Sunday 27 October 2013

fearlessness

Today, I got a preview of some of the anxiety and sleeplessness that surely awaits me in Nicolas's future. Not only is he rough-and-tumble, but he is defiant and loves to get me riled up.

It begins innocently enough, with some sensory exploration (banging metal cars on windows, tables, chairs, walls, etc.) and distance measurements (throwing metal cars - and food - down the stairs, across the room, at people's heads, etc.). He then takes a pause to see my expression: if I ignore him, he soon gets bored and moves on to some other seemingly random, but potentially intentional, act of home destruction. If, however, he sees my eyes widen, a gasp leave my mouth, or my body move to stop him, his eyes twinkle and he smiles. He then poses, yes POSES, as if to repeat the action!! Today, he was threatening to dive off the couch. I was on the floor, he was bouncing on the couch, and it's as if he noticed that I was a little worried he'd fall. So he started putting his hands up in the air, going towards the edge, and acting as if he were going to fall, ON PURPOSE, to see me worry. He thought it was the funniest thing in the world.

Of course, the stuff we learn in our Psych 101 class leads us to believe that he is just looking for attention, that if we give him positive reinforcement during other, safer pursuits, he will look to obtain attention that way.

Ha!

Not.

I can already see that this will be the boy who initiates me into another dimension of worry. It seems that it wasn't enough to worry about Sebastian's sensitivity and fears, and Lucas not doing well in school: I had to spawn a boy who will dare-devil his way through life so that I could experience the full spectrum of motherhood angst.

Amen.


Saturday 26 October 2013

distance makes the heart forget

Nothing is stronger than a mother's bond, right? Well, I have my doubts.

I was away for work this past week, and when I finally got home yesterday, my dear, sweet baby Nic didn't want me. When I picked him up, he kept reaching out for daddy.

It was devastating.

And completely unfair.

Hubby said it's normal, that I was away for so long, of course it will take him awhile.

Really?

Five days can have that effect??

Really??

He's 18 months old, and I take care of him A LOT. Much more than his father, on a regular basis. I gave birth to him, nursed him for a year, and I am actually quite indulgent with him, yet, five days away, and I am already forgotten, no longer wanted.

I seriously question the concept that the mother-child bond is absolute, strong and undeniable, just because it's the mother. I continue to suspect that whomever takes care of the child is the one to receive the attachment and extra special love. And since it's been mothers who've done this for millennia, the belief is quite engrained. And that it is simply a self-fulfilling prophecy.

And then I wonder if I shouldn't have chosen to be a stay-at-home mom. But I know that an increase in open displays of love and affection is not a good enough reason. What, I should stay home so that my kids love me more? What kind of reason is that? THAT is selfish. People always try to imply that only selfish mothers work instead of stay home with their children; I know that my children would NOT be in better hands with me not working. I see it every summer when I am home for three months: by the end of every August, I become a grumpy, yelling freak always on the verge of hysteria.

Damned if I do, forgotten if I don't.

Tuesday 15 October 2013

MIA

After being MIA for the past long while, I've decided to return to my mommy blog. Still exhausted, stressed, and seemingly with no time to write, but, alas, a little is better than nothing, no?

I am hopelessly in love with baby no. 3. No, it's not favoritism, but I do feel more love for him than the other two. I would never say I love him more, no... But when I look at him, my whole body just fills with intense emotion. I want to touch him, squeeze him, look at him, marvel at all that he does, is. He is just super special, perfect. It's a miracle that he walks, breathes, runs, utters any sound at all. And he is growing, and he has his own personality. He learns things, and is playful. He'll banter and engage me, teasing me, and responding to my teasing him.

Wow.

And to think that I felt this all before with the other two.

Did I appreciate them the way I appreciate him? I certainly hope so. Because if not, that means that I may very well be spoiling my baby, my third, the infamous last child. And, it also means that everyone is right: that it all passes too quickly and that I ought to appreciate every single second.