I need to stop declaring myself because I think it prompts me to do the exact opposite. "I'm on Atkins" drives me towards the nearest bowl of cereal. I've got to figure out what's gonna work for me. That or get some adult ADD medicine so I can actually stick to whatever I decide to do!
I was leaning over the tub to circulate the bubbles for my kids when my son said. "Mommy your butt is huge. Like really really really really big. Like (spreads out hands as far as he can) this big! Do you need to go potty?" I replied, "Well your daddy likes it that way" knowing full well that this would be later questioned at the dinner table. Later that night, "Daddy, why do you like mommy's butt?" (snort). I of course broke into Sir Mix A Lots famous diddy immediately.
But still, it's getting a little too large and in charge. I know this because son had his first day of preschool and I had to sit in those teeny tiny preschool chairs while I learned about snack days, holiday parties and the extra accident clothes we need to bring.
We are so excited for preschool! I felt like a real mom when I signed up to host the Valentines party and put my name down on the Field Trip list. The preschool teachers were wonderful, and I loved that they said "A child will get bitten, punched and otherwise knocked down. It's normal." and then explained how they would handle it. The class has 11 boys and 6 girls so you know all the MOB members (mothers of boys) were sweating it out wondering if their child would throw the first punch.
When I signed son up for preschool the teacher asked if I needed to cry. "With joy?" I asked, thinking of the glorious 2 hours, twice a week that I would be enjoying. Since that's daughter's nap time we may well be prostrate in the minivan at the nearby Starbucks parking lot. But how glorious to not have to listen to "Crash, bang, aaaaah!" for a few hours. Of course I was wrong, I did get weepy for the little guy. Preschool is the entryway to bonafide big kid land.
While I look forward to sparring with the soccer moms when he's 8, the realization that I will never get my fuzzy headed little man back is starting to sink in. He's all limbs, so long and lanky. I try to smoosh him up into a little ball when I cuddle him. He won't let me call him "My little teddy bear" or "Mama's baby guy" when we cuddle anymore so I have to whisper it softly. When he demands to know what I just said I cover with, "My big tough pirate" and "Mama's big, like super big, guy".
Sadly, the dentist apointment awaited son after preschool. He got two caps on his back teeth. They shine like a grill. He came out of the back room at the dentists (they don't allow parent's to come back with the child) looking like he had been in a prize fight with two swollen cheeks. I swear they give the kids a hit of the laughing gas before they bring them out because they all look teary eyed and stunned silent. The bad mommy moment whomped my stomach as I realized 3 1/2 year old son has now had 2 different sets of stitches and his back two teeth have rotted out.
Raising son has been a hard road. He had febrile seizures frequently for most of his second year of life. (We've watched the poor dude go through so many tests it's heartbreaking) As a result he has been pretty clumsy and often falls and hurts himself. He's also a boy daredevil so I'm forever tailing him with a bottle of bactine. Son was not a sleeper. He had acid reflux for the better part of his first year and would only sleep if one of us held him upright in a chair all night. I think the rough times have made us bond faster and cling to each other more. But they are also exhausting and part of me is looking forward to having some breathing time away from him. Time to let my shoulders drop and unclench.
Daughter has been guiltily easy. I've been warned that when she gets older it will be a barrage of "I hate you mom" and door slamming. But for now she is quiet and lovely. 1 year old daughter will grab a handful of tiny board books and walk her gunslinger walk over to the dog's bed. She'll plunk down by our dog and read books with her feet in the air for the longest time. She wants to cuddle and can actually lie still on my lap. She approaches tasks with thoughtfulness. On her first birthday she was unsure of how to touch the cold icecream cake so she nibbled it face first. The difference amazes me. But it also makes me realize how tense I have been since our son was born.
When I try to talk about how much easier daughter is with other moms I often get shut down. "Oh, well son is wonderful!". Of course he is. He is my first baby love, my world. He's also exhausting, expensive and very much work. But to say this outloud makes people uncomfortable. As if saying something is so much work I'm saying I love him less. Which of course couldn't be further from the joy he bring us.
I am looking forward to meeting some MOB members. My extended family has almost exclusively produced girl babies. Much to my husband's dismay son has been dressing in tutus since he was 1. So he is also glad for the male company preschool provides. One preschool mother yelled, "Yo, Julian put that tongue back in yer mouth!" I don't think she will become my BFF, but it's nice to hear someone else be on high alert too.
Lastly, husband came through for my birthday at last. He and the kids raided the dollar store for birthday tablecloths, candles and batman party horns. They set up the breakfast table with a cake and decorations and woke me up to celebrate. It was perfect. Sniff.