Kindergarten Jitters

This is Ben's last week of preschool. Ever. In three short months he'll be a full-fledged kindergartener. The school district does a really good job of preparing the kids AND the parents for the transition to kindergarten, with lots of information sessions, chances to ask questions, tours of the school, etc. So far Ben has been nothing but excited, expressing no concerns or nervousness. When I inquired if he'd asked his friend in kindergarten any questions about it he said, "No, I want to find out what it's like for myself."

I, on the other hand, must be more nervous than even I realized because I've started having stress dreams about it. In them we're always late for school or Ben doesn't have anything he needs or we don't know where to go. This is a very typical reaction for me during times of change, stressing out about something MONTHS before it happens.

I shouldn't be surprised. Ben and I have a long history of him being perfectly calm about changes in his life and me freaking out for no good reason. But this time it did surprise me. I thought I was (somewhat) past getting THIS worked up about a change in HIS life. After all, it's not like he's 1 year old and I'm taking his bottle away. He's going to be 6, starting school, and really beginning the time when his life is his story to tell, not mine. I suppose that's the obvious root of the anxiety.

As if he sensed my uneasiness in the air, on Monday I found Sam ripping apart the "All About Me" poster Ben had made in preschool last year. Of course, he's two and he was just having fun ripping some paper, but only having woken up from a kindergarten stress dream an hour earlier, it seemed so heart-wrenchingly significant to me. Babyhood, toddlerhood and now even preschool are all behind us. Ahead are great things and I cannot wait to see how Ben flourishes in school, because I know he will. But at this moment it just feels like I'm losing my baby.

Pushing through

I'm feeling melancholy today. I think Ben turning 5 has affected me more than I thought it would. For some reason 5 must be a threshold in my mind. Even though Ben won't be in elementary school for another year, I feel like he's starting to float away from me. I also think about the fact that I read somewhere that kids' brains are like sponges until age 5. They soak up everything. And I just hope we exposed him to enough good things to soak up.

He's getting so big. Not just physically, but mentally. Sometimes the connections he makes and the insights he has astound me. "Where did he learn that?" I think. And then I realize he didn't learn it. He just thought it up. And that's so awesome, but today it's making me have a real "Where is the time going? It's happening way too fast" moment.

Sometimes I'll watch one of the kids as he's doing something really funny or very This Age. I'll try to memorize the lines of his body, the cadence of his laugh, the tilt of his head so I'll never forget it. But I know I will. I try to remember what Ben was like at Sam's age and it's hard. Hard to remember him then and hard to imagine him in the future.

So I take pictures and videos and try to post the funny moments on my blog so I can remember. I'm also trying very hard to live in the moment. But right now I'm feeling very overwhelmed by the task of Raising Good Human Beings. There are so many things to think about: good nutrition, teaching values, setting limits but not being too strict, not "being their friend" but still having fun with them, not spoiling, learning colors and letters and reading and chemistry, instilling gratitude and manners and helping them to appreciate art and science and beauty and life. It's so much. Sometimes I take it all in stride and I know that little by little, day by day, through my actions and words my kids will learn what I want them to learn. But right now it seems like an impossible task and there's a part of me that thinks I squandered those sponge-brain years with Ben and I'm definitely squandering them with Sam.

Well, I've just got to push through. One of the exhausting but sometimes liberating facts of parenthood is that it just keeps going, whether you're ready or overwhelmed or not.

Guilt

As a parent, guilt is an emotion you have to get up close and personal with. Even as a stay-at-home mom I experience guilt. But it's hard not to when the Ideal Parent these days is fun! and engaging and always finds those "teachable moments" while never raising their voice and taking the kids on exciting field trips and packing nutritious lunches with no added sugar and doing crafts and baking projects all while creating amazing dinners and decorating the baby's nursery with cute items found antiquing. There's no room in there for frustration or drive-thru McDonald's or wanting time for yourself.

The biggest guilt-inducer for me is Having Two Kids. When it was only Ben and me I could focus on him and I felt like we really connected. For the past 16 months my attention has always been divided and I feel like I'm not really seeing either kid. I'm half listening to Ben chatter while I try to coax Sam to eat something. I'm saying, "I'll read that to you in a minute, Sam," as I help Ben kill goombas and turtles in Mario Brothers. Even though we're together almost ALL THE TIME, I don't feel like I have enough time for either of them. With Sam it's a little better, because Ben's at school three mornings a week, so we have that time, but there's almost no time when it's just Ben and me. After Ben's quiet time Sam is usually still napping, so that would be  the perfect time for us to have... But honestly by mid-afternoon I'm wiped and I hate to admit it, but more often than not Ben spends that time playing video games or watching TV, so I can have some peace and relative quiet.

The other big guilt-fest is that Sam isn't having the same kind of very early childhood that Ben did. When Ben was a toddler he didn't have sugar until after he was one, he had age-appropriate, educational toys everywhere he looked and he never really watched TV until he was a year and a half and even then it was only PBS, strictly 30-60 minutes per day, no more! Ben had my full attention and we went out to new and different places almost every day.

Sam's been watching SpongeBob SquarePants since before he could crawl, he had cake and ice cream and french fries, all way before his first birthday and right now one of his favorite things is to carry around the Nerf gun and have you shoot darts at the window for him.

He and Ben were born into different circumstances and they're not the same person and they don't need to be treated the same way, necessarily, either. But it's hard not to think that I'm disadvantaging Sam somehow by not providing him the same things Ben had. But I can't provide him a first-child existence, so I should just stop worrying about it, right? Well, I'll let you know how that goes.

A bathroom story with a happy ending

A while ago I was waiting in line for the restroom and in walked a woman with her son. Not so unusual, except for the fact that the boy must've been about 10 years old. He looked mortified and I was a little uncomfortable with it, too. As the mother of two young boys it got me thinking about when it would be appropriate to send a boy into a public restroom by himself. I've talked about this with some other mothers and most think 10 is too old to be in a women's room, but the fact that some people DON'T just weirds me out.

This all brings me to the fact that I sent Ben into a public restroom by himself last week. We were having lunch at St. Louis Bread Co. and halfway through the meal Ben said he had to go to the potty. All our food was laid out, as well as our coats on the chairs and my bag on the floor. Sam was happily eating his lunch and I didn't want to disrupt him by dragging us and all our shit into the bathroom.

So I quickly assessed the situation and decided Ben could go on his own. I walked him to the men's restroom and told him to meet us at the table when he was done. And guess what happened? He went to the bathroom and came back. No abductions, no injuries, no molestations.

Now, not every 4 year old could necessarily do that. If a kid gets nervous by himself or is very timid around strangers it might not work out. But Ben's pretty mature and he's not shy at all about asking people for help and he doesn't get scared easily. I knew he'd be able to handle it.

I'm proud of myself for not giving in to the culture of fear that permeates parenting these days. I know my kid and what he's capable of and I used that as my guide, not baseless mistrust of everyone around me. Hopefully more parents will start doing that.

Personality 101

I've talked a lot about Ben being an extrovert and it's because so much of what makes him happy and comfortable is exactly the opposite of what makes me happy and comfortable. I see an empty park and I sigh with relief. He sees an empty park and doesn't even want to play. It puts us at odds a lot, so it's something that's on my mind.

However, I'm guessing that in a lot of ways, parenting an extroverted child is easier. I never have to goad him to play with other kids. He was never uncomfortable going to school. We rarely have to deal with him being shy. I almost feel like I'm being "racist" against my own people saying that, but it's true.

It will be ironic if I get my wish and Sam is an introvert, because though I know how to be an introvert, I'm sure parenting one is a whole different thing. At least I'll understand when he just wants to sit and read on a bench while Ben's running wild at the playground. But now I also understand why my parents forced me to do a year of soccer and a year of softball and a year of dance. None of those activities really stuck, but they forced me out of my head for a little while.

However, the fact is, I'm not ready to make a call on Sam's introverted vs. extroverted personality. He's definitely calmer than I remember Ben being, and sometimes when he's a little fussy or squirmy he just wants to sit by himself. He plays well on his own for a while, but ultimately he wants to be with us most of the time. So who knows. It's going to be interesting to see what he's like as he gets older, and how he and Ben interact and bounce off each other.

Am I already this out of date?

Ben has been using the iPod and other touch screen devices since he was about 18 months old. So now, two years later, he's very good at it. One of his favorite iPad games is Angry Birds. In the game you have to fling birds with a slingshot at pigs in various types of structures. The goal is to knock down all the pigs. It's a good game for him because he has to aim and judge distance and trajectory.

He plays it a lot and this morning we were playing together. I was attempting to pass a level and since I don't play it very much I failed. Ben gently took the iPad from my lap and said, "This one's pretty hard for you, Mom. I can do it."

And the sad thing was, he did.

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Ben

I've been warned by friends with older kids that the "terrible twos" are really nothing compared to three year olds. And only one week away from Ben's third birthday we are experiencing that reality for ourselves. Heath described it rather succinctly: When they're two they do bad things, but they don't realize those things are bad. But when they're three they do bad things they know are bad. So it's all about the intent.

The most frustrating thing is that sometimes Ben's his old, sweet self. He'll cooperate, he'll do what I ask, he won't stall for insane amounts of time. Then all of a sudden a switch goes off in his head and he's whining and stomping around and willfully disobeying me. And this happens every day. Our day isn't complete until he's thrown himself on the ground in anguish over something. Or made me drag him along the sidewalk because he won't stand up. Or run away while I'm yelling at him to STOP.

Is this like mini-boot camp for the teenage years? I suppose I should be grateful that at least right now I can physically overpower him. That advantage is going to go away all too soon. He'll probably be taller than I am by the time he's 10. But this SUCKS. I know it's not just me, but it's making me feel like a terrible parent because I pretty much want to strangle him on a daily basis. And I don't want to be screaming at him in Target or at restaurants.

I guess he started preschool just in time. We both need our space.

The first day

Leaving on the first day

As I expected, Ben had a great first day of preschool. No tears, he had a lot of fun. According to him he played with trains, they read a story about two boys laughing and they heard music. Oh and they went to the playground. I also know he played with sand, because he had some in his hair.

The weird thing about all of this is that now Ben has a life beyond me. And I suppose that's some (or all) of what the tears were about. It's the first big step we've taken to him having his own life. I feel like now he's on this conveyor belt that will eventually take him away from me. Which is how it should ultimately be, it's just hard to swallow when he's not even quite three.

I admit, though, I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow while he's at school and it's going to be so nice to go and not have to deal with him. I think yesterday is the only day there will be tears. At least until kindergarten.

I'm going to have two sons. Two sons. That just sounds bizarre.

My pregnancy is progressing normally and overall I'm feeling okay. Sometimes. I'm right on the verge of my third trimester, so it's all downhill from here, until the horrible, horrible pain of labor and delivery will actually become preferable to my daily aches, pains and exhaustion. It seems hard to believe, but every pregnant woman I've talked to has reached that point.

My mental state regarding this second child thing is a little more precarious. I'm starting to freak out about having two children. I keep coming back to this thought of, "What have I done?" We're at a point where things with Ben are manageable and routine and we don't need to cart around a bunch of shit to take him places and he can talk well and tell us what he wants... And now we're just going to add in another crying, pooping blob who can't communicate and won't sleep. It's like, hey, we're getting pretty good at juggling these watermelons. Why don't we add in a chainsaw? Who's dumb idea was that?

And the idea of being able to love another child as much as I love Ben... especially another boy... seems unfathomable. I know this baby is a part of our family, because when I look into my future I see more than one child sitting around the dining room table. I want Ben to have a brother. But standing on the precipice of a four-person family and this time KNOWING how much work a newborn is going to be is terrifying.

Brothers

Most of you who read this blog already know, from phone calls and Facebook, but we're having another boy! I will admit to being a little disappointed I don't get to buy cute girls' clothes, but this way we don't have to buy any new clothes and the kids can share a room (which means a sweet Leave-Mommy-Alone room for me, eventually)!

The name discussion has begun, but there are no clear front runners yet. Heath vetoed my favorite name (Finn), but I'm not giving up the fight yet. I'll start whispering it into his ear as he sleeps, so it burrows into his subconscious. Then one day he'll wake up and say those words which he's almost physically incapable of uttering, "Katie, you were right." I'll keep you posted on my progress.

I never imagined I'd be the mother of two boys. I always pictured myself with a daughter. But life throws us curve balls and having Ben has been wonderful, so I know having As-Yet-Unnamed-Boy-2 will be wonderful, as well. And I still haven't ruled out a third child, so you never know. But if Heath's right about that one, too, I'm not sure my sanity will hold.

3 x 3 x 3

I put Ben on the waiting list for pre-school last fall, on the advice of other local parents. It felt somewhat silly doing it an entire year in advance, but it's a popular school and siblings of current students get priority. It paid off, though, because we found out Ben got in! It's exciting because part of me honestly didn't think he'd get in*... But when I opened the letter my first emotion was sadness. He's so social and curious I know he's ready to be in an environment like that... But he's my baby! It's hard to believe he's ready to do something "on his own."

Over the past two and a half years I've come to learn that every transition for the kid is a transition for the parents, as well. Ben deals amazingly well with big transitions and I hope that continues for the rest of his life. It is a gift. I, on the other hand, am absolutely abysmal when it comes to transitions. (For reference see: my college years, when for the last four semesters I literally made myself sick with worry over what I'd do afterward.) Most of the time young kids lean on their parents for support. That's what parents are for. But as the kid gets older, he can take more weight and I think on this one Ben might have to support me a little. The crazy thing is, I think he can handle that.

Okay, time for a step back into the light of reality. It's the power of threes: He'll be three when he starts and he'll go to preschool three days a week for three hours. Not really a huge deal. See how I can inflate things in my mind? I know once he starts I'll love it. It means time to myself and running errands without him. By that time I'll be getting big from the pregnancy, so a break will be wonderful. And once the baby comes it'll mean time alone to get to know the new baby. Plus, time for him to get away from the new baby, if he wants. We can do this. As I, at the age of five, once told my mother, who was comforting me during scary parts of the Wizard of Oz, "It's only a movie," I'm sure Ben will say to me, "It's only preschool."


*This is all based purely on them having space for students. Ben didn't have to take tests or go through an interview or anything crazy like that.

21st Century Kid

Heath has been talking about getting a new iPod for a while, so I took Valentine's Day as an opportunity to buy it for him (coincidentally I also wanted something - The Sims 3 - which is why I haven't been posting very much lately... my sims need me!). His old one still worked perfectly fine, so I'm somewhat conflicted, but... Ben now has his own iPod.

It's not like we went out and bought Ben his own brand new iPod, but it still somehow seems wrong for a two and a half year old to have a personal computing device. I know I'll be running up against this problem for Ben's entire childhood. We'll have to make that decision on when he gets his own cell phone, which again seems ridiculous to me since I didn't have one until I was in college and even then I barely used it. I suppose I'm sounding like a parent. You kids today have it so great... In my day we didn't have cell phones and iPods. If we wanted to call someone we had to find a pay phone. What's a pay phone? Oh, go play Angry Birds some more.

And get off my lawn!

File this under, "Pandora's Box"

We only put Ben in time out for throwing toys and hitting. But this morning he was in time out four times before 8:00am. So between that and the fact that he's been gorging on sweets for the last couple weeks, when the manager of Subway gave us two free cookies (because Ben's just so cute and charming) I slipped them into the diaper bag before he could notice.

After lunch we stopped at the grocery store to pick up a few things and about halfway through the store he started yelling because he wanted M&M's. This happened last time we were there, too, so I'm afraid we might be starting a pattern. I told him we weren't going to buy M&M's, but if he was quiet until we got back to the car he could have a cookie. And as if we were bathed in heavenly light, that kid was practically silent the rest of the trip. Bribing works, apparently.

But that's one of those things I swore I wouldn't do when I was a mother. I don't want to fall back on it too often... But it worked so well. Now it's going to be in the back of my head, "Just tell him he can have a cookie. Just tell him he can have a cookie. Just tell him he can have a cookie." I've given the devil on my shoulder extra ammunition.

Happy Pukesgiving!

Our Thanksgiving was lovely. Wednesday night we ate a wonderful vegetarian dinner at Heath's parents' house with them, his brother Todd and Todd's girlfriend Sarah. Some family friends came over afterward for dessert, as is tradition. Ben was completely enamored with the plastic train/car set Nancy bought for him and spent most of the evening playing with that (it ranked above eating mac & cheese, which is really saying something). I even got to share my deviled eggs with the family for the first time, since I found mayonnaise made with free-range chicken eggs, which are the only kind Don will eat. It was a good time.

Then on Thursday we headed to my parents' house. We ate all the traditional things, including my favorite - wild rice stuffing. Yummy. After Ben went to bed Heath and I introduced my family to Shadows Over Camelot which is a complex, but really fun board game. After getting the hang of the rules I think everyone had fun. I went to bed around 11pm full and happy. Little did I know...

At 1am I heard Ben wake up. Then I heard the undeniable sound of vomiting. I jumped out of bed and sure enough, there was Ben's Thanksgiving dinner all over his pack-n-play. I patted myself on the back for bringing the sheet for it, otherwise it would've been a lot worse. Ben was actually very calm about the whole thing. He just kept talking about how he "spit." Luckily he hadn't really gotten any on his pajamas, so I cleaned him up, gave him a drink of water and brushed his teeth. Then he climbed into bed with Heath (which was a feat, since we were sleeping in two twin beds).

For the rest of the night Ben threw up about once an hour. I called the nurse line and she said there's a stomach virus going around right now, so I guess he picked it up somewhere. Obviously it wasn't a restful night for anyone. We spent the rest of the weekend sitting on the couch watching Dinosaur Train and Thomas and Friends. He's fine now.

The thing that amazes me about parenthood is how much instinct is involved. When Ben was throwing up all night I wasn't thinking about how disgusting it was or how much I wanted to be sleeping. I just did what had to be done. I cleaned up, I comforted my son. In between I dozed. Simple.

Babies vs. Toddlers

I hear a lot of mothers say in wistful, sentimental voices that they wish their kids were still babies. To that I say: Are you crazy?! (Obviously I say that in my head, or on my blog, because it'd be pretty rude to say to someone's face.) To me, having a toddler is leaps and bounds better than having a baby. Honestly, babies kind of suck. Sure, when it's someone else's baby they're totally cute and fun to hold. But the day to day upkeep of a baby, especially an older infant who's starting to become mobile but still has no sense in their head, is no fun at all.

Yes, toddlers have their moments of terror (for example, waking up at 5AM this morning). But there are so many advantages to having an older kid. He can tell me what he wants, for the most part. He can climb stairs, so I don't have to follow him around all the time. He can entertain himself while I take a shower. Plus, all the fun stuff like being able to run and play and sing and say funny, weird things that make me laugh. The older Ben gets, the more I enjoy him.

Heath and I want at least one more kid and I always thought that by now I'd have another one, or another one on the way. Having cancer is just so darn inconvenient, because the farther away I get from pregnancy and babyhood, the less I want to return. The sleepless nights, the crying, the non-communication. Not to mention 9+ months of being uncomfortable, labor and delivery. It's like this gauntlet I have to survive to get the family I want. And now I know what I'm getting myself into. That first time you think you know, but you're actually clueless. Having a second baby really takes courage.

The story of the unfavored parent

Ever since Ben was old enough to have a favorite parent (around 8-9 months, maybe?), it's been Heath. Unequivocally. And I get it. He sees me all day long and Daddy's loud and energetic and fun. For a long time it didn't bother me, because it gave me a break. But after a while it started to get to me. After all, I do almost everything for him, including giving up sushi and booze for 10+ months. I know that's a ridiculous way to look at it and it's something he probably won't appreciate for 25+ years, if ever. But my brain goes there sometimes.

Then, over the summer it started getting better. He was more willing to interact with me even while Heath was around. I began to think maybe we were at the end of this phase. But come fall, the favoritism started up again WITH A VENGEANCE. It's as bad as it ever was. He does fine with me when Heath's gone, but in the evenings and on the weekends it's All Daddy. Heath can't even go to the bathroom for 2 minutes without Ben throwing a fit. And he takes shorter naps because he knows Heath's home, so he wants to play.

Luckily Heath usually doesn't mind being the center of attention all weekend. He has the stamina to keep up with Ben and I know he misses seeing him as much during the week. And while I still appreciate the break from Ben duty, it really stings when he refuses to play with me and just cries for Daddy.

This is sort of a long winded way of explaining why I've only posted one blog entry this month. We've been going through a hard time with the favoritism and I haven't felt much like blogging about the little boy who's rejecting me at every turn. He's just as cute as ever and is talking up a storm. This is just something I need to be okay with. Especially since the woman from Parents As Teachers told me that around 2.5-3 kids usually start to identify with and favor the same sex parent. Gosh, I knew Ben was smart but I didn't realize he was that ahead of the curve.

Reunion

Last Thursday through Sunday Heath and I were in Indianapolis attending GenCon. It's a gaming convention where people get together and play board games, card games, video games and role playing games. We met our friends Arianne and Jeff there and had a blast hanging out all weekend, playing games and meeting some idols.

While Mommy and Daddy had a weekend away, Ben stayed with Oma and Opa. The last time we'd been away from him this long was in November, when we went to Hawaii. He was only 14 months old at the time and though he did fine while we were gone, after we got back he held a little grudge against all the grandparents. So it's no surprise my mother was a little concerned that the same thing would happen again.

When we walked in the door on Sunday afternoon Ben's face scrunched up and he started to cry. My mother was quick to say, "This is the first time he's cried all weekend!" He seemed unable to run over to us, but when I knelt down next to him he threw his arms around me and held on for dear life. I was exhausted from the weekend and happy to see him and very happy that he didn't push me away in favor of Heath, so I joined him with some crying of my own.

For me, missing Ben is a novelty. I'm with him so much that I never have the chance. We're more like college roommates living in a tiny dorm room. We have days we're the best of friends and we have days we're on each other's last nerve. And I have to admit, I didn't miss Ben much this weekend. I was glad to be away, doing something I wanted to do, doing something fun for me. And I know Ben had fun, too. Who can resist a weekend of being spoiled by your grandparents? But in the end, the best part of a trip is always coming home. Though that doesn't mean I won't go next year!

I'm including this picture not because it has anything to do with Ben, but because it is freaking awesome:

 Me & Wil Wheaton

Molding

 I'm sure there are times when every parent feels like he or she just isn't doing a very good job. Especially being a stay-at-home mom, I feel like I need to be creating a stimulating environment for Ben to learn and grow all the time, but it's just not possible. Sometimes dinner has to be cooked and the laundry has to be done and Ben sits in front of the TV by himself. Though I question the idea that TV is no good, because Ben isn't even 2 and he knows a lot of the alphabet partially from watching shows. But I digress...

I have a lot of those days lamenting the time lost because kids this age are such sponges and I could be teaching him calculus or French (if I knew calculus or French). However, occasionally I have days when I feel like Super Mom. Usually they coincide with days Ben's being agreeable and I'm not on my period. Yesterday was such a day, and we spent about 30 minutes playing with his 2-piece puzzles. The object is to match the item with its color, texture or pattern. Here are Ben's matches:

There are so many days when I feel completely distracted and even though Ben and I spend the entire day together, I don't feel like we really spend time together. It's wonderful when we find an activity that's fun for both of us and I can feel like raising a kind, intelligent, thoughtful, polite, curious child isn't the impossible task it sometimes seems.

Things that blow my mind

Thing 1: One day on the playground there were a couple teenagers hanging out behind some of the equipment. They weren't smoking or doing anything besides talking, so it didn't bother me. When Ben wandered over they said hi and continued their conversation while he played in the little tree house. I sat down nearby to keep an eye on him and after about a minute I realized that the teenagers really didn't want me there. They were probably 16 years old and though I may have been closer to their age than their parents' age, I was An Authority and thus cramping their style.

Thing 2: When it's raining or too hot/cold to play outside sometimes we'll go to Monkey Joe's, which has inflatable slides and bounce houses. Last time we were there I realized that they were playing all 80's and 90's music over the sound system. It made sense because that's when most of the parents were kids or teenagers and would thus appreciate the music. But it's so weird to be marketed to as a parent. I'm still not used to it.

He loves me, he loves me not...

For 9-12 months now Heath has been the obvious Favorite Parent. At first it didn't bother me at all and, in fact, I welcomed it because it meant I got a break when Heath got home. Lately, though, it's started to affect me. Ben's favoritism doesn't seem to be diminishing at all. If Heath's home Ben wants almost nothing to do with me*. Seriously, he bawls like it's the end of the world when Heath goes into the bathroom for a minute. It makes me feel like I'm some strange babysitter. I know he loves me and he clings to Heath because he doesn't see him all day. I choose to believe that since Ben and I are together all day he's extremely secure in our relationship so he takes me for granted. That only relieves a little of the sting when he's pushing me away, though.

Yesterday morning he woke up with a slight fever. Nothing worrisome. It barely got over 100 and today he's fine, but yesterday he was sluggish and just not feeling well. Before Heath left for work we were all in the kitchen. Ben walked up to me and said, "Up, up, up." Already that was strange because Heath was standing right there in Ben's line of sight and he came to me. I picked him up, figuring I was merely a vehicle to get to Heath, but he put his head down on my shoulder and snuggled in. And that's the way he stayed until Heath left. We spent much of the day on the couch watching cartoons and though I felt horribly guilty for letting him watch that much TV, it was so nice being the chosen parent for once.

Today he was back to his normal self and was barely consolable when Heath went upstairs to shower, but maybe next time he's sick I'll get another deliberate snuggle.


*Unless I'm engaged in an activity I don't want him involved in, such as cooking. Then he's all over me.