Desperately Seeking... Help!

A few weeks ago, a harsh reality set in for me.  I had been thinking that as soon as the semester was over and I was rid of the firm time commitments that I was going to have all this free time to do stuff.  The reality for me seems to be that when you aspire to do less, trading it in for that hypothetical "all the stuff that I have been waiting to do", nothing really happens.

Where's this post going?  To tell you that I have joined a fitness center for all the wrong reasons. Getting in shape? That would be ok. Losing weight? Well, that would be a nice side benefit.  No, I joined our local fitness center for the childcare.  Without a schedule, I can go and do something for me without calling a babysitter or pleading with Toolman for help.

Super, Fat Tuesday

On Christmas day, CRB amused his relatives by showing his expertise with the ear thermometer. He got it out of my purse, turned it on, stuck it in his ear, pressed the button, and then "read" the screen for his temperature. He did this over and over impressing the relatives and of course his mama.

Last week, I broke down and finally went to the doctor for my sinus problem. CRB tagged along (wait that makes it sound like he went willingly, or cooperatively...) to my appointment. When the nurse took my blood pressure I was absolutely shocked that it was 90/60, because the whole time CRB was intent on grabbing the puffer. Earlier in the visit he almost managed to turn off the nurse's PC (in order to free Elmo I am sure) when we were doing my pulmonary test. S0 though I felt stressed, I guess my numbers did not show it.

A few minutes later, Dr. D began to examine me, listening to my breathing, looking in my ears and throat. CRB was mesmerized. He stood still, and took it all in.

Over the weekend, I bought him a Fisher-Price medical kit. I did this not to cultivate an aspiring cardiologist or reproductive endocrinologist, but to get him something to play with that was NOT something to throw or make noise. The item said 3+ as the pieces looked to be large enough not to be a choking hazard I bought it anyway. I expected complete rejection, and that I would be adding another item to the closet of Toys Not Right for CRB.

The doctor kit has not changed much from the one my friend had in the 70s. The basic contents are the same. I have to admit that I was disappointed when I could not hear my heartbeat with the new stethoscope. ToolMan informed me that it never worked, and I must have just had a good imagination "back in the day." The thermometer now displays a "digital read out " and the whole thing is contained in an aqua colored sack instead of the molded plastic case.

We spent a lot of Sunday playing doctor and vet (thanks Colin!) and we checked out many of the stuffed animals. This afternoon when I arrived home, it was not that surprising when our Nanny said "He has played with this all day. He gets mad if you don't really put the bloodpressure cuff on your arm." He loves to ride around in the Diego car, wearing the stethoscope, ready to make the next house call.

Many, many people constantly tell me how smart CRB is. I say this NOT to brag but to try to state my problem. I am very resistant to agree with them. I have no problem agreeing that he is cute, or social dynamo, but one cannot get me to agree to more than that. Usually I joke and say "Regardless, I still think he will work as a Wal-Mart greeter."

I just don't want to be one of THOSE moms. I find it very irritating when people say that their 18 month old old can subtract, and my irritation is not because I am feeling competitive with those mommies ;-)

CRB does not talk as much or as clearly as most children that I have been around. My parents are full of stories about my (early) talking. ToolMan's mom has a piece of paper with all the letters of the alphabet, and next to the appropriate letters, all the words that ToolMan knew at 16 months. It's a baby lexicon, truly.

CRB talks but I do not understand most of it. I thought that only twins made up their own language. He constantly makes lots of sounds, mostly beginning with the BU, BA, BE. Today, Hannah our 9 year old neighbor said "He just repeated you, he said Thank You!" I did not hear him say anything actually, I was just trying to make sure he did not fall off his new trike. Similarly, my mom is constantly translating RockBaby to English for me. Perhaps it's that I am not listening closely, but I would still expect to be able to understand more of the time than I do.

Maybe he is smart, I don't know. If he is, we cannot take credit for it. If he is polite toddler and teenager, pat me on the back then, because his mama is behind that.

Physicist Richard Feynman's mother has been quoted as saying "If Richard is the smartest man in the world, God help the world!"

Too much estrogen in the mommy group

My lovely CRB has been a grumpy boy since Saturday. Today I briefly considered making him a doctor's appointment, but his problem seems to be all mood, no symptoms, so I changed my mind. Instead, in order to try to (exhaust) entertain CRB, we went to the pool this morning.

For the first time ever he seemed petrified. He did not want to float in his float on the lazy river, and he did not want to sit in the baby pool anywhere but in my lap. There were lots of mommies there this morning, but with the exception of just one of the mommies, most of the conversations were just too much for me. I tried to just smile and nod but overall I felt like CRB did – get me out of here!

The topic of conversation moved to many areas. One mom was pregnant again, due in late September. Another mom asked if she was excited, and she said she was pretty scared, that last time she ended up on a ventilator for 24 hours. CRB became quite upset at that point so I did not hear the rest of her explanation, but her face or demeanor did not relax, making me concerned for her. The rest of the group was quite dismissive, and seemed to almost chide her that "nothing will go wrong" and that "God will make sure." I am not the best to ask on this subject, because in my opinion and personal experience bad things happen to God-loving-fearing people ALL THE TIME. I guess most people find that kind of talk comforting, but it does not work for me. I just cringed, and CRB to his credit, screamed.

Then the conversation went to scheduling babies. The general consensus was that it was just too hard. At one point, one of the mommies asked me point blank "Are you pretty rigid in your scheduling?" I laughed and said "Yes, he's supposed to be enjoying the pool for another half hour." If they only knew about CRB's bedtime routine, they would have shoved my Adirondack chair out from the umbrella shade of the mommy circle! (By the way, back on schedule tonight = happier baby + happier parents).

Later, another mom was asking if the group had heard about "Joanne" and how Joanne and her husband were adopting from China. The group had some horrifying comments along the lines of they could not believe how expensive it was… why they were adopting instead of having their own, i.e. who had the problem)… wouldn't be fun to be foster parents instead. I guess that could be pretty easy to think like that when those mommies have their "forever family" already.

Competitive Mommy

I met her at the pool today. She told her baby "Look at that baby. He's much younger than you."

I said "Hi baby! This is CRB, he's 8 months." CRB is delightfully splashing. Sizing up her babies alertness (see I am way-competitive mom, Competitive Mommy stands no real chance) I decided her son was at best 6 months, but probably younger, but I did not tell her so. I offered instead "Your son is doing a great job sitting up in his float."

"Oh your CRB is so small! My baby is 5 months and so much bigger, so I thought CRB must be younger. Maybe it's because my husband is 6'5"." edited to add: She continued on with a lot of this and that about what her pediatrician said about how he was so developmentally advanced and such.

This is the first time ever CRB was called small. I replied "Well I am enjoying his smallness as long as possible… trying to savor every moment."

I saw the light click on in her head. We were pals after that.

Surreal to Real

Step back with me to Wednesday, February 14, 2007. Picture me coming home from work super late. ToolMan has been keeping CRB since the afternoon. I come into the kitchen and see some chocolate and a cute Valentine's Day stuffed dog on the island. Picking up the stuffed dog, I see a card. It's addressed to MOM in my husband's handwriting.

"Hey ToolMan, did you forget to mail your mom her card?" I ask aloud.

"No." he replies, and he looks at me and smiles.

"Well then whose card. . . OH! ...WOW! Thank you!!"

This Mother's Day was different. The painful yearning that I felt for the last 5 Mother's Days was absent. Last year I was pregnant with CRB and we had known for several weeks that he was a boy. It should have been a happy day, but I have no memory of it. I spent so much of my pregnancy in a state of intense anxiety. The only memory that I have from last year is the sweet mother-to-be card that Kerri gave me. I kept that card out on the baker's rack in the kitchen until after CRB was born. In late September cards welcoming the baby surrounded that hopeful card.

Today was a good day. ToolMan gave me a beautiful Waterford vase that is the first in a series planned for Mother's Day. CRB gave me smiles, a hug, and we all had a two and a half hour afternoon nap. This evening I received great cards: one from ToolMan, and the other from my little boys Colin (yorkie) and CRB. This time I got the mom reference without missing a beat.