As 2008 comes to a close I can't help but be amazed as I peruse my journal from this past year. Since Cole's birth, I have kept bi-weekly observations about him, his growth, milestones, behaviors and emerging personality & character quirks in a special notebook. It has been important to me (much like my reason for maintaining this BLOG) to capture in print (or cyberprint) the everyday moments that so easily slip from my memory as weeks meld into one another. I wanted to be sure to honor who he was as an infant and a young toddler as I know I will not remember the little things five years from now that Dave and I currently find so fascinating about our lil guy.
Some of my remarks make me laugh out loud as they bring instant recall such as "has a staccato laugh, he sounds like a dolphin" (13 months); "babbles with what seems to be an European inflection in his voice, nods his head as he speaks" (14 months); "prefers to walk backwards and back into your lap" (14 months); "sits on bottom step of stairs and seems to ponder" (15 months); "mountain goat as a nickname is most fitting at this time" (15 months); "blows spittle and sucks it back in and laughs" (16 months); "Houdini has figured out how to undo the safety latches" (17 months); "future racecar driver as he LOVES to sit in the JEEP (while parked in the garage) and "drive" (17 months); "saying "TRUCK" repeatedly for anything with wheels" (18 months); "scared of thunder, the bathroom exhaust fan and Tucker's barking" (19 months); "puts paper of any kind in the toilet and flushes" (20 months); "finally enjoying books" (20 months); "broke his arm at Montessori, what an ordeal" (21 months); "made his TV debut on the PIC ME show on Noggin" (21 months); "using 2-3 word sentences with conviction despite the fact that we don't have a clue as to what he is saying" (22 months); "moved to big boy bed, so sad to see crib go" (22 months); "excitedly states "I DID IT" when he completes something" (23 months; "loves to give kisses and has become a snuggler as never before (23 months); "has mastered opening the refrigerator door" (24 months); "talking in slang already spouting out "YEP" (24 months)
I used words such as spirited, fearless, curious, and determined again and again as I read through my notations, words that consistently continue to define him as he enters his third year!
As Cole takes on bolder and more adventurous endeavors on his whirlwind tour of life, the realm of possibilities are endless as he leads us down his own path. Who knows what 2009 holds for him (and us) but I will make sure to continue to document his journey so that one day he will have a time stamp and first hand account of his life seen through his mother's eyes.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Friday, December 19, 2008
The greatest gift...
"Life's greatest gift is the complicated, maddening, rewarding and delicious involvement we have with those we dearly love"--Susan Cheever in "As Good As I Could Be"
As I rush around in the days before our road trip to Pennsylvania for Christmas I keep thinking back to the above quote. It is such a true statement that experiencing the intense relationships of our lives is the supreme gift that we should all be grateful for.
Raising Cole has reminded me to appreciate a person for they are. He is his own little person full of independence, drive and desire. When I get frustrated with his behavior, I have to remember that he is finding out about himself every day of every waking hour. I have to sometimes step back and respect that gigantic undertaking more than I do.
Our jobs as parents is not to tell them how to behave but to guide them and show them how to interact with themselves, others and the environment. Taking an extra moment to accept who they are becoming, helping them to process their emotions and forge ahead is vital to their future self awareness. It is so easy to wish the tantrum away, beg for them to act differently or get angry at their seemingly defiant ways but normally these acute reactions can be diffused with a quiet place, an offered hug or an acknowledgment that validates their confusion/frustration/resentment. The exact treatment we as adults request when having a tough go of it.
Cole is Cole and I would never want to be a part of making him be somebody other than himself!
As I rush around in the days before our road trip to Pennsylvania for Christmas I keep thinking back to the above quote. It is such a true statement that experiencing the intense relationships of our lives is the supreme gift that we should all be grateful for.
Raising Cole has reminded me to appreciate a person for they are. He is his own little person full of independence, drive and desire. When I get frustrated with his behavior, I have to remember that he is finding out about himself every day of every waking hour. I have to sometimes step back and respect that gigantic undertaking more than I do.
Our jobs as parents is not to tell them how to behave but to guide them and show them how to interact with themselves, others and the environment. Taking an extra moment to accept who they are becoming, helping them to process their emotions and forge ahead is vital to their future self awareness. It is so easy to wish the tantrum away, beg for them to act differently or get angry at their seemingly defiant ways but normally these acute reactions can be diffused with a quiet place, an offered hug or an acknowledgment that validates their confusion/frustration/resentment. The exact treatment we as adults request when having a tough go of it.
Cole is Cole and I would never want to be a part of making him be somebody other than himself!
Friday, December 12, 2008
Who knew...
Who knew that something as seemingly innocuous as a graham cracker or pretzel breaking into two parts could send Cole into apoplexy?
Who knew that Cole instantly begins to fret if I let him open the door in the freezer section of SuperTarget but do not let him close the door as well?
Who knew that attempting to take Cole's hat off or remove his shoes if he isn't ready (whatever that means on any given day) could send him skyrocketing into orbit?
Who knew that dropping his red car into the snow was a cardinal sin (prompting a screech high on the octave meter) but dropping the same red car into a muddy puddle elicits no reaction at all?
Who knew that my son could be so fascinated with trucks that it is his first word upon waking and his last word before snuggling in for the night (along with the 479 other times during the day that the word is uttered)?
Who knew that my two year old could be more entertaining than any comedian just by babbling away in toddler speak whilst putting his daddy's boots on backwards on opposing feet with his hat askew and flashing his million dollar smile?
Who knew that I could still experience pure joy as a jaded adult just by watching my little boy's life from the sidelines?
Who knew that Cole instantly begins to fret if I let him open the door in the freezer section of SuperTarget but do not let him close the door as well?
Who knew that attempting to take Cole's hat off or remove his shoes if he isn't ready (whatever that means on any given day) could send him skyrocketing into orbit?
Who knew that dropping his red car into the snow was a cardinal sin (prompting a screech high on the octave meter) but dropping the same red car into a muddy puddle elicits no reaction at all?
Who knew that my son could be so fascinated with trucks that it is his first word upon waking and his last word before snuggling in for the night (along with the 479 other times during the day that the word is uttered)?
Who knew that my two year old could be more entertaining than any comedian just by babbling away in toddler speak whilst putting his daddy's boots on backwards on opposing feet with his hat askew and flashing his million dollar smile?
Who knew that I could still experience pure joy as a jaded adult just by watching my little boy's life from the sidelines?
Monday, December 8, 2008
Unspoken tasks...
Fill every pocket of every jacket with tissues b/c the day I don't will be the day Cole's nose runs like a faucet and I'm forced to use my own sleeve or hand.
Fill humidifier daily to keep Cole's room like the air in Florida; soak and scrub out mineral deposits for its 18 parts weekly.
Empty nursery trash when the stink becomes offensive which to this bloodhound mom means often (along with all the other trashcans in the house)
Change Cole's big boy bed sheets which are on a mattress on the floor in the corner which requires yoga flexibility to complete and wash along with numerous blankies and snotty monkey weekly (along with all other household bedding and towels)
Keep inventory and stock all Cole's toiletry essentials (this means diapers, wipes, Tylenol, Motrin, handi-wipes, toddler toothpaste, tissues, butt paste, eczema cream, bubble bath; this is in addition to all the general household toiltries including making sure there is toilet paper, paper towels, napkins where they need to be at all times.
Keep Cole's diaper bag filled with requisite supplies (besides most of the aforementioned essentials diaper bag musts also include change of clothes, bags for dirty whatever and toys/cars to distract during meltdowns)
Maintain stocked refrigerator with already prepared sippy cups full of water and milk (mixed white with chocolate of course) for when the prince beckons that he is thirsty! (this again saves those precious 30 seconds that it normally would take me to fill a cup from having to listen to the WHINE).
Maintain stocked pantry with favorite (and mostly healthy)snacks and meals. Since Cole confounds me by eating well one week and not the next, I am always balancing what I have in the cabinets (this is in addition to the general household grocery shopping). Thank goodness Costco carries organic products now!!
Prepare meals knowing what his likes and dislikes are for that day/week; know how toasted he likes his waffles/bagels; how warm he likes his mac and cheese; how much he prefers cream cheese over jam; his fondness for soft pretzels, fruit popsicles and scrambled eggs
Order and have on hand extra soft plastic lids for Cole's sippy cups (since he has become fond of poking holes in them or dabbing the cups upside down on any surface to get the liquid out as a form of entertainment). He currently refuses to drink out of a hard spouted cup.
Wipe down all surfaces of the house that seem to acquire handprints (let along paw prints) and spilled "whatever". This is an ongoing and frustrating task along with cleaning the rest of the house which constantly looks as if I haven't cleaned at all.
Vaccuum out the car seat, stroller, couch (in and under)and steam clean the carpet often. Need I say more about this?
Sweep and mop the tile and hardwood floors as necessary (aka ALL THE FREAKING TIME) as Cole (and Tucker) seem to leave a trail of fluids and sticky messes wherever they go which I then step in.
Store all necessary pediatric numbers/addresses, insurance group and policy numbers, social security numbers and appointment reminders using what I have left for a brain (as well as in my phone/wallet)
Reserve books from library weekly (so we have a stack all ready for us) because after perusing the shelves ourselves for 8 minutes and making a mess of their orderly system, Cole shifts into manic mode, his outdoor voice is frowned upon and we must make a hasty exit.
Arrange playdates, host playdates, sign up for _______ (art, music, tumble) classes, bundle up and venture out for a walk at the nature preserve, park, trails, find fun places to go (museum, rec center, seasonal specific fairs).
Organize Cole's clothes, label Cole's clothes, shoes, jackets, hats et al (per Montessori policy), wash Cole's clothes (including remembering what has stains), buy Cole's clothes, and find Cole's clothes (missing gloves, socks, shoes); ensure he has clothes to grow into since he gains an inch every other week it seems.
Clean up Cole's playroom and the rest of the house where toys migrate; search for missing puzzle pieces, car wheels, and blocks; tape book pages together; replace batteries; change up baskets of toys and books from room to room so that he finds "new" things all over again;
Be alert at all times, constantly monitoring his activities and location...knowing what kiddo is up to even when you can't see him. Knowing his weak spots to avoid public tantrums; knowing his likes and dislikes on all levels; realizing that fine window of time for getting him down for a nap; gauging his unpredictable mood to plan the day; letting Cole be Cole but with boundaries that makes us both relatively comfortable.
Be able to contort myself to reach the toy (truck) he drops from his car seat for the umpteenth time while driving 60mph to avoid the inevitable screeching that will ensue otherwise.
Be able to sing verses of any and all children's songs/lullabies and be willing to sing them anywhere and in front of anyone to avoid nuclear reactions as for Cole, singing is an almost instant pacifier.
Be strong enough to discipline Cole in public for bad behavior to solidify that bad behavior isn't acceptable no matter our locale. This is one of the most difficult responsibilities.
Be able to read and reread Cole's favorite book (about TRUCKS of course) after the 50th, 100th, 250th time and still maintain a silly, positive voice!
Be able to just laugh once I get Cole into 3 layers of clothes, his snowpants, jacket, gloves, hat and snowboots only to have him take a crap with a smile on his face.
Fill humidifier daily to keep Cole's room like the air in Florida; soak and scrub out mineral deposits for its 18 parts weekly.
Empty nursery trash when the stink becomes offensive which to this bloodhound mom means often (along with all the other trashcans in the house)
Change Cole's big boy bed sheets which are on a mattress on the floor in the corner which requires yoga flexibility to complete and wash along with numerous blankies and snotty monkey weekly (along with all other household bedding and towels)
Keep inventory and stock all Cole's toiletry essentials (this means diapers, wipes, Tylenol, Motrin, handi-wipes, toddler toothpaste, tissues, butt paste, eczema cream, bubble bath; this is in addition to all the general household toiltries including making sure there is toilet paper, paper towels, napkins where they need to be at all times.
Keep Cole's diaper bag filled with requisite supplies (besides most of the aforementioned essentials diaper bag musts also include change of clothes, bags for dirty whatever and toys/cars to distract during meltdowns)
Maintain stocked refrigerator with already prepared sippy cups full of water and milk (mixed white with chocolate of course) for when the prince beckons that he is thirsty! (this again saves those precious 30 seconds that it normally would take me to fill a cup from having to listen to the WHINE).
Maintain stocked pantry with favorite (and mostly healthy)snacks and meals. Since Cole confounds me by eating well one week and not the next, I am always balancing what I have in the cabinets (this is in addition to the general household grocery shopping). Thank goodness Costco carries organic products now!!
Prepare meals knowing what his likes and dislikes are for that day/week; know how toasted he likes his waffles/bagels; how warm he likes his mac and cheese; how much he prefers cream cheese over jam; his fondness for soft pretzels, fruit popsicles and scrambled eggs
Order and have on hand extra soft plastic lids for Cole's sippy cups (since he has become fond of poking holes in them or dabbing the cups upside down on any surface to get the liquid out as a form of entertainment). He currently refuses to drink out of a hard spouted cup.
Wipe down all surfaces of the house that seem to acquire handprints (let along paw prints) and spilled "whatever". This is an ongoing and frustrating task along with cleaning the rest of the house which constantly looks as if I haven't cleaned at all.
Vaccuum out the car seat, stroller, couch (in and under)and steam clean the carpet often. Need I say more about this?
Sweep and mop the tile and hardwood floors as necessary (aka ALL THE FREAKING TIME) as Cole (and Tucker) seem to leave a trail of fluids and sticky messes wherever they go which I then step in.
Store all necessary pediatric numbers/addresses, insurance group and policy numbers, social security numbers and appointment reminders using what I have left for a brain (as well as in my phone/wallet)
Reserve books from library weekly (so we have a stack all ready for us) because after perusing the shelves ourselves for 8 minutes and making a mess of their orderly system, Cole shifts into manic mode, his outdoor voice is frowned upon and we must make a hasty exit.
Arrange playdates, host playdates, sign up for _______ (art, music, tumble) classes, bundle up and venture out for a walk at the nature preserve, park, trails, find fun places to go (museum, rec center, seasonal specific fairs).
Organize Cole's clothes, label Cole's clothes, shoes, jackets, hats et al (per Montessori policy), wash Cole's clothes (including remembering what has stains), buy Cole's clothes, and find Cole's clothes (missing gloves, socks, shoes); ensure he has clothes to grow into since he gains an inch every other week it seems.
Clean up Cole's playroom and the rest of the house where toys migrate; search for missing puzzle pieces, car wheels, and blocks; tape book pages together; replace batteries; change up baskets of toys and books from room to room so that he finds "new" things all over again;
Be alert at all times, constantly monitoring his activities and location...knowing what kiddo is up to even when you can't see him. Knowing his weak spots to avoid public tantrums; knowing his likes and dislikes on all levels; realizing that fine window of time for getting him down for a nap; gauging his unpredictable mood to plan the day; letting Cole be Cole but with boundaries that makes us both relatively comfortable.
Be able to contort myself to reach the toy (truck) he drops from his car seat for the umpteenth time while driving 60mph to avoid the inevitable screeching that will ensue otherwise.
Be able to sing verses of any and all children's songs/lullabies and be willing to sing them anywhere and in front of anyone to avoid nuclear reactions as for Cole, singing is an almost instant pacifier.
Be strong enough to discipline Cole in public for bad behavior to solidify that bad behavior isn't acceptable no matter our locale. This is one of the most difficult responsibilities.
Be able to read and reread Cole's favorite book (about TRUCKS of course) after the 50th, 100th, 250th time and still maintain a silly, positive voice!
Be able to just laugh once I get Cole into 3 layers of clothes, his snowpants, jacket, gloves, hat and snowboots only to have him take a crap with a smile on his face.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Though no one has ever dared to actually ask me the question posed below which is from Carolyn Hax's "Tell me About It" column in the Washington Post, when I read it I immediately felt the urge to post it here as validation (to whom, I guess myself mostly). But this is for any other eyes reading my BLOG who have felt the unstated pressure one feels to explain what one does as a stay at home mom.
Best friend has child: Her exhausted, busy, no time for self, no time for me, etc.
Me (no kids): Wow. Sorry. What'd you do today? Her: Park, play group ...
OK. I've done Internet searches, I've talked to parents. I don't get it. What do stay-at-home moms do all day? Please no lists of library, grocery store, dry cleaners ... I do all those things, too, and I don't do them EVERY DAY. I guess what I'm asking is: What is a typical day and why don't moms have time for a call or e-mail? I work and am away from home nine hours a day (plus a few late work events), I manage to get it all done. I'm feeling like the kid is an excuse to relax and enjoy - not a bad thing at all - but if so, why won't my friend tell me the truth? Is this a contest ("my life is so much harder than yours")? What's the deal? I've got friends with and with-out kids and all us child-free folks get the same story and have the same questions.
Answer:
Relax and enjoy. You're funny.
Or, you're lying about having friends with kids.
Or you're taking them at their word that they actually have kids, because you haven't personally been in the same room with them.
Internet searches?
I keep wavering between giving you a straight answer and giving my forehead some keyboard. To claim you want to understand, while in the same breath implying that the only logical conclusions are that your mom-friends are either lying or competing with you, is disingenuous indeed.
So, since it's validation you seem to want, the real answer is what you get. In list form. When you have young kids, your typical day is: constant attention, from getting them out of bed, fed, clean, dressed; to keeping them out of harm's way; to answering their coos, cries, questions; to having two arms and carrying one kid, one set of car keys, and supplies for even the quickest trips, including the latest-to-be-declared-essential piece of molded plastic gear; to keeping them from unshelving books at the library; to enforcing rest times; to staying one step ahead of them lest they get too hungry, tired or bored, any one of which produces the kind of checkout-line screaming that gets the checkout line shaking its head.
It's needing 45 minutes to do what takes others 15.
It's constant vigilance, constant touch, constant use of your voice, constant relegation of your needs to the second tier.
It's constant scrutiny and second-guessing from family and friends, well meaning and otherwise. It's resisting constant temptation to seek short term relief at everyone's long term expense.
It's doing all this while concurrently teaching virtually everything - language, manners, safety, resourcefulness, discipline, curiosity, creativity. Empathy.
Everything.
It's also a choice, yes. And a joy. But if you spent all day, every day, with this brand of joy, and then, when you got your first 10 minutes to yourself, wanted to be alone with your thoughts instead of calling a good friend, a good friend wouldn't judge you, complain about you to mutual friends, or marvel how much more productively she uses her time. Either make a sincere effort to understand, or keep your snit to yourself.
Best friend has child: Her exhausted, busy, no time for self, no time for me, etc.
Me (no kids): Wow. Sorry. What'd you do today? Her: Park, play group ...
OK. I've done Internet searches, I've talked to parents. I don't get it. What do stay-at-home moms do all day? Please no lists of library, grocery store, dry cleaners ... I do all those things, too, and I don't do them EVERY DAY. I guess what I'm asking is: What is a typical day and why don't moms have time for a call or e-mail? I work and am away from home nine hours a day (plus a few late work events), I manage to get it all done. I'm feeling like the kid is an excuse to relax and enjoy - not a bad thing at all - but if so, why won't my friend tell me the truth? Is this a contest ("my life is so much harder than yours")? What's the deal? I've got friends with and with-out kids and all us child-free folks get the same story and have the same questions.
Answer:
Relax and enjoy. You're funny.
Or, you're lying about having friends with kids.
Or you're taking them at their word that they actually have kids, because you haven't personally been in the same room with them.
Internet searches?
I keep wavering between giving you a straight answer and giving my forehead some keyboard. To claim you want to understand, while in the same breath implying that the only logical conclusions are that your mom-friends are either lying or competing with you, is disingenuous indeed.
So, since it's validation you seem to want, the real answer is what you get. In list form. When you have young kids, your typical day is: constant attention, from getting them out of bed, fed, clean, dressed; to keeping them out of harm's way; to answering their coos, cries, questions; to having two arms and carrying one kid, one set of car keys, and supplies for even the quickest trips, including the latest-to-be-declared-essential piece of molded plastic gear; to keeping them from unshelving books at the library; to enforcing rest times; to staying one step ahead of them lest they get too hungry, tired or bored, any one of which produces the kind of checkout-line screaming that gets the checkout line shaking its head.
It's needing 45 minutes to do what takes others 15.
It's constant vigilance, constant touch, constant use of your voice, constant relegation of your needs to the second tier.
It's constant scrutiny and second-guessing from family and friends, well meaning and otherwise. It's resisting constant temptation to seek short term relief at everyone's long term expense.
It's doing all this while concurrently teaching virtually everything - language, manners, safety, resourcefulness, discipline, curiosity, creativity. Empathy.
Everything.
It's also a choice, yes. And a joy. But if you spent all day, every day, with this brand of joy, and then, when you got your first 10 minutes to yourself, wanted to be alone with your thoughts instead of calling a good friend, a good friend wouldn't judge you, complain about you to mutual friends, or marvel how much more productively she uses her time. Either make a sincere effort to understand, or keep your snit to yourself.
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