He's Two!

I'm not much of a party planner or thrower.  But after the year he's been through, Simon deserves a party, dangit.  I thought I'd keep it simple, a little pot luck picnic thing at the park.  I'd order sandwiches and got squirt guns, bubbles, and Frisbees.  Of course we got a late start.  Our morning consisted of Skyping with Grandma and Grandpa, eating cinnamon rolls while watching cartoons, and opening a present whenever he got really cranky. 

I went to pick up sandwiches but they were at a different HEB down the road.  It wasn't so horribly far, but at noon on a Saturday the traffic was pretty bad.  Blaine went to pick them up and got back just in time to see Simon dive into this pond thing at the park.  I was right behind Simon chasing after him but was pretty worn out from the heat and the hills and several trips to the car.  I screamed for help and fished him out but we were both pretty shaken up.  Between the sandwiches and party goods getting there late and us recovering from the incident, things dragged on a bit too long and he was cranky and ready for a nap.  The squirt guns didn't work.  I guess no one was interested in bubbles or Frisbees.  I ate a few bites of food while catching up with my sisters-in-law, helped him eat cake, opened presents and got him the heck home.  For supper we had KFC and he was beyond ready for bed again so no dessert. 

I love my boy dearly, but I reckon next year we'll keep it even more simple.  Here's hoping this year goes better and next May we can avoid the BWD.

Rain

Simon woke up wet calling for mama at 1:00 this morning as he is wont to do.  While daddy was changing his bed we went out to the dining room, opened the blinds, and looked at the rain.  There was even thunder and lighting.  Rain is sort of a rare occurrence and a thunderstorm even more so.  I got to explain the thunder and lighting to him.  We've already talked about how the rain gives the trees and grass a nice drink.  I love a thunderstorm an awful lot so it was a sweet thing to be able to stand in the dark holding my boy experiencing it.  Thanks for waking us up, Simon.

2

Two years ago I checked into the hospital.  Two years ago I had no idea what lay in store for me.  Two years ago I was knocked out by some pretty amazing drugs.  Two years ago I would have paid real money to get that kid's foot out of my ribcage!!!!!!!

One year ago my parents were about to come up to celebrate a first birthday.  I'm so glad we had that day of no worries so we could enjoy it.  We had no idea what was about to transpire.

This year we celebrate all that we have survived.  And we have survived.

Me*  (*artist's rendering)

So he's 2.

So, Simon is almost 2.  He's acting every bit of it.  He's starting to be a real handful.  He seems to fight us at every turn and kicks, bites, and I even think he hit another little girl the other day.  And you should see the fight he puts up over medicine.  I don't know what to do.   We don’t spank because I believe you can’t teach a kid to not hit by hitting them.  I try to comfort him when he starts to get upset.  I don’t yell (for the most part).  I try to distract him with other things.  His big punishment is time out which doesn’t go very well.

I’m starting to really feel like a parent now.  I second guess everything I do.  I know we were lax when he was in the hospital.  He could more or less watch whatever he wanted and eat whatever he’d swallow.  I try not to let him watch too much tv and give in to him all the time.  But it’s a hard habit to break.  I wonder if he’s in pain from teething.  I wonder if he’s turning into a bully.  I wonder if I’m too soft.  Whether or not I am, I’m not going to start spanking.  I wonder if he’s just a normal 2 year old kid.  I’ve been in tears several times this week because I feel like I’m failing him.  I can’t comfort him. 

Being a mommy is hard.  I pray I’m doing a good job.

Potty

 

Simon used the potty tonight.  We had a fun afternoon/evening at Barnes & Noble and then Cheddars.  We indulged him in a cookie monster which he thought was pretty tasty.  He had lots of water which, if you know Simon, is par for the course.  The kid can drink.  And pee.  He pees through his diapers pretty regularly, especially when he's napping or sleeping.  So we brought him home after dinner and Daddy got the bath ready.  While we were waiting I got Simon's full diaper off and asked him if he'd want to sit on the potty.  Sure enough he did.  And he peed right away.  He peed a lot.  He almost filled up his potty.  We were both so proud of him.  Daddy didn't quite believe Simon filled the potty up as much as he did. 

No More Oatmeal Kisses

If this is me someday, please forgive me.

This made me cry like a little girl before I was a mom.  Now it's worse.  Not sure why I thought of it this morning, but I have to share. 

A young mother writes: “I know you’ve written before about the empty-nest syndrome, that lonely period after the children are grown and gone. Right now I’m up to my eyeballs in laundry and muddy boots. The baby is teething; the boys are fighting. My husband just called and said to eat without him, and I fell off my diet. Lay it on me again, will you?”

OK. One of these days, you’ll shout, “Why don’t you kids grow up and act your age!” And they will. Or, “You guys get outside and find yourselves something to do . . . and don’t slam the door!” And they won’t.

You’ll straighten up the boys’ bedroom neat and tidy: bumper stickers discarded, bedspread tucked and smooth, toys displayed on the shelves. Hangers in the closet. Animals caged. And you’ll say out loud, “Now I want it to stay this way.” And it will.

You’ll prepare a perfect dinner with a salad that hasn’t been picked to death and a cake with no finger traces in the icing, and you’ll say, “Now, there’s a meal for company.” And you’ll eat it alone.

You’ll say, “I want complete privacy on the phone. No dancing around. No demolition crews. Silence! Do you hear?” And you’ll have it.

No more plastic tablecloths stained with spaghetti. No more bedspreads to protect the sofa from damp bottoms. No more gates to stumble over at the top of the basement steps. No more clothespins under the sofa. No more playpens to arrange a room around.

No more anxious nights under a vaporizer tent. No more sand on the sheets or Popeye movies in the bathroom. No more iron-on patches, rubber bands for ponytails, tight boots or wet knotted shoestrings.

Imagine. A lipstick with a point on it. No baby-sitter for New Year’s Eve. Washing only once a week. Seeing a steak that isn’t ground. Having your teeth cleaned without a baby on your lap.
No PTA meetings. No car pools. No blaring radios. No one washing her hair at 11 o’clock at night. Having your own roll of Scotch tape.

Think about it. No more Christmas presents out of toothpicks and library paste. No more sloppy oatmeal kisses. No more tooth fairy. No giggles in the dark. No knees to heal, no responsibility.

Only a voice crying, “Why don’t you grow up?” and the silence echoing, “I did.”

Growing Up

Tonight was one of those nights where it's hit me that my boy is growing up.  When I come home from work it's usually a flurry of activity to get everyone fed (if they haven't already eaten), in the bath, and to bed.  The quiet time has been giving him his bottle which has been replaced with two or three minutes of rocking in recent weeks and months.  It's usually a time that is just him and me and I get quiet cuddles.  I get to whisper things that I wish for him with a fervent prayer in my heart that he can somehow grasp what I'm telling him.

Tonight, almost before we even sat in the rocking chair, he was motioning for his bed and boldly telling me "bye!"  I kept him on my lap by saying a prayer with him.  (If there's one thing the kid loves it's prayers.  He's always asking for "mo" prayers.  We blessed the food three times at dinner tonight.)  I squeezed him tight and choked back the tears as I laid him down in his bed.  I know he's still so little, but there are times when I feel my cuddly baby slip away a little bit.  Can I tell you a secret?  It kind of breaks my heart a little bit.