Oliver, is that you?
Yesterday, while Doug was out for a long run, I was playing with Oliver on the playmat in the living room. I had to go to the bathroom, so I put O down in the middle of his room with a few toys. If you've ever been to our house, you know that the bathroom is on the other side of the apartment from the living room, so it's understandable that I couldn't leave him there. His bedroom is directly next to the bathroom, so a perfect choice...for a non-crawler.
No sooner had I settled myself down on the toilet when I hear the "slap...slap...slap...slap" of my son's hands on the floor. "Oh no," I think, and sure enough - his mischievious smile appears around the door frame. I wasn't completely finished yet.
Every parent has a moment, it seems, when they have to make a similar decision to the one I was about to make. Maybe your hands are full of ice cream and your son is about to fall on his bottom. Do you drop the ice cream and make a mess so that your son can fall safely? Or do you hold onto the ice cream and let your son learn about falling?
I decided to let him learn about falling. In a way.
I just kind of gave up, sat back and handed him the empty toilet paper roll.
Doug says, "Trauma City." I say, "...Eh."
Other things that the world will be talking about this week:
I dropped him off today and felt...well, a little unsettled. I know that Miss Ruth and Miss Antoinette will take care of him as if he were their own - they're very motherly in those classes. I know that if they had any questions about his care, all they have to do is shout over to the other side of the room. For a few minutes after I left daycare, I wasn't exactly sure why I felt so weird about it all. I called Doug. "Sounds like you are sad he's reached the next developmental stage, Mama." He said. "He's growing up." And yep, I think that's it! Every time I catch myself missing Oliver when he was a baby, I remember how difficult that time was and how I couldn't wait for him to grow up a little more - when he was a newbie, I couldn't wait for him to hold up his head on his own and sleep a little more. When he was holding up his head I wanted him to stop frigging crying about tummy time. Now, he's kind of perfect. He's still nursing, but also knows how to eat from a spoon and chew teensy things. He's crawling and pulling himself up, but not getting into too much trouble. He's laughing, clapping, engaging...he's ticklish and adorable. So taking him to the other side of the bookshelf was, in essence, accepting that my little boy is growing up. Soon he'll be walking, talking, running, shouting...and complaining about how I'm so judgemental and naggy. I mean, it's only a matter of time. Oh GAG.
Yet another one of God's reminders to focus on the here and now. He's healthy and growing! Isn't that enough?!?
It is. Smooch to all of you.
No sooner had I settled myself down on the toilet when I hear the "slap...slap...slap...slap" of my son's hands on the floor. "Oh no," I think, and sure enough - his mischievious smile appears around the door frame. I wasn't completely finished yet.
Every parent has a moment, it seems, when they have to make a similar decision to the one I was about to make. Maybe your hands are full of ice cream and your son is about to fall on his bottom. Do you drop the ice cream and make a mess so that your son can fall safely? Or do you hold onto the ice cream and let your son learn about falling?
I decided to let him learn about falling. In a way.
I just kind of gave up, sat back and handed him the empty toilet paper roll.
Doug says, "Trauma City." I say, "...Eh."
Other things that the world will be talking about this week:
- Oliver has started clapping! Not all the time and not on demand - almost like he reinvents it each time, actually. But he's doing it and he's fabulous at it.
- He's also smacking his lips. Which completely throws me for a loop and breaks my womb in half it's so cute.
- For my birthday Doug gave me a book on baby sign language. So far, Doug and I have learned the signs to: cereal, juice, hungry, sleep, change, diaper, mommy, daddy, more, finished (all done), no, yes, play and bath. O is overwhelmed.
I dropped him off today and felt...well, a little unsettled. I know that Miss Ruth and Miss Antoinette will take care of him as if he were their own - they're very motherly in those classes. I know that if they had any questions about his care, all they have to do is shout over to the other side of the room. For a few minutes after I left daycare, I wasn't exactly sure why I felt so weird about it all. I called Doug. "Sounds like you are sad he's reached the next developmental stage, Mama." He said. "He's growing up." And yep, I think that's it! Every time I catch myself missing Oliver when he was a baby, I remember how difficult that time was and how I couldn't wait for him to grow up a little more - when he was a newbie, I couldn't wait for him to hold up his head on his own and sleep a little more. When he was holding up his head I wanted him to stop frigging crying about tummy time. Now, he's kind of perfect. He's still nursing, but also knows how to eat from a spoon and chew teensy things. He's crawling and pulling himself up, but not getting into too much trouble. He's laughing, clapping, engaging...he's ticklish and adorable. So taking him to the other side of the bookshelf was, in essence, accepting that my little boy is growing up. Soon he'll be walking, talking, running, shouting...and complaining about how I'm so judgemental and naggy. I mean, it's only a matter of time. Oh GAG.
Yet another one of God's reminders to focus on the here and now. He's healthy and growing! Isn't that enough?!?
It is. Smooch to all of you.
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