Dear, sweet, nap-deprived-due-to-his-brother Abe is nine months old tomorrow. Or as Jonah might like to say, 3/4 years old. And the checkup today showed him gaining weight and inches right on target. And the doctor said he was cute. Does she say that to all the babies? Maybe all the nine month olds?
Nine months is quite the age. I had previously thought six months to be the bee's knees, since that's when sitting up unassisted happens. No, nine months, with its locomotion (emphasis on the loco), long strings of babble, and discovery of FOOD! and DRINK! is really where it's at. We met a boy on the playground today who's the same age as Abe, and even though they look nothing alike, they both have these huge, liquid eyes that you could simply drown in. I could probably spend an entire morning gazing at Abe, kissing his soft cheeks, cooing, examining what food is currently plastered behind his ears, etc.
Except I've been treating my nine month old like a newborn, and that needs to stop. Today at the playground I actually PUT HIM DOWN ON THE GROUND to let him explore. I had never done that before. What the hell is wrong with me?! And now it's soon winter, so it will be too cold for him to do that much longer. But Jonah was a winter baby and somehow learned to walk (except that come spring, he had trouble walking on grass).
Jonah is the best big brother. I could never have imagined such tenderness and love between my two boys. They actually have fun together. Maybe it's the improved sleep, but I am feeling pretty grateful these days. I have two adorable boys, a loving husband who hasn't given up on me yet (six years of marriage next Sunday!), and a plan for what to make for dinner tomorrow.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Saturday, November 13, 2010
It gets better
Maybe I shouldn't be appropriating that phrase (or maybe I should, lest it come to mean only one thing?), because this has nothing to do with coming out as a gay person. This has to do with coming out from under what felt like months (in reality maybe 2.5 weeks?) of very early wakeups from Jonah. 5:45 was starting to seem almost reasonable. 4:15 was starting to become too familiar. The constant was a loud, angry reaction to us telling him it was too early to be awake, and an ensuing wakeup from Abe because of the noise. I typically cursed Jonah silently from my bed and sent more level-headed Josh to hang out with him. We racked our brains trying to figure out the source: Going to bed too early? Too late? Eating too much or not enough? Night light angst? Bad dreams?
Last Wednesday, when he rose for the day at 4:15, I called his teacher at 8:15 to tell her he would not be coming to school that day. Embarrassingly, I broke down on the phone while speaking to her. And then, a half hour later, showed up to drop Jonah off to school. I'm not sure what I was thinking, threatening him with not going to school. He didn't really seem to care, he was so zonked. I thought maybe I could take him to the pediatrician, but when I called the office I just didn't have the nerve to say I needed him seen due to lack of sleep. Instead I left a message for a call back. And flipped through Ferber, anxious to find the missing chapter that would explain what was happening here. And couldn't nap myself, because I was on pins and needles, wondering when I'd get the call saying that Jonah needed picking up.
But somehow, he made it through the day. He was up from 4:15 a.m. to 7:30 p.m., without a nap. He was well-behaved at school. He was just really fucking sleepy.
The pediatrician called me that night. The one I tend to not like as much, being that she is rather gruff. I laid out the situation for her (she in disbelief that Jonah goes to school from 9-3, 5 days a week, like I was torturing him or something), and she said without hesitation, "He misses you. He's trying to get back some of the time with you that the baby gets now." Funny, my own mother said something along those lines when she visited a month ago. And I dissed her for it. Hearing it from someone other than my mother, I was more inclined to listen - just as when I struck out on my own in my early 20s and saw a dentist that had not been taking care of my teeth since I was 4, and he told me it was important to floss, I listened, and have flossed ever since. (For the record, the kinder, gentler pediatrician called back the next morning. She only wanted to talk Ferber, Ferber, Ferber. Go figure.)
Wednesday night I gave Jonah a bath (something I stopped doing when pregnancy made it too uncomfortable, and have continued not doing due to laziness). I read to him before bed. When he woke up at midnight, I took him back to bed and read to him again until he fell asleep. He woke at 5:45 and I got up with him. Thursday night, the same routine, no wakeup at midnight. I was up from 5 a.m. waiting to hear him, and he didn't wake up until 6:40. Same thing last night. I am so hopeful we have broken this bad cycle - stolen the seat, trashed the spokes, shredded the tires.
By way of showing me what is to be reaped when I sow extra time-seeds with my primogenito, Jonah did two amazing things today: drew the first stick figure we've seen him draw, on a birthday card for a friend (because it was a girl, he dispensed with his usual rollercoaster/train/truck mashup, and drew a princess for her), and even signed his name, after a fashion. Tonight, he sat at the computer for his usual post-dinner complement of Sesame Street clips on YouTube, then howled when I turned off the monitor, because he'd wanted to do some typing. I opened the multipage document we've been saving his typing to since he first started at the keyboard (age 2.5), expecting another long stream of binary or machine language. Instead, he wanted to spell words. He started with his first name, then his last name, then the name of a friend, then Abe, and finally (with assistance for the "au"), dinosaur. He sounded out the letters, located them on the keyboard, typed them. He can't quite read, but can type? It's blowing my mind.
Abe, not to be outdone, is cutting his two front top teeth at the same time. So Ferber is out the window lately.
Last Wednesday, when he rose for the day at 4:15, I called his teacher at 8:15 to tell her he would not be coming to school that day. Embarrassingly, I broke down on the phone while speaking to her. And then, a half hour later, showed up to drop Jonah off to school. I'm not sure what I was thinking, threatening him with not going to school. He didn't really seem to care, he was so zonked. I thought maybe I could take him to the pediatrician, but when I called the office I just didn't have the nerve to say I needed him seen due to lack of sleep. Instead I left a message for a call back. And flipped through Ferber, anxious to find the missing chapter that would explain what was happening here. And couldn't nap myself, because I was on pins and needles, wondering when I'd get the call saying that Jonah needed picking up.
But somehow, he made it through the day. He was up from 4:15 a.m. to 7:30 p.m., without a nap. He was well-behaved at school. He was just really fucking sleepy.
The pediatrician called me that night. The one I tend to not like as much, being that she is rather gruff. I laid out the situation for her (she in disbelief that Jonah goes to school from 9-3, 5 days a week, like I was torturing him or something), and she said without hesitation, "He misses you. He's trying to get back some of the time with you that the baby gets now." Funny, my own mother said something along those lines when she visited a month ago. And I dissed her for it. Hearing it from someone other than my mother, I was more inclined to listen - just as when I struck out on my own in my early 20s and saw a dentist that had not been taking care of my teeth since I was 4, and he told me it was important to floss, I listened, and have flossed ever since. (For the record, the kinder, gentler pediatrician called back the next morning. She only wanted to talk Ferber, Ferber, Ferber. Go figure.)
Wednesday night I gave Jonah a bath (something I stopped doing when pregnancy made it too uncomfortable, and have continued not doing due to laziness). I read to him before bed. When he woke up at midnight, I took him back to bed and read to him again until he fell asleep. He woke at 5:45 and I got up with him. Thursday night, the same routine, no wakeup at midnight. I was up from 5 a.m. waiting to hear him, and he didn't wake up until 6:40. Same thing last night. I am so hopeful we have broken this bad cycle - stolen the seat, trashed the spokes, shredded the tires.
By way of showing me what is to be reaped when I sow extra time-seeds with my primogenito, Jonah did two amazing things today: drew the first stick figure we've seen him draw, on a birthday card for a friend (because it was a girl, he dispensed with his usual rollercoaster/train/truck mashup, and drew a princess for her), and even signed his name, after a fashion. Tonight, he sat at the computer for his usual post-dinner complement of Sesame Street clips on YouTube, then howled when I turned off the monitor, because he'd wanted to do some typing. I opened the multipage document we've been saving his typing to since he first started at the keyboard (age 2.5), expecting another long stream of binary or machine language. Instead, he wanted to spell words. He started with his first name, then his last name, then the name of a friend, then Abe, and finally (with assistance for the "au"), dinosaur. He sounded out the letters, located them on the keyboard, typed them. He can't quite read, but can type? It's blowing my mind.
Abe, not to be outdone, is cutting his two front top teeth at the same time. So Ferber is out the window lately.
Friday, November 5, 2010
Warming trend
The sun has broken through!
Jonah up at 5:40 today, saying Abe woke him up (well, he was crying, that is true). But strangely, it was a good morning. I tried to get Jonah to sleep more in my bed, and while the snuggle was welcome, he couldn't stop looking out the window. I released him to join Daddy and Abe. When I stumbled in at 7:15, I found a placid scene. Later, Jonah even dressed himself without my needing to be in the room. He was so proud when he came out, fully dressed, with only his shirt on backwards.
Yesterday at school he earned all four stickers on his rest time sticker chart, making me very proud of him indeed. I am starting to believe rest time makes him anxious, though, and it turns out about 80% of the class isn't actually resting, so I hope the teachers are going to make a change to the routine soon.
I'm sure that his name being called at the end of rest time is all he can think about, on his folding cot, in that penumbral classroom. I wish I could magically insinuate myself into the room, enfold him in my arms, and let him surrender to his exhaustion. But then, who am I kidding? I couldn't do that this morning, when it was actually me there, in bed, trying to get him to sleep. No, he is going to have to ride this one out himself.
Jonah up at 5:40 today, saying Abe woke him up (well, he was crying, that is true). But strangely, it was a good morning. I tried to get Jonah to sleep more in my bed, and while the snuggle was welcome, he couldn't stop looking out the window. I released him to join Daddy and Abe. When I stumbled in at 7:15, I found a placid scene. Later, Jonah even dressed himself without my needing to be in the room. He was so proud when he came out, fully dressed, with only his shirt on backwards.
Yesterday at school he earned all four stickers on his rest time sticker chart, making me very proud of him indeed. I am starting to believe rest time makes him anxious, though, and it turns out about 80% of the class isn't actually resting, so I hope the teachers are going to make a change to the routine soon.
I'm sure that his name being called at the end of rest time is all he can think about, on his folding cot, in that penumbral classroom. I wish I could magically insinuate myself into the room, enfold him in my arms, and let him surrender to his exhaustion. But then, who am I kidding? I couldn't do that this morning, when it was actually me there, in bed, trying to get him to sleep. No, he is going to have to ride this one out himself.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Dispatch
Abe now says, "Mama." And he seemed to understand that we were seeing real animals at the zoo today which are the same ones he sees in his picture book at night.
At the nearly-deserted barn, the cow mooed suddenly, loudly, scaring the crap out of us. Jonah bolted, yelling, "We've got to get out of here!!!!"
So, what about this? I try to go for one day without being the cause (or one of the causes) of my son's misery. It seems so simple. Tomorrow, at school, his teachers are going to work together to try to figure out why he can't rest during rest time. Ummm, because he's afraid Mama hates him? I hope that's not it. Tonight I asked him why he thought he could not just rest, and he said, "Because I don't know how long I have to rest before the teacher says, 'It's time to get your shoes on. Rest time is over.' "
At the nearly-deserted barn, the cow mooed suddenly, loudly, scaring the crap out of us. Jonah bolted, yelling, "We've got to get out of here!!!!"
So, what about this? I try to go for one day without being the cause (or one of the causes) of my son's misery. It seems so simple. Tomorrow, at school, his teachers are going to work together to try to figure out why he can't rest during rest time. Ummm, because he's afraid Mama hates him? I hope that's not it. Tonight I asked him why he thought he could not just rest, and he said, "Because I don't know how long I have to rest before the teacher says, 'It's time to get your shoes on. Rest time is over.' "
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