Yom Kippur was Saturday. Friday, Jonah was off school, and instead of being ActivityMom and being organized about our day, I decided to go free-form and not plan anything to do with Jonah (other than baking a honey cake to take to my in-laws). I soon realized my error. Jonah stayed in his pajamas until 11, despite several attempts to get him to change. He was confined to his room about 5 different times. And my anger grew and grew. When I found myself dragging him down the hall to go to the bathroom (another point of contention), I realized that his frozen smile was what was getting me so mad. It was fear, his fear of me, fixing that smile in place, and I was getting more and more angry at him in the hopes of making that smile disappear.
In a moment I realized the work that is cut out for me for the coming year: Send that anger packing, back up my family tree where it came from. This isn't something optional, and it's not something I am prepared to fail at. God must know that I'm serious, because it looks like He has given me another chance. The terrible notion of having my beloved firstborn fear me is hopefully enough to keep me motivated. Jonah will be off school for ten days, starting later on this week. Tomorrow is my last day of "freedom" for a while. Abe's sitter is coming. I'll get out on my bike, have lunch somewhere, read a book, and try to regroup in preparation for Camp Mama Redux.
Abe is seven months, and starting to get into solid food at last. HE is solid, feeling heavier literally every time I lift him up after a feeding. But his sleep has gone to crap. I am hoping a tooth on the way is what's causing this, because the idea that his wonderful sleep habits have evaporated, rather than gone on temporary hiatus, is something I'm not prepared to accept! This afternoon we have music class again. I can't wait to see him bounce as he plays the huge drum, smile while we dance, and take in this activity which is 100% for and about him.
Monday, September 20, 2010
Monday, September 13, 2010
ActivityMom
All it took was for September to hit. Now I am officially, irrevocably tied to the kids' schedules. Yes, even Abey has one, now that he's taking a class. His first Music Together session was today, at just shy of 7 months. He was pretty sleepy before we got there, but his wide eyes grew even wider when he saw what was waiting for him: enormous drums to bang on (I sat him in front of one and he went at it full tilt), songs, dancing, and OTHER BABIES! Poor kid, I had no idea how starved he was for a peer group. The baby who sat closest to us looked like someone had stuffed a dumpling into infant-sized skinny jeans (why? WHY???). Abe was looking everywhere and loving every moment. He even forgot to nurse the entire time!
Jonah came out of school today eager to tell me all about it. But wait! After a marathon day at school, I dragged him to a trial of a class called "Sing, Dance, and Make Believe." And he loved it. And he could tell me the names of the boys in the class, because there were a grand total of three. I went ahead and registered him anyway - how is he to know that boys aren't supposed to sing and dance? I hope he never figures that one out.
I'm starting to hear more and more about school lately, and starting to suspect not all of it is invented out of whole cloth. The class started studying the story of Jonah today (in time for Yom Kippur). I was reminded of the Yom Kippur before Jonah was born, when I, ignorant of what kind of baby I'd have, read the story of Jonah in the afternoon and somewhere deep in my unconscious mind decided that I'd be having a boy. And what a boy - a sweet, headstrong, impossible, irrepressible boy.
I had another flare-up of anger at Jonah over the weekend, enough to remind me that of all times of year, this is the one to really take stock of what I'm doing and how I'm doing it, and to make necessary changes, instead of resting on the excuses that circumstance provides at any given moment. Jonah deserves better.
Jonah came out of school today eager to tell me all about it. But wait! After a marathon day at school, I dragged him to a trial of a class called "Sing, Dance, and Make Believe." And he loved it. And he could tell me the names of the boys in the class, because there were a grand total of three. I went ahead and registered him anyway - how is he to know that boys aren't supposed to sing and dance? I hope he never figures that one out.
I'm starting to hear more and more about school lately, and starting to suspect not all of it is invented out of whole cloth. The class started studying the story of Jonah today (in time for Yom Kippur). I was reminded of the Yom Kippur before Jonah was born, when I, ignorant of what kind of baby I'd have, read the story of Jonah in the afternoon and somewhere deep in my unconscious mind decided that I'd be having a boy. And what a boy - a sweet, headstrong, impossible, irrepressible boy.
I had another flare-up of anger at Jonah over the weekend, enough to remind me that of all times of year, this is the one to really take stock of what I'm doing and how I'm doing it, and to make necessary changes, instead of resting on the excuses that circumstance provides at any given moment. Jonah deserves better.
Monday, September 6, 2010
An epistolary moment
Dear Abe,
You are six and a half months old. Pushing seven, let's say. I have seen it as my job to feed you on demand. But it is time to renegotiate what demand really means, adorable fellow. There is no possible way that you need to be feeding as often if not more often than a newborn - or are you plotting some growth spurt the likes of which we have never before seen? You've already got a couple pounds on your brother at this age, you are SOLID, and you are solidly into 9 month clothes.
Tonight I let you cry a little when I detached you from the boob and put you back in your crib. Then I went back, rinsed, lathered, repeated, and still you cried. What gives? You sobbed and screamed and roared the whole time Daddy was with you (now I begin to understand why the sitter was so rattled while trying to put you down for a nap last week), and when I came back you nursed desperately, exhausted from your exertion, then conked out flat on your back, arms above your head in a pose of surrender. I came out of the room and realized that I can't really keep doing this. It's time for some training to come your way, much as we hate to ponder it, much as it seems logistically impossible, since you sleep in our room and since your brother needs to try to get some sleep in his. We let Jonah go until a year before we sleep trained - while I increasingly lost my mind every time he peeped in the night. I still remember stalking out of the apartment on a freezing night before his first birthday, sitting on a bench in a dark plaza, wondering when my lost mind would return. The training took all of three nights.
Abe, can we admit this? You don't need the midnight snack anymore. You don't need the 3 a.m. top-up or the 5 a.m. happy meal. What you need, my little friend of the long eyelashes, is solid food (yes, I have noticed the face you make when we give it to you - we'll work with you until we find out what you like), and uninterrupted sleep. What I need is the very same (perhaps even the same portion sizes of the solid food, and the same amount of uninterrupted sleep).
To sum up: Things are going to suck. But ultimately they will get better. For all of us.
Love,
Mama
Dear Jonah,
Are you about to learn to read?!?!?! I am dumbfounded by your very sudden and obsessive interest in not just letters and words (which has been with you for ages) but sounds and spelling and figuring things out. I have been anticipating this magic moment since you were born, and the idea that it might not be far off (thanks to your amazing new teacher at school) fills me with indescribable joy. As I told Daddy tonight, "Once you can read, they can't keep secrets from you."
On the other hand, once you can read, you'll have to choose to read with us rather than on your own. I hope you'll keep reading with us. I can't wait to read Alice in Wonderland with you, a page each, every night, like I did with my dad when I was a kid. I can't wait to take you to the library and have you choose books because you like not just their pictures, but their contents. I can't wait for you to type your first email to Saba and Savta. Your budding literacy is blowing my mind. Please don't let kids at school with behavior problems distract you from this incredible achievement. And please don't let the humorless & borderline mean assistant teacher who is back this year get you down.
Love,
Mama
Dear Boys,
Keep making each other shriek with laughter please. This is the best stuff. I hope it continues forever.
You are six and a half months old. Pushing seven, let's say. I have seen it as my job to feed you on demand. But it is time to renegotiate what demand really means, adorable fellow. There is no possible way that you need to be feeding as often if not more often than a newborn - or are you plotting some growth spurt the likes of which we have never before seen? You've already got a couple pounds on your brother at this age, you are SOLID, and you are solidly into 9 month clothes.
Tonight I let you cry a little when I detached you from the boob and put you back in your crib. Then I went back, rinsed, lathered, repeated, and still you cried. What gives? You sobbed and screamed and roared the whole time Daddy was with you (now I begin to understand why the sitter was so rattled while trying to put you down for a nap last week), and when I came back you nursed desperately, exhausted from your exertion, then conked out flat on your back, arms above your head in a pose of surrender. I came out of the room and realized that I can't really keep doing this. It's time for some training to come your way, much as we hate to ponder it, much as it seems logistically impossible, since you sleep in our room and since your brother needs to try to get some sleep in his. We let Jonah go until a year before we sleep trained - while I increasingly lost my mind every time he peeped in the night. I still remember stalking out of the apartment on a freezing night before his first birthday, sitting on a bench in a dark plaza, wondering when my lost mind would return. The training took all of three nights.
Abe, can we admit this? You don't need the midnight snack anymore. You don't need the 3 a.m. top-up or the 5 a.m. happy meal. What you need, my little friend of the long eyelashes, is solid food (yes, I have noticed the face you make when we give it to you - we'll work with you until we find out what you like), and uninterrupted sleep. What I need is the very same (perhaps even the same portion sizes of the solid food, and the same amount of uninterrupted sleep).
To sum up: Things are going to suck. But ultimately they will get better. For all of us.
Love,
Mama
Dear Jonah,
Are you about to learn to read?!?!?! I am dumbfounded by your very sudden and obsessive interest in not just letters and words (which has been with you for ages) but sounds and spelling and figuring things out. I have been anticipating this magic moment since you were born, and the idea that it might not be far off (thanks to your amazing new teacher at school) fills me with indescribable joy. As I told Daddy tonight, "Once you can read, they can't keep secrets from you."
On the other hand, once you can read, you'll have to choose to read with us rather than on your own. I hope you'll keep reading with us. I can't wait to read Alice in Wonderland with you, a page each, every night, like I did with my dad when I was a kid. I can't wait to take you to the library and have you choose books because you like not just their pictures, but their contents. I can't wait for you to type your first email to Saba and Savta. Your budding literacy is blowing my mind. Please don't let kids at school with behavior problems distract you from this incredible achievement. And please don't let the humorless & borderline mean assistant teacher who is back this year get you down.
Love,
Mama
Dear Boys,
Keep making each other shriek with laughter please. This is the best stuff. I hope it continues forever.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)