Kid Amnesiac

Tomorrow I leave for a short business trip to Indianapolis. That in itself is not notable. Simon will not be joining me. That is quite new, and a bit angst provoking.

My trip will be short, a mere 48 hours, but I’m still a little nervous about it. I’ve only recently gotten used to being away from Simon for a seven-hour stretch. Forty-eight seems like forever.

For the record, I’m not at all worried about Simon. He’ll have Matt, his Bubbie, Kathy, and his Grandma looking after him while I’m away. He’ll be fine.

It’s less clear how I’ll do. I know I’ll miss him at night and in the morning, but I’m not particularly worried about that. I’m not even that worried that Simon will miss me and I won’t be around to comfort him. Deep down, I think I’m more worried that I’ll be away and he won’t miss me at all!

Now that is a level of self-centeredness that is none too pretty. My little guy, by contrast, is looking quite pretty in a toothy way these days. This photo will be my “fix” on the road.

I’ve gotten spoiled of late with a happy, mellow baby. For many months, Simon has eaten well, slept very well, and been happy and giggly most of the time. All in all, he’s made parenting feel easy.

The past five days, on the other hand, have been trying. I don’t know if teething or nascent toddler temper is to blame, but he’s definitely given me a run for my money. This past Wednesday Simon threw a fit the likes of which I had not seen or heard for a very long time during his lunch time. He eventually settled down and had a nice time playing with his sitter, but I had an author call during the eye of the storm, and Simon was so loud that I was forced to exit the premises immediately. So I took the call on my porch, in the winter, with no coat on. I turned completely blue and didn’t have much fun at all.

Thursday was fine, but Friday witnessed a return to bad form, with lots of moaning and crabbing, and several all-out shrieking fits. The worst was when I gave him a home-made icicle for his teething pain, and either the hardness of the icicle or its cold surface somehow irritated his gums or lips. All I know is that he was giggling one minute and then began to wail and bleed from his mouth. That wailing continued long after the bleeding had stopped. Matt and I high-fived each other when he went down for the night, and then we collapsed ourselves.

Saturday we had another terrific day-truly one of our best ever-but I knew I was in for it today when Simon awoke hysterical at 2:30 a.m. and had to lie down in bed with us for a bit before he was calm enough to go back to his crib. Things were spotty from then on, and his dinner hour was a flat-out disaster. I was pretty frustrated by the non-stop wailing, and I am already stressed today for non-Simon reasons. (I’m traveling for work this week, I broke my glasses yesterday, and I discovered today that my brand new glasses-the ones I spent three hours and $500 on yesterday–are damaged with no time for me to fix before I leave town.) Honestly, all the while Simon was yelling tonight, all I could think about was having a glass of wine and going to bed myself.

It’s hard to decide what my least favorite type of fit is. It’s a tight race between the arching-back-twisting-rolling shrieking fit and the bending-over-putting-head-on-floor shrieking fit. I think the former is more disturbing and the latter more heartbreaking, but neither is going to get him into charm school or make me feel like the mother of the year.

Somehow, though, we managed to get through it all, and I managed to keep my cool. When he got upset on our walk today, I carried him home. When he was despondent in the living room, I held him and tried to comfort him while he worked it out. And by the time he went to bed, he was smiley and happy again, so we got to end the day on a sweet and loving note. I suppose these days are necessary to remind you that it’s hard to be a baby/toddler, that your wards are little, complicated people and not just toys, and that the bonds of family unity are forged as much by bad days as good ones. Tomorrow is another day!

Long Naps

Yesterday was a Camp Whitworth day for Simon, but I’m afraid he didn’t take full advantage of it. It seems that while Simon played with Grandma and Papaw and even kicked a ball around their house (this a new trick), he also took a three-and-a-half-hour nap. Three and one half hours!

As he usually does, he was too excited to be at a new house to take a morning nap at the usual time of 10:30. So he crashed around 11:45. That’s par for the course. But this time, he didn’t wake up at 1:00 wanting lunch. Or at 2:00. Or even 3:00. Nope, he slept straight through and woke up at 3:15, just in time for linner (the brunch of the mid-afternoon).

He didn’t nap quite as long today, but he did take a later than usual (11:30) longer than usual (2 hrs) morning nap. If he does this for another day or so, I’ll know it’s time to start stretching out his morning wakeful period until after lunch as part of a migration to a single nap. If he doesn’t, I’ll know these odd naps are merely part and parcel of Simon being generally off-schedule from teething. (He’s cutting several more and is having a hard time with them.)

Idle Hands

During all these marathon naps, I was supposed to be getting stuff done. Organizing stuff. Work stuff. Cooking stuff. Cleaning stuff. You know, the stuff of life. Instead I’ve been reading, thinking, reading some more, and posting a letter or two over at Salon.

What’s behind all this sloth is that I’ve finally started paying attention to the upcoming presidential election. I’ve grown to truly despise the way the U.S. handles elections, and so for the past several years, I’ve taken an ostrich approach. I watch a little PBS, I listen to a little NPR, I read the New York Times, the Economist, and a few other periodicals, and I otherwise avoid all media. I am particularly careful to avoid all political commercials and frankly think they do a disservice to democracy.

I was all set to do the same this year. Then my chosen candidate, John Edwards, left the race, and suddenly I realized I had a choice to make in the coming months. With this in mind, I watched my first debate Thursday night, and I’ve been reading about it and thinking about it all day. One debate isn’t enough to help me make my choice, and this isn’t the place to discuss my political views anyway.

Except for one thing.

Looking up at the podium on Thursday night I saw two intelligent, passionate, and civilized candidates representing one of our nation’s two major parties. It was hard to miss that one happens to be a woman and the other a biracial man. As much as I’m trying not to care about either of these things and don’t want to reduce complicated people to simple labels, I just can’t help but notice and feel a tingle of excitement this time.

Two weeks ago we celebrated MLK, Jr. Day, a day when we are reminded of how far we have come and far we still we have to go to realize King’s dream of judging people by the content of their character. I don’t think for a minute that we’ve suddenly realized this dream and erased all misogyny and bigotry from our society. But we’ve clearly made some progress, and it gives me great hope that Simon will grow up in a fairer, more open society than I did, just as I grew up in a fairer, more open society than my mother or her mother before her.