Wednesday, February 2, 2011

The kids are all right.

My son is five weeks from turning five. He is very slowly turning into a rational adult. It's very slow, but the ability to reason and temper emotions is starting to show through, which is a great relief as anyone who's ever parented, interacted with, or been in the near vicinity of a preschooler will attest. He has boundless enthusiasm for the things he enjoys and responds with great distress to the things he doesn't.

He's turning into quite a leader in play -- even with older kids he'll attempt to corral them into what he wants to play. He's not always successful, but he does love to try. He has made friends at daycare -- real friends, not just kids he hangs with, but kids he really seems to get along with. And he's decided some kids aren't nice, and he doesn't like them. C'est la vie. With age comes discrimination, I suppose.

He's not always terribly nice to his sister, but she loves him to bits. He pushed her over the other day and then hid when she started wailing. He pushes at her surreptitiously, hoping we won't notice. And yet sometimes gets down and hugs her and kisses her and wants to play with her. She'll take anything as long as he's paying attention to her.

His knowledge and understanding of the world still continues to amaze us. Half the time he's off in his own little world and we have to yell his name to get him to come to, and then every once in a while he'll come up with something that proves he was totally listening and taking it all in all along, like yesterday when he told my mother that in the caves we went to in Mexico almost three weeks ago the stalactites are hollow and the stalagmites are solid. From a kid who forgets that I told him to get dressed not 30 seconds after I said it. And then tells me, "Sorry mom, but I forget things almost instantly." No sh*t, Sherlock. Try not to sound too cheerful about it because mama's blood pressure just might go through the roof.

We had a discussion this morning about kindergarten, since The Man got up at 6am to register him for after school care (many parents wait overnight for this. In the cold. In February. But we are blessed to have more than one option, and we object to the insanity, so instead he went around 6:30. We are miraculously 12th in line. For what I believe are 11 spots. Ha.) I told him he'd learn the names of the letters and how to read. He scoffed. And then told me that what he wanted to learn was "How those glow signs work. The ones with the letters!" I told him I wasn't sure that the mechanics of neon signs was on the kindergarten curriculum, but that he could ask. I think perhaps he is going to be very disappointed with school. But we're talking it up anyway. Yay kindergarten! It's going to be so awesome!!!!1!


On our trip back from Orlando we had two delayed flights and a long long journey, and it was late and we were all tired and I started at one point to cry about it, and he came over, very concerned. "What's wrong mom? Why are you crying? Do you want a hug? I'll give you a hug. You'll feel better." And I did, because he thought and he cared and he wanted to make it better. God he's awesome. A huge amount of work, and he drives me crazy, but wow awesome.


The Girl is now nine months old. She started crawling mid-December after four months of trying to do so, and has given that over now in favour of cruising. If I take into account her brother and her own track record I predict she'll walk in a few months ... soon enough, but too soon, if you know what I mean. She's now at that lovely "I can get up but can't get down" phase which means she spends a great deal of time fussing at me, panicked about her vertical state. It's great.

She's learned how to wave and can now even do it at appropriate moments, which makes us melt. Communication! Someone's in there!! I mean, sure, she's been smiling and laughing for months now but waving seems somehow the next step to talking. Don't ask me why.

Speaking of talking she can now say "ma-ma" "da-da" and "na-na" which pretty much covers immediate family, although she says them completely indiscriminately so whilst the consonants are good the meaning behind them is clearly lacking. Still. It's a good thing.

Her hair continues to confuse us. In most lights it's a nice light brown, but in sunshine it looks golden blond and in some special sunlight it looks like red gold. So the jury is still out, nine months in, on what her final hair colour will be. I imagine it will likely keep changing through her childhood, but it sure would be nice to have a sincere sounding answer when people ask. "Brown?" sounds like I don't ever really look at her.

Which I do. A lot. I mean, we're together 24 / 7, except for that pedicure three weeks ago. Because she is still, Dear LORD, not eating. I don't mean to harp on about this but it's consuming my days. Because all I do is stand in the kitchen and eat. I just made rice krispie squares. I'm saying here in public that I think they will be gone by tomorrow. Because they are easy and close and hey it's rice! It's healthy! And I will eat them and eat them and eat them to try to fill this ravenous hole inside me. I have been making special trips to the grocery store to try and find something she will ingest. Nine months arrived Sunday and I was all "Dr Sears says she can have DAIRY!" and the very next day I was at the grocery store getting organic plain yogurt. Which she ate. Kind of. Not really. But she made a lovely finger paint with it.

I made a doctor's appointment for her, similar to the one I made for my son at this age, but instead of going in all panicked about him Not! Eating! my intent with this one is just to make sure she's still growing appropriately and then to sigh resignedly and keep nursing her until she deigns to eat. However I'm sure I will still greet the doctor with some amount of panic. It's what I do.

No comments: