My Child is A Verb

I am letting the old monthly status go by the wayside, it feels a bit too contrived now, there’s so much to say and I’d rather say it creatively, not within the constraints of “weight, food, etc..” Blah.  

 

Taking our monthly photos is getting trickier by they day, Mr. Mobile has stuff to do!

Here goes...

William is a verb.  

An action verb, if precision is your thing.  

He is a string of words you can see in your mind’s eye with no assistance necessary.  He is the following, in no particular order...

crawling

climbing

drumming

smiling

smirking

grabbing

standing *

standing *

standing *

* Yes, i included standing 3 times for a reason. It's a pretty popular activity and he revels in the fact that he can do it by himself.  He's also taken to feeding himself, as in painting his face and body with whatever I put on his highchair tray.  Mr. Independent.  Definitely our kid! I'm not sure how much food he is actually ingesting, but he's learning a lot in the process, so we'll go with this baby-led approach!

My verb list is abbreviated for your reading pleasure, it could go on for days... and I think Will can too, especially given his obvious disdain for lengthy naps.  If I met a Genie in a bottle, this might change, but I fear this won't occur, so awake we will be.

 

                             Seriously, this face?!?

                      

So this kid loves to play, which is proof he’s definitely ours.  I would consider myself to be quite playful, just ask my former students, 2nd through 6th grades, they will tell you about my ability to play and tell foolish stories, run & dive fully clothed down slip 'n slides, jump off chairs, walk around barefoot, lead a camping excursion in a Caribbean rainforest, you name it.  These days at home, cooped up in the winter months, going just a tad stir crazy with cabin fever and lack of adult conversation, I have been thinking a lot about what play looks like for babies and toddlers.  My brain has gone haywire planning, planning, planning fun experiences with my little Nugget, also known as Monster Man (this is SO fitting), Bugaboo, the Nut, among a long list of accolades.  I have lost sleep  thinking about sensory tubs, small world play, puppet 
theaters, dramatic play... and, and....

Recently, prior to a routine doctor's appointment, we took an excursion to the dollar store and purchased interesting "kitcheny" things to add to a treasure chest of items to spark little man’s curiousty.  You can see some of the contents in the image below.  He is in love with a long handled wire whisk and drags it around the house.  He also loves jar lids and has figured out how to bang them off each other, the floor, his head... fun times keep a rollin' at our lil' hacienda.

Toys, ala the Dollar Store's kitchen section

When Monster Man isn't found snuggling up to his wire whisk, his favorite activities consist of mama climbing, finger gnawing, lip sucking, crib clambering, baby gate ascension, gorilla wrestling (of the large, stuffed, pretend variety), refusing to be fed ( "I've gotta do it myself!"), sock-removing, toe nibbling, teething... and the like.  There is never a dull moment in this little family of ours.  Sometimes I think I could be quite happy with a dull moment, but honestly I probably wouldn't know what to do with such a thing.  I would be considerably less drooly, but at this point, what's the fun in that anyway?

So I've learned some things over the past 8 months, if you were to ask a penny for my thoughts, you wouldn't need to pay me because it's just nice to have an adult conversation!  Here are some things I've come to realize since a little boy came along and changed my world in every possible way, making me happier (and more tired) than I ever could have imagined.  This is not an entirely serious list, I have written a mushy-gushy post or two in the past, this is not one of them. 

• Whoever coined the term "Don't cry over spilled milk" was NOT a nursing mother... spilling milk is totally a legit reason to cry!  I may have said this before, but it bears repeating!
• I may never see the day of drinking an entire cup of coffee in one sitting again for quite some time and yes, I sometimes mourn the loss.
• Regurgitated organic plain yogurt is the nastiest smelling stuff ever, and does not make good conditioner for your hair, at all.
• The songs that battery-operated toys are programmed with have the most uncanny ability to creep into your brain, like tiny splinters that are impossible to remove.  Occasionally we find ourselves singing them as we cook dinner and realize how far gone we really are!
• As long as laundry is washed and dried I'm winning this little game called life... because folding it is the absolute bottom of my priority list... that's what closets & hangers were invented for (although they are pretty neglected as well)
• Getting 2 puppies + caring for an infant (all while my husband is out of town all week)= insanity to the ultimate degree.  Thank goodness the puppies are relatively well behaved!
• Stringy mango pulp is really hard to get out of those darned mesh self feeders!
• I cherish the one morning a week that Kev takes Will so I can get an extra hour of sleep, I long for it like Christmas morning
• Friday night evenings in with my boys are better than any night out ever & hearing them laugh together is my favorite sound in the world.
• Notes written in bathtub crayons make me feel pretty special (especially since showers are a rare & highly prized occurrence!)
• Fevers of 103 are terrifying, even if your baby is smiling at you with a look that says "Why so serious mama?"
• Baby socks fall into some abyss in the washing machine, never to be seen again.
• Leaky middle of the night diapers are a pain in the buns (I would swear, but we're trying hard to eliminate profanity from our vocabularies because this boy is a sponge!)
• There is no such thing as loving a baby too much
• Changing a crawling baby's diaper should be an Olympic event, I always look up to see the tiniest full moon scooting away across the floor, hands slapping the floor in glee.  I laugh every time. 
• W has an affinity for the most dangerous items in the room, if we placed a heap of broken glass shards or razor wire on the floor, he would beat feet to get his chubby, dimpled little hands on it.
• This kid must be mine... he is constantly crashing into stuff, especially with his head, let's hope he finds a bit more grace over time than his mama did!
• Intuition is what I go on, since there is no handbook, I am trusting my gut at all times and it's not steering me wrong
• Being at home alone all week, day & night, can be surprisingly lonely at times, something I hadn't anticipated
• I was born to be a teacher, it took leaving for a while for me to fully understand how much a part of me it is... but for now I get to be a teacher to one very special little boy
• It's funny when people who don't have children give you unsolicited advice... and not funny ha-ha, funny I wanna slap you, but I smile and act appreciative because that's what being polite is.  
• Parenting is hard, amazing, miraculous, exhausting, gross (at times!) and so many adjectives I could fill an entire post with them alone
• Trying to keep W happy and content during an entire church service prior to and following his baptism was nearly impossible interesting!
• I am blessed!

  

I told him chicks dig boys who play guitars, so he's starting early :)  

 

Church is exhausting!

Playing at the church after my cat nap :)

  

 Hanging out with Grampy watching the big boys play at nana's, after my baptism

 Giving kisses to my reflection

 

                     It's okay mama, I got this, stairs~ no problem!                                  This Learning Table is one of his favorite toys ever!

I'm convinced they put cute little critters on the bums of pants because once babies start crawling, that's all you look at ALL day :)

 Snowshoe hike up a nearby mountain

 

                     Frozen hunks of mango= teething must-have                                                           Baby-Gate climbing pro!

 

July 10th, 2012, welcome to the world Will!

My how things have changed in the past 8 months!

Change of Scenery!

 

I am hopelessly indecisive, & truth be told I've been that way much of my life, from choosing what to eat or what to do with my day.  And I get bored easily... so I need to change things up from time to time, including this little blog of mine.  When I began writing it during my pregnancy "Carrying Baby Carriere" seemed a fitting title, but now our little babe is 8 months old and carrying him is becoming quite the workout.  I dabbled with renaming this blog "Pollywogs and Puddle Jumping" but it just seemed a bit too cutesy for me, as much as I love both fat, little comma shaped pollywogs and jumping into the squishy mud of springtime puddles.  So, I was reflecting a bit and chose to start afresh with a title that relates back to one of my favorite poems, Birches, by Robert Frost.  In case you don't know it, here it is:

When I see birches bend to left and right 

Across the lines of straighter darker trees, 

I like to think some boy's been swinging them. 

But swinging doesn't bend them down to stay. 

Ice-storms do that. Often you must have seen them 

Loaded with ice a sunny winter morning 

After a rain. They click upon themselves 

As the breeze rises, and turn many-colored 

As the stir cracks and crazes their enamel. 

Soon the sun's warmth makes them shed crystal shells 

Shattering and avalanching on the snow-crust 

Such heaps of broken glass to sweep away 

You'd think the inner dome of heaven had fallen. 

They are dragged to the withered bracken by the load, 

And they seem not to break; though once they are bowed 

So low for long, they never right themselves: 

You may see their trunks arching in the woods 

Years afterwards, trailing their leaves on the ground 

Like girls on hands and knees that throw their hair 

Before them over their heads to dry in the sun. 

But I was going to say when Truth broke in 

With all her matter-of-fact about the ice-storm 

(Now am I free to be poetical?) 

I should prefer to have some boy bend them 

As he went out and in to fetch the cows 

Some boy too far from town to learn baseball, 

Whose only play was what he found himself, 

Summer or winter, and could play alone. 

One by one he subdued his father's trees 

By riding them down over and over again 

Until he took the stiffness out of them, 

And not one but hung limp, not one was left 

For him to conquer. He learned all there was 

To learn about not launching out too soon 

And so not carrying the tree away 

Clear to the ground. He always kept his poise 

To the top branches, climbing carefully 

With the same pains you use to fill a cup 

Up to the brim, and even above the brim. 

Then he flung outward, feet first, with a swish, 

Kicking his way down through the air to the ground. 

So was I once myself a swinger of birches. 

And so I dream of going back to be. 

It's when I'm weary of considerations, 

And life is too much like a pathless wood 

Where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs 

Broken across it, and one eye is weeping 

From a twig's having lashed across it open. 

I'd like to get away from earth awhile 

And then come back to it and begin over. 

May no fate willfully misunderstand me 

And half grant what I wish and snatch me away 

Not to return. Earth's the right place for love: 

I don't know where it's likely to go better. 

I'd like to go by climbing a birch tree, 

And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk 

Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more, 

But dipped its top and set me down again. 

That would be good both going and coming back. 

One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.

Why did I chose this poem for inspiration?  There are many interpretations, but it's always made me think about how when we look at the world, we are faced with a choice, without even being aware of it.  We can choose to see through the eyes of an adult with a boring, rationalized truth, leaving nothing to mystery or imagination.  Or, wouldn't we rather take a different vantage point altogether, like that of a child, wide-eyed with wonder?  The next time you're meandering in the woods, or driving past a stand of birch trees in your car, think about it.  Would you rather gaze at them knowing they had been bowed from the weight of ice or the caress of the winter's hard winds... or turn your gaze inward and see a child gleefully swinging from the branches, laughter tumbling out & carried aloft by the wind?  I know what I will choose.

During the hazy magical days of childhood (they weren't all magical) my twin sister and I perfected the art of seeing the things that adults often miss.  We would embark on explorations of the forests, streams, nooks & crannies surrounding us and find the most incredible treasures right there in front of our faces.  An old fallen log was actually a horse that we could ride on and bounce.  We loved that old "Oak Mare" so much that we would sneak baggies of oatmeal from the house to bring to her.  Sure, to the untrained eye she was just an old rotting log, full of woodpecker holes and insect highways, but to us, she was a prize and we visited her religiously.  In a stream near our house, we found an oasis under a culvert where a small pool formed and with my deliberation, we called it "Sunny Ridge".  Many happy hours were spent carefully overturning rocks in search of salamanders and other hidden wonders.  Our feet would abandon their shoes and our toes would sink deep, deep, deep into the soft cushiony moss, the carpet of the forest.  Trees were made for climbing, stones for skipping, puddles for jumping and we did it all.  

Little twiners, plotting our next adventure

Us much later, hiking Mount Katahdin, still searching for adventure!

What I'm trying to say is that we only get this one life, one chance.  

In mine, I want to see the magic, the beauty, the hidden stories in the everyday, those things that we  tend to lose sight of a bit too quickly as we grow.   

I choose to see the swingers in the birches, because I am one of them & I hope that for my little boy as he grows.