Kid Amnesiac

When I was pregnant and again when Simon was newly born, I remember asking Evie what Matt was like as a baby. (I don’t know how much I asked my mom, frankly. I was the third, so while Mom remembers that I scooted on my tush and disliked baby food, she doesn’t really remember that much else.) She’d tell me some comforting things, like the fact that Matt was totally easy and sweet natured; some alarming things, like the fact that Matt sat among a heap of toys more than he played with any of them; and some things I didn’t really understand, like the fact that “Matt loved his bed.”

Huh? What does it mean exactly that he loved his bed? I get it now. It was thirteen months in the making, but Simon clearly loves his bed now. I know this because he will quite regularly go and stand by it or point to it when he’s tired and ready to sleep.

He first did this for my mother. She was reading him books before nap-time, and at some point he put the book down and gestured over to his crib. It was as though he was saying, “I’m tired Bubbie. We can read later.” And sure enough, he looked happy and relaxed when she put him down, and he fell asleep with nary a peep.

Then it happened with me and Evie .And Molly. And now we are at the point where Simon pretty well tells us when he’s ready to go to bed. We will sit in the glider in the nursery at the end of the day, and he will bring us a succession of books to read. He brings them over one at a time, and each time we lift him into our lap and read to him snuggled together. After 3-5 books, Simon will leave the glider, veer to the left (the books are to the right) and stand by his crib. Sometimes he’ll lift his arms-telling us to please pick him up and put him to bed. Sometimes he’ll hang onto the slats. Either way, it’s very clear what he’s telling us.

Last night he got stuck on a single book that’s perhaps a bit too advanced for him. His frustration mounted, and he was beginning to damage the book.. My solution was to take the book away from Simon, which begat angry tears. Matt’s was to say, “Simon, let’s go to bed,” which begat his giving me the book and walking over to his crib.

No kidding. It’s a good thing that he loves his crib, frankly. Because the other thing about Simon is that he loves to sleep, logging an average of 11-12 hours at night and another 2-3 for his nap. Were I going to sleep 15 hours a day, I’d want to love my bed, too.

I think we’re about finished with First Steps. Last Wednesday, the day I horribly overbooked myself, our therapist Amy called to see if she should come for Simon’s therapy. It seemed ridiculous to cancel just because Simon could walk. I mean, I was thrilled to see him walk his little Frankenstein walk, but there was still walking with hands down, running, stopping in place, carrying things, kicking, and climbing to master.

So she came, and we decided she’d come again in three weeks to see how Simon is progressing. I’ll let her come, but it’s for two not entirely healthy reasons: For one, I’ll let her come because as long as I have to pay for July, I might as well get more than one session out of it. And in the second place, I want to show off.

Simon is progressing in leaps and bounds. He’s been walking pretty quickly for over a week now. At least once each day, I am thrilled to hear the thumpity-thump of not-so-little feet pounding away on the hardwood floors. Then yesterday he got into a higher gear and ran a bit.

We were so excited! Then, before we even had a chance to eat a victory brownie, he kicked a ball for his Auntie Jen the soccer player. His climbing skills remain limited, but it’s not for a lack of trying. He can climb on his sand and water table, up the stairs, and onto his train table. He tries to climb onto our bed and into and out of the bath-tub, too.

Not coincidentally, we are finding these new skills are accompanied by squeals, giggles, shouts, and bruises. Three out of four isn’t so bad.

As if that weren’t enough to be happy about, I’ve been working fewer hours of late (cashing in some comp time), we’ve enjoyed a long holiday weekend, we’re seeing advances in what Simon understands, and the summer weather has been glorious. It is truly a good time to be Simon and to be Simon’s mother.

Much like the airline industry, I am prone to encountering “overbooking situations”. Somehow, I always think that this will be the week when the space-time continuum will alter to accommodate my planned 30-hour day.

Wednesday, I actually planned the following day. And I swear that at the time, this day seemed a bit busy perhaps, but also totally doable. Here it is:

• 7:30-9:30: Simon wakes up, we have breakfast, I shower and enjoy a leisurely cup of tea, then Simon and I play together for a bit.
• 9:30: Molly (the sitter) arrives for the day.
• 9:30: Amy (the physical therapist) arrives for Simon’s First Steps appointment.
• 10:00: Christopher arrives for the morning. He plays with Molly and/or plays with Simon during his therapy appointment.
• 10:30-1:30: I work, eat lunch, and supervise the landscaping in the front of the house and the deck building in the back.
• 1:30-3:00: I meet with my neighbor Lynn to cut down two trees along our property line in preparation for more landscaping work.
• 3:00: Molly leaves for the day; Simon and I play until 5:00 or so when Matt gets off work.
• 5:00-8:00: dinner and play-time
• 8:00: bedtime for Simon
• 8:00-10:00: household organization project continues (I’m overhauling the inside and out.)

HA!

Here’s what really happened:

• 9:00: Simon wakes up Our little sleep champ logged 12 ½ hours Tuesday night.
• 9:10-9:30: No time for planned pancakes. I throw yogurt and granola into a bowl, hand it to Matt, and dash to the shower.
• 9:30: Molly and Amy arrive; Simon is still groggy and slightly crabby. I’m dressed but dripping.
• 9:50: Christopher arrives and seems a bit crabby and clingy himself.
• 10:00: Christopher begins to cry.
• 10:15: I meet with Fairleigh (front yard landscaper) to discuss plans while trying to console Christopher and participate in Simon’s First Steps session at the same time.
• 10:30: Amy updates me on Simon’s progress, gives me written instructions for the next three weeks, and tries to schedule our next session while I rock an increasingly inconsolable Christopher in my lap.
• 10:35: I see Amy out the door and answer a quick question from Walter (the deck guy) as I load Christopher in the stroller to take him back to Shannon’s shop.
• 10:35-11:35: Walk to Mama’s Hip and back, stop to discuss Christopher’s hard morning with Shannon and assure her that these difficult stages are universal and normal.
• 11:35-2:15: Log in to work. Complete single task that was supposed to take 20 minutes.
• 2:15-3:00: No sign of neighbor Lynn, so first round of weed-killer administered using my new sprayer. I learn two valuable lessons at this point. First, add the Roundup to the water-not the other way around! Second, be very careful when you go to empty the pressure sprayer, lest you spray Roundup all over your legs and face. Yuck!
• 3:00-3:10: See Molly off, hang on to cranky Simon, and check to make sure I have the Poison Control number just in case.
• 3:10-4:00: Pay Fairleigh for work, keep Simon from running into the street or poison ivy patch, eavesdrop on Greg (the architect and landscaper) who is explaining to Walter that my deck is now seven inches lower than it’s supposed to be. Uh Oh! Run into Lynn and reschedule our work.
• 4:00-5:30 Escape with Simon to park to play and then to Heine Brothers for some decaf and a Kizito cookie.
• 5:45 to 8:00: Sit looking shell-shocked as Matt makes dinner and plays with Simon before bedtime. Clean kitchen from earlier milk spill. Put in load of diapers. Talk to assistant about author emergency. Talk to author about author emergency. Pour restorative glass of wine.
• 8:00 and beyond. Attend to new bug-bites, collapse on couch, watch “Entourage”, begin new book.

The rest of my planned filing/weeding/household organization? I decided it could wait until Thursday. Simon spends Thursdays at Jim and Evie’s for about six hours, giving me time to work for five hours, work around the house for three hours, and run a few errands. With logic like this, what could possibly go wrong?

“Uh Oh!” must be one of Simon’s favorite words. We hear it most mornings when he wakes up, along with “the bus!” “ball”, and “oh no!” Specifically, we hear “Uh oh! Uh oh! Uh oh! Uh oh!” It’s fun to say.

Now, though, we have a context for “uh oh!” that’s less fun. Ever since Simon began to walk two weeks ago, his interest in climbing and scrambling has far outstripped his ability to climb or to detect edges. We’ve had one tumble off the bed so far and another one off some play equipment. Simon, poor guy, has one black-and-blue goose egg and another reddish raw patch to show for it.

It would seem that just when I can trust Simon to keep his clothes intact, I now have to worry about his face! A friend recommended a parenting book called “The Wisdom of the Scraped Knee” to me just yesterday. I’m thinking that could be just what the doctor ordered for me, because I have to say that two tumbles resultinig in tears and ice bags are making me feel more negligent than wise.

But hey, he’s still pretty. And it’s still way better than butt scooting!