changes

Life has taken over….or rather the details of life…the cleaning and cooking, the stacking and filing…all the busy things that we do to occupy ourselves with while the hours pass and the calendar lunges forward. I worry that I am not recording this time with Lukas well enough, that as it passes I am missing major milestones. I never kept a baby journal as I had hoped. I don’t have a record of what he ate first or when he first stood alone. I am not certain when he first slept through the night. Although I do remember when he got his first tooth and who saw it.
It was my friend Jenn who noticed the little white gem thrusting through his pink gums. We were at Stone Soup and Lukas lay between us on the table, an awkward centerpiece staring at the ceiling fan. But mostly I have forgotten the dates and times of his various developmental masterings. It really wasn’t so clear anyway. He didn’t one day simply stand and walk alone. And there are so many milestones these days that I just can’t keep track of them all. The road is a jumble of them. My pockets are heavy with this precious collection. I get greedy for them now. I watch each day for the new flash he will give me. Stacking the blocks alone or bringing me something that I ask for. We play games that make me laugh so hard that I am crying.

My life has become him. This is a mixed joy and sorrow. It is a joy because I am having so much fun in our little bubble and a sorrow because it is a bubble and sometimes that is lonely. Last year it was all about bonding. I spent hours of holding him, staring at him, nursing him, so that I might be so deeply connected to him that I wouldn’t mind the late night feedings, so that I wouldn’t resent the 5 months of holding his hand while he learned to walk. And I didn’t resent it. I loved loving and being loved. I loved watching for the small changes each day.
Now he is walking. He is learning to move independent of me and he loves it. He run’s around the house digging things out of bags and hiding them under the sofa, moving our shoes onto the toilet seat, dragging toilet paper out of the bathroom and shredding it as he giggles and screams with joy. He still comes back and checks in. He buries his head between my knees begging to be picked up as I stand at the counter. But he can move alone now. He doesn’t need me as much. He has begun to wean himself as well. It’s not that he rejects it when I offer but he doesn’t ask. He falls asleep without nursing and wakes so eager to explore the world that he seems to forget about our morning cuddle, not realizing that slowly my milk is drying up. He is weaning me. Why did this bond have to go so deep? Why did I have to fall so hard into our slow and quiet daily dialogue if it was all to change so fast? Why did I have to learn to hold him only so that I could learn to let him go? I don’t think that I will ever really let him go.
I am going back to work more regularly and have therefore begun the grueling search for child care. I think that it is more difficult than looking for a job or buying a house. I have visited some pretty scary places in the past weeks. There were places where I didn’t even want to put Lukas down for fear that he would touch something. There were places with no windows. Places where children slept on mats as if they were in a homeless shelter, bunked on top of each other like refugees. I have been to centers, talked to nannies and babysitters and other mothers who might want to swap care. I can’t seem to find the “perfect” place. Honestly I think that I just don’t want to believe that he can be o.k. with anyone but me. In reality, I know he will. I know as long as he is safe and cared for, as long as he is taken out into the fresh air and allowed to play and he is fed well….he will be fine. I know in my mind that it is good for him, good for both of us, but secretly I hope that the job will fall through, that things won’t have to change. I have grown accustomed to our rhythm…but sadly I have lost my own. And things will change….they do change. This year has taught me how fast they can change. But that doesn’t mean that I have to like it. My mother always tells me that her children were her greatest teachers. I feel like I am only just beginning to understand what that means. We have such a long way to go….hopefully a lifetime.

will

Lukas has a will. Everything is a battle. Putting on the coat. Putting on the shoes. Changing the diapers. Putting on the pajamas. He wants everything. He wants the computer if I am on it. He wants the pen I am writing with. He wants whatever I’m eating. The other day I simply ran out of patience. I truly had no more patience. I was changing his diaper. He was rolling over and kicking me and I just grabbed his legs, grunted with exasperation and turned him over, with a bit of force. He stopped fussing, looked at me and got quiet. Then he cried a totally different cry. I felt like the worst mother. I felt that I must be abusing him. I tried to apologize but honestly I was just done. That is what happens when you don’t take care of yourself enough. You just burn out. I was feeling quite burned out the last week. I was sick. Being sick as a mom is just such a different thing. It is unexplainable. You just don’t get a break. You can’t just call in and say that you won’t be coming. You have to get up and bumble through it, dizzy, tired, snotty nosed and coughing. I felt sorry for my self. Then I looked at Lukas who was also sick and I felt sorry for him because I just couldn’t do it as well as usual.
On the flip side of his burgeoning will is his developing personality. He is fully able to walk these days….somtimes a little stumbly but he manages. He plays games with me now. He hides behind the curtain and peaks out with excitement as he giggles and hides again. He likes books and playing with markers and paper. He blew the whistle the other day. He blows when we light candles. He digs through his diaper bag for his snacks. He is so able now in so many new ways. I love him so very much. I just need to learn where the line is between he and me. I need to remember that taking care of him is not taking care of me. Oh sigh…this isn’t a beautifully composed message but honestly I just don’t have the space for those anymore. As bits of freedom appear I get ambitious to cook or do yoga or clean things or work on small projects and I don’t record this as well.

But I want to and so I am letting go of the need to write a pretty and reflective entry. So here it is…..my boy has a will and walks and I am tired…..those are the highlights.