Conversations

Little Bit can amaze me daily with his insight and his sense of humor. He likes to 'hide' things behind his back, then ask, "Where crayon?" So I say, "Where is the crayon?" He grins and says, "Hiding!"

Last week, he was playing in the tub for his bath. DH opened the drain. As he watched the water disappear down the drain, Little Bit asked, "Where wa-der?" so I answered, "Where is the water?" He answered, "Hiding!"

Little Bit loves, loves, loves to play outside. This is a little boy who has been known to get out of bed, still in pajamas, and run to the backdoor immediately, saying, "Outside! Outside!" This past weekend we had a heat index of 105+. He wanted to go out, but then refused to go into the sun, staying in the shade where it was slightly cooler than Africa-hot. After coming inside for a bit, DH asked if he wanted to go outside again. Little Bit answered, "No outside." DH asked, "Who are you?! What did you do with my son?" Little Bit put a hand on his chest and answered DH's first question, who are you, "ME!!"

I think part of his reluctance to go outside was his hope that we would turn the TV back on. I love watching TV. It's my de-stressor. I watch everything from National Geographic and Discovery Channel documentaries to HGTV makeovers and dumb reality tv shows (Hell's Kitchen). One of the doctors at our son's pediatrician office is a big proponent of no TV until age two, then no more than two hours a day. We stuck by that -- no tv really until he was about a month before his second birthday. I'd sometimes watch tv while he was playing on the floor, but he never seem interested in it. He preferred building with his blocks or examining his books.

That's changed now. Oh, how that's changed. My parents gave him a Mickey Mouse doll last Christmas. He had never seen a Mickey Mouse cartoon, but he seemed to like the doll ok. Then, one day a few months ago, we turned on the tv to "The Mickey Mouse Clubhouse". I'm sure it was magical to see his doll alive and speaking on the tv. A few weeks ago when I was sick and DH wasn't feeling well either, we let him watch several episodes of Mickey off the DVR. I've created a monster. Now, daily, we are greeted with cries of "Mickey!! TV on!!" If we say that it's time to say goodbye to Mickey and turn off the TV, he throws himself on the couch in despair.

We've also added "Little Einsteins" and sometimes "Handy Manny" to the mix. "Tigger and Pooh" fills in once in awhile on the weekend. On the positive side, the Disney Channel has few commercials during these shows; just at the half hour, there will be a message that So-and-So is proud to sponsor Playhouse Disney. I must admit too that it is unbearably cute to hear Little Bit answering the questions posed by the characters on the tv. "Do you want to help us find Donald?" "Yes!" He'll pat his legs along with the kids on "Little Einsteins" to help Rocket go faster. The shows are just his speed. Just don't tell the doctor.

Girls Gone Wild

Wow. Just wow. Being wasted is not a get-out-of-jail-free card to excuse being disrespectful to yourself and to young, impressionable women who might look up to you. It's not feminist to drink yoursef to oblivion all the time and have (unprotected) sex with anyone and everyone. Saying things like, 'only stupid girls get raped' and 'I was raped once but I like didn't do anything about it because I had better things to do, like get drunk.'? Yeah, definitely not feminist, just terribly tragic.

I'm reminded of news stories I've seen about young girls in high school having their stupid acts come back to haunt them. Topless shots instant-messaged to the cute boy in chemistry which then land on the internet and every other boy's cell phone. Video of them drunk on youtube and myspace. Many people make mistakes when they're navigating the road from childhood to adulthood, but now, the internet can broadcast those mistakes long into their futures.

There is no snooze button on a toddler

Scene - early morning, our bedroom, DH and I trying vainly to leap, gazelle-like, out of bed. Little Bit is bright-eyed and bushy tailed, alternately playing 'Hop Bunny' and climbing the chest at the foot of the bed.

Little Bit: (sing-song voice, from the side of the bed) Maaaaa-maaaa!
Me: (blearily open one eye from the depths of the pillow) Yes, sweetie?
Little Bit: Up!
(pause)
Little Bit: Daaaa-daaaa!
DH: Yes?
Little Bit: Up!

There is no snooze button on a toddler.

That tricky and clever Mother Nature

Nature and biology are tricky, clever things. They make your memories fuzzy and not so immediate. So, you forget how it actually feels to take care of a newborn. Before Little Bit, I 'knew' intellectually that the first few months are hard and that you don't get much sleep. However, the reality was a slap in the face. My body was sore, my hormones were in turmoil, and the long-tunnel feeling that came from sleep deprivation made my PPD even harder. I remember the first morning that DH was supposed to go back to work after the birth. I was going to be alone for the first time with this crying baby, who depended on me for everything, and it scared me out of my mind. I cried and begged him not to leave. I just couldn't do it. Thankfully, DH was able to work from home some and only go in for half days for awhile. After Little Bit's stay in the hospital, my mom came and stayed for two weeks to help me.

Then, much earlier than I had planned, I returned to work. I had always thought that I would want to stay home with the baby as long as possible. I was very wrong. I liked being able to go to pee when I needed to, to eat a meal with both hands, to talk to others. Plus, I just couldn't deal with the crying. I had such a physical and emotional reaction to his crying. I was desperate to calm him and comfort him and make him stop crying. I felt like a failure if I couldn't.

It really wasn't until Little Bit was a little older, about 3 months old, that I got a handle on the PPD. Also, by then, he was becoming more interactive. By the time he was almost a year old, I was able to take FMLA time off work to be home with him and to really enjoy it. I love playing with him and seeing him discover things. I'm one one of those people who prefer babies after the newborn stage.

So, why am I writing about this now? To remind myself. Because, like I said, nature is clever. It's been long enough that even though I said, no, never, not gonna do this again, there is a part of me looking at the pictures on other moms' blogs of newborns and feeling a longing. Thankfully, many of these moms are also posting truthfully about the reality of having a newborn and a toddler. That helps bring me back to reality.

Logically, I think it would be too hard for us to deal with two children at once. We both like having the freedom to give each other a break, while the other one is 'on duty'. I imagine that would be hard to do with two. This last weekend, I was very sick with a sinus infection and feeling quite nauseous. I tried to imagine feeling morning sickness for weeks/months and having a toddler pestering me to get up off the couch and play with him. Not fun. I also slept so poorly (waking every hour or so) that by early the next morning, I felt that long-tunnel feeling which reminded me how I felt in Little Bit's first months with so little sleep. Reality. It was so hard the first time. How could I do it a second time?

So, why do newborn pictures fill me with sadness (that Little Bit is not that little anymore) and longing?

Reading with a two year old

Little Bit's favorite book right now is "Go, Dog. Go!" He loves to 'read' along with me, repeating the words. I love reading books with him. You know that fuzzy, warm glow picture that you might have had before becoming a parent of reading stories and singing nursery rhymes to your child? That's what it feels like.

He's snuggled up in my lap, leaning back against me. My little baby, already twice as tall as when he was born. Already needing a size 9 toddler shoe. My baby who loves to jump and laugh and run. According to height predictors, he'll probably be 6 feet tall in another 16 years. But right now, I can hold him in my lap. His hand still fits within mine. His little body curves next to my heart. I hold the book, but he turns the pages.

"Bundle up so you don't f'eeze!!" he says, holding up his feet, happy to be part of the story.

Said very seriously and loudly, "S'top dawg, 'top!" He emphasizes the 'stop' with kicks of his little legs.

Then, I read, "Go, dog! Go! It's green ahead!"

"Green a-head!" he says, putting his hands on his head. Ahead - head, get it? I can't help but laugh.

He knows the book well enough now to anticipate what's next.

"...Climb that ladder to..." I read.

"Dawg part-ee!!" he says with glee.

In hearing other stories, he's fascinated with the Mama and/or DaDa. He points to the Mama bunny in "Runaway Bunny" and says, "Mama?" "Mama?"
"Mama!"

He points to the Mama and Dada birds (the Nene) in his "Goodnight, Hawaii" book. "Mama," he points to the bird, then, says, "Mama" and pats my stomach. He points to the baby birds. "Bee-bee!" he says. Pointing to himself, "Bee-bee!" he says proudly.

Yes, I say, you are my baby.

Time to bloom

So, remember back in March when I wrote about planting wildflower seeds in our yard? Have you been wondering how our yard looks?

Yeah, our yard looks nothing like this. I scattered those wildflower seeds in fresh organic dirt and then watered them. These are wildflowers, ya'll. They grow by the side of the road, hanging onto small dirt patches, coughing in automobile fumes. But they didn't grow in my flower beds. I suppose I was a little too "survival of the fittest" and didn't even give them extra watering beyond the first week. Obviously, I did not get the fittest seeds.

There were a few pitiful sprouts in the front flowerbeds, but most of those turned out to be weeds. I did get some successful sprouts in the backyard -- two lavender plants now about 2 inches tall, two "St. John's fire" salvia, and two flowering vines that have reached 8 inches tall. I feel so proud.

I plan to spend a lot of green at Lowe's and buy potted wildflowers -- daisies and sages and violets, oh my. Yeah, this time, we're setting up a drip irrigation system and actually watering the darn things.

Memories of Hawaii