. I will be forever jealous of his non-conventional dreams and creativity because I didn't have the guts to do it myself.

Oh, I still want to be a lawyer very much. I've never been more sure of anything. I've know it for at least four years, but I'd say I really knew when I sat down at the Portland Regional Mock Trial Competition after re-directing my witness with 26 seconds left on the clock, the adrenaline was pounding through my veins, and I thought, this is life, this is what I want to do.

But I can't say that part of me doesn't want to just write. I remember long ago I stared at a small piece of blue paper that said, "Intended Major" and wavered back and forth between English and Political Science. Do I regret choosing political science? No. But would my life be decidedly different had I gone the other way? Probably.

I'll never know what would have happened had I followed the unconventional path. But I do know I'll always encourage my kids to follow the path less traveled. And when Emily says she want's to be a "jail girl" (Corections Officer, I'm hoping, not a convict), I say good for you, for looking beyond "doctor", "teacher" or even, "lawyer".

My only hope for her, really, is that she can go to the bathroom someday without telling me.

Week 22: The Top Five

Will is five months old! I can't believe how big he is now, what happened to my blotchy, bald-headed little newborn? What happened to my chubby little toddler who used to babble nonsense, and is now talking back like a teenager? I think we'll just have to keep having babies every five years so I don't run out.

At five months, here are Will's top five favorite things:
1. Putting his fist in his mouth.
2. Watching Emily be a goof.
3. Putting his other fist in his mouth.
4. The sling (or being held in any way).
5. Putting both fists in his mouth at once.

And Will's top five least favorite things are:
1. Waking up.
2. Not rolling over.
3. Not being held.
4. Getting his face cleaned.
5. His carseat.

Will really is just overflowing with personality and cuteness, and really, if he had his way, he'd have someone look at him all day. Actually, mostly he does have his way, I do look at him all day. This is the point I kept looking forward to the whole pregnancy. When I would get to have him all day, and Will would be actually interacting. It's what got me through waddling my fat self home in the windy Pullman weather, passing by all the young kids from the dorms. In hindsight, I probably should have enjoyed pregnancy more, but really what's to enjoy? Of course it was worth it, but god, it was a miserable nine months. And really, my body is only now recovering from the stress of it all.

But things change, maybe in another five years, I'll enjoy pregnancy (that is, if we decide to have another baby). With Emily, I couldn't wait to wean her. Breastfeeding made me feel so trapped and overwhelmed. But with Will, it's one of my favorite times (it may also be due to different nursing styles, Will gets down to business, while Emily would literally nurse for hours and cry when she wasn't). Also, after seeing how healthy Emily is, and how amazing her immune system is, how could I not breastfeed Will?

And at this point, it's not really my decision. Anyone who says "if a baby is hungry enough, he'll take a bottle" hasn't met my kids. But with Will on track to eating real food, before I know it, he will be munching down cherios and gulping down milk from a sippy cup. He'll be a pink-cheeked terror and I'll be thinking, What happened to my little wispy-haired baby that only wanted to put his fists in his mouth?

Week 21: The Attached Parent

So if you were alive during the late 90's (and if you're reading this, you probably were), you remember a song by Hansen called Mmm Bop. You might even admit to listening to it, or maybe even liking it (it was catchy, wasn't it?). But it was nonesense, right? Mmm Bop isn't even a word, right? Well, if you ask Will, it is not only a word, it is currently his favorite word.

He rolls around from his tummy to his back uttering "Ahmmm Bup". He talks to his hands, "Mmmm Bup", his toys, "Bup Bup Bup" and greets me, sometimes with just a "mmmm", which of course I've taken to mean "mommy".

So he is still quite a talker, even when he isn't happy. Usually then he makes an irritated, hhhaammm sound. But his laugh... oh, how do describe it? Like a cross between a machine gun and an old man chuckling, "heh heh heh heh". One of his favorite games is to have one of us shake our head on his tummy, and say "I'm going to get you!". He cackles in anticipation with one hand wedged permanently in his mouth and drool pouring out. Which brings us to Will's main goal in life: Getting his whole fist in his mouth. First he tries one fist, then the other, and then both at once, figuring, I suppose, that one may be used as some kind of shoe horn. Nothing will derail him from his objective, and I admire his gusto.

I had forgotten the simple joy of babies after a few years with a tempermental toddler and preschooler. How, if Will's little face was any happier, it could just break in two. How is eyes twinkle, and how he is so overcome with bliss when he's nursing that his eyes roll back in his head.

I've been re-reading a book called Attachment Parenting by Katie Allison Granju to brush up on some things (A must-read by anyone who handles children, in my opinion). Even though I had checked out the book with Will in mind, I ended up thinking a lot about Emily and her babyhood. She spent so many hours in her sling, at what point did I stop carrying her? Of course I pick her up now and then, but I can't remember the last time I really carried her. After years of complaining about her not wanting to go in a stroller, and aching arms, suddenly I realize that we'll never have those times again. And I felt a little sad.

I also checked out The Little House on the Prarie to read to Emily. So far, getting past the whole "there are no pictures" concept has been difficult. Luckily, I also got a book called School on the Frontier or something like that. It reads something like "The schoolhouse had one room, sometimes with a small room where children would put their coats!" Very dry, but there are cool old photographs that I thought would flesh out the whole historical aspect of the Little House books. Shockingly enough, Emily has only wanted to read the schoolhouse book, so my plan actually backfired. But I'm not giving up. I loved the Little House books when I was Emily's age. I remember listening to the descriptions and imagining what everything looked like on the prarie, Mary with her blonde hair, Pa's big arms, the ponies pulling the wagon, even the food, which in hindsight sure seems pretty bad!

So I hope Emily will appreciate the books, or if not these, some series. As I wandered through the library's youth section, I passed shelves lined with The Bobsey Twins, The Boxcar Children, and even The Babysitter's Club, and it was like visiting old friends. I can't wait for Emily to enjoy getting lost in a book.

Emily said something really funny today. We were watching TLC's A Baby Story (A bit of pure programming genius on the part of TLC, trapping emotional new mothers home with their babies all day, reliving the most traumatic / joyous days of their lives) as I was making lunch and Emily said "I don't think I'll have a baby when I grow up". I asked very interested where this was coming from, "Why not?", and she replied "I don't want to have a shot". Oh honey. Compared to the rest of it, the shot is the least of your worries. But I played it off pretty well, reminding her of how she has had shots before, and how, really, not everyone necessarily needs a shot to have a baby. But I laughed to myself, it's funny how little minds work.

In other ways, I'm astonished at how unfunny other little minds work. I asked Emily if she wanted to wear this paticularly sweet little dress to school, and she said "No, Sierra said that I wear it too much". What!? Now, I know Emily is not perfect, far from it. But I know her well enough to know that she wouldn't engage in such materialistic, hurtful behavior. Not that Emily was hurt by the comment, she doesn't know better, but I burned with rage as I explained that if Sierra continued to say things like that, Emily should tell her to mind her own business. But really, even though I'm tempted to throw a few insults at this paticular child's family here, the truth probably is that this kid's life at home must be pretty awful for her to have to degrade other people like that. Yesh, it's only kindergarten for god's sake, I shudder to think of what kids are saying in junior high.

I'm just thankful that Emily seems, for the most part, to let things roll off her back. It will take more than that to upset her. Like, say, telling her to clean her room.

Week 20: Comedy Central

Will's cuteness has a downside: Sleep Deprevation. We were just settling in for the night last night, and as we were going through our nightly routine of talking about how wonderful and perfect he is, Will's little eyes fluttered open, we couldn't help ourslves, and we spent the next fifteen minutes snuggling him and playing with him. And Will, well, wasn't exactly willing to go right back to sleep after we came to our senses and decided go go to sleep ourselves. He spent the next ten minutes gnawing on my shirt and making his little "aggoooo" noise. Meanwhile, Ian had managed to fall asleep, and I figured since I was up, I might as well go downstairs and have a snack. One thing lead to another, and I found myself dozing off to Nick at Night on the futon.

Will did finally fall back asleep, and really, it wasn't that bad. At least he was happy about being awake. I'm just looking forward to sleeping in my soft bed tonight.

Although, even with an infant, I still feel more rested than I did at any point during my pregnancy. I'm reminded of this because I just found out that Sara and Cameron are expecting their second baby in May or June, and it was just a year ago I was at the same point Sara is right now. When I would fall asleep if I even sat down for longer than five minutes, and the afternoon programing on PBS allowed me a good half hour nap everyday (the theme song to Arthur still induces some Pavlovian reaction in me and I start to feel groggy). Sara being pregnant has further stirred up some pregnancy nostalgia, not in the kind of way that makes me want to be pregnant again. But in the that was the begining of what is now our Will kind of way.

So I guess this is also the one year anniversary of my Pregnancy/Baby Journal. We've come a long way since we saw that little fuzzy peanut appear on the black and white screen. Will has come a long way.

He has really started to laugh, you know those really good baby belly laughs. The one person he cracks up for the most? Emily. I can get a pretty good chuckle out of him by tickling his tummy and chin, but Emily, just by being herself, really gets him going. He stands in his exersaucer, stomps his feet, flaps his arms wildly, and just laughs and laughs at her antics.

Of course she is pretty funny, especially when she isn't even trying to be. If you've seen Napoleon Dynamite, you know that outfit with the moon boots? The other day Emily (with, mind you, a perfectly normal wardrobe, you know, not circa 1987) was able to do a perfect replica of Napoleon's look. The best part is that she's totally clueless. This, putting together strange clothes combos, paired with her decidedly left-brainness, makes me wonder what in the world she'll be when she grows up.

That is, if she can learn to read. Did I say we weren't worried about her academically? Maybe I spoke too soon. We read together and I try to get her to sound out words. It goes something like this:
Me: "Okay, Emily, lets sound this out, what's this letter?"
Emily: "C"
Me: "What does C say?"
Emily: "Cee"
Me: "Well, no, actually sometimes, like in this word, C says Ca, like a K"
Emily: "Ca"
Me: "Good! What's this next letter say?"
Emily: "A"
Me: "Great! And the next?"
Emily: "T"
Me: "Okay, now put it together"
Emily: "Caaaa...Ahhh....Tttt"
Me: "Okay, a little faster"
Emily: "Ce-A-T"
Me: "Um, remember C says Ca, like K in this word"
Emily: "Oh yeah... It says mushroom!"
Me: "...."

And it continues like that in circles, for as long as I can stand it. Granted, the letter "C" is a difficult one, and I place some blame on the English language, but most of the time, it's like she's not even trying. Like when I try to teach her how to tie her shoes, and we go step-by-step and she seems to get it, then I tell her to try herself and she just twists the laces around each other and says, "Look, I did it!". Oy.

But I think we'll focus on enjoying Emily's cool, funny, weirdness. I don't doubt that she will learn how to read. Tying her shoes on the other hand... well it's a good thing they invented velcro. She wants to be a rock star for Halloween, which I love. I love how she dances around and "head banes" and how, right now, she's standing on her stuffed horse. And I love how she got so excited about the peaches with "spikits" on top (Peach Cobbler). And most of all, I love that she loves to make Will laugh. And I love that he loves to laugh at her.