Hope

Today, while reading an article about a New Yorker's experience on September 11, 2001, the thought struck me: Will Ben learn about 9/11 today? Do they talk about it with kindergartners?

We've never told him, because there's never been a reason. We weren't personally affected by it and it's not exactly a conversation you have with a 3 year old.

But it got me thinking... Ben lives in a pretty nice world right now. He lives in a world without 9/11 and assassinations and Nazis and slavery and all the other atrocities committed throughout human history. But he's going to learn about those things, and probably very soon. If not this year then maybe next. And I want him to learn about them, and think critically about them and become a knowledgeable human being... But... It's just hard imagining my children learning about those things.

Ben's not nearly as sensitive to stimuli as I am, but I remember in 8th grade when we did a whole unit on WWII it was pretty emotional for me. I couldn't - and still can't, really - believe that people would do such unthinkable things for, what? Power? It makes absolutely NO sense to me. And the idea of my children feeling that hurt for people who died long ago... Well, I was going to say I didn't want them to feel that pain, but maybe I do. I want them to be empathetic people, but unfortunately that does mean taking on a lot of pain that's not directly your own.

There are hard conversations in our parenting future and while I don't love the idea of my childrens' innocence being shattered by the reality of how horrible people can be, I do relish the idea that I get to explain how we can be better than that.

The Curse of the Second Child

Sam starts preschool tomorrow. He's going two days a week from 9am-noon and he's SO EXCITED. For months every time we passed the church where it's held he'd yell out, "There's my school!"

He was supposed to start last Monday, but the air conditioner broke and wasn't fixed until late in the week. Unfortunately, by the time we found out we'd already started excitedly telling him, "You start school tomorrow!" He was pretty disappointed.

I'm having trouble with this, but not for the usual reasons. With Ben I worried and fretted for months before he started preschool. On his first day I bawled (though, in fairness I was 7 months pregnant). It was the same with Kindergarten, though in a more toned down way. But with Sam I have none of that. I was a little nervous last Sunday, before we found out school was cancelled, but nothing like with Ben. And I'm while not 100% certain, I'm pretty sure I won't shed any tears tomorrow when I drop him off. And I hate that.

I don't want to not be moved by milestones in Sam's life simply because Ben did it first. It seems so unfair to Sam. I suppose in the grand scheme of things it doesn't really matter, because I didn't fret in front of Ben and I didn't let him see me cry on those first days, so to them it's all the same. But it's not to me. I'm no less proud of Sam when he accomplishes things, but I have to admit, sometimes it is a little less exciting. It's his first time, but it's not mine as a mother.

Right now Sam emulates everything Ben does, but once he's tired of being in Ben's shadow I have a feeling he's going to be a pretty different kid. So I will have those moments that are true firsts with Sam. I just don't want him to feel like he got the short end of the stick, and I certainly don't want him to feel like Ben's the favorite.

*sigh* This parenting thing is HARD.

Welcome to Avery Kindergarten!

Ben started kindergarten almost two weeks ago and so far it's been amazing. I assumed he'd enjoy it, especially once we found out his best friend and another friend from the neighborhood were in his class. I also assumed the transition would be a little bumpy. He's never done a full-day program before, so I was expecting him to be a tired, grumpy mess when he got home from school. However, I've been very pleasantly surprised. Completely unexpectedly, his attitude actually seems to have gotten better. Over the summer there was lots of fighting with Sam and whining and throwing tantrums (yes, even 5 year olds have tantrums now and again), but now that he's in school he's playing nicer with his brother and being fairly cooperative. Nobody's perfect, so of course he still has Moments, but overall he's been very pleasant.

It was a bit baffling to me at first, but when I started thinking about it I realized that he probably just wasn't getting enough extrovert time. Over the summer we were subject to Sam's naps, which meant he spent most afternoons with only me. And by the afternoon I was jonesin' for some introvert time, so more often than not he spent afternoons playing video games by himself. Going to school and being surrounded by classmates for seven hours a day must be like a breath of fresh air for him.

The idea that being in school restores him is ALSO baffling to me, but I'm so glad for it because it allows me to restore, as well. And I think that's the other piece of the puzzle. While Ben gets his extrovert tank filled at school, I get my introvert tank filled at home while Sam naps. So when we finally come back together at 3pm we're both feeling happier and more content, which obviously leads to a more peaceful co-existence. It's lovely.

Another lovely side effect of kindergarten is that it seems to have... opened up his brain. Since about age 4 he's been pretty resistant to us teaching him anything, like reading, math, etc. But now he doesn't seem as annoyed when Heath asks him math questions or I ask him to read something. And the other morning over breakfast he and I had a GREAT conversation. It started with him asking about ice ages and over about 10 minutes it morphed into talking about climate change, the origins of humans, evolution and why people have different skin colors. It was the best conversation we've ever had and it was truly a give and take. It wasn't just me lecturing him. It was amazing and three weeks ago I never would've imagined it.

So Ben is definitely flourishing in school and it's hard for me to express in words how wonderful it is to watch. It fills my heart to see him maturing and growing into the person he will be. It's absolutely amazing.

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.

Growing up

Ben is growing up. Kindergarten registration starts next week. On one hand I'm very ready for him to go to school. As I've mentioned before, Ben and I are very different, and I think more time away will help us appreciate each other more. And Ben is totally ready, too. He loves school and he's so excited. I think he needs more social interaction than I'm providing, so school is going to be perfect for that.

On the other hand... it's that "my baby's going to kindergarten" thing. He won't actually start until August, but signing him up is the first step in putting him on that conveyor belt that will eventually take him away from me. It makes my heart hurt a little.

He's been maturing. Sometimes we can have actually interesting conversations. Most of our conversations are about Super Mario Brothers, which he finds endlessly fascinating and me not so much, but occasionally he'll ask what things mean or how things work and when I explain he actually GETS IT. That's fun.

He can also be a big help with Sam. At dinner last Sunday Sam didn't want to eat any more of his hot dog. Heath and I both tried to no avail. So Ben grabbed the fork, pretended it was a train and got Sam to eat!

And now that we've entered a tantrum-y phase with Sam, Ben seems to have sensed that I can't handle two kids who are acting up. So he's been more obedient and helpful lately, which is AWESOME. Especially because he's getting big enough to do actual helpful things. He can get a snack for himself and Sam, he can pour milk, he can wash his own hands, dress himself, brush his own teeth. It's really neat to watch him become more independent, and to see his pride when he accomplishes something all by himself. He's been practicing tying his shoes and though he's not quite there yet, he's been getting better and it makes me proud to see him keeping at it, even when it's frustrating.

School age is the time I've been looking forward to since Ben was born. They're independent and can handle most self care on their own, but they're not so old that they don't want to hang out with you. I'm sure there will still be hurdles and plenty of frustrations, but I'm hoping it's going to be more fun and enjoyable than the baby/toddler stage.

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.

My turn

In Ben, Heath has a mini-me. Their personalities and the way they think are pretty much the same. I've often been envious of that, but it does mean that when Ben does something annoying that I just know Heath would've done as a kid I get to say, "This is YOUR fault." :)

Well, Heath will probably get to turn the tables in the next few years, because since turning one, Sam has revealed that he's a lot like me. He's sensitive. If another kid is crying, even someone he doesn't know, he seems concerned and will even go over and try to help. It's especially evident if Ben's upset.

Sam definitely seems more introverted than Ben or Heath. He can entertain himself and he seems content on his own for a while. My patented method of getting Ben to come with me, which basically just involves me leaving the room, doesn't work as well with Sam. Sometimes he'll come running after, but sometimes he's just like, "Whatever. I wanted some privacy anyway."

It's interesting to watch how Sam changes depending on who's home. If Heath and Ben are there he runs around like a crazy person, wanting to keep up with them. But if it's just the two of us he's much calmer and quieter and more likely to focus on something.

It's exciting to think of having a kid more like me. I love Ben dearly and am amazed by the things he says and does, but our personalities clash in a lot of ways and it's very hard for me to deal with the constant talking. Just like Heath, he brings things into my life that I never would've done or seen on my own, but it'll be wonderful to have a child with whom I can just share comfortable silence.

Bubbloso

I'm not good at being Present. Being In The Moment. I'm always in my head, planning, worrying, thinking about my to-do list. It's a quality that makes me a good organizer, but it doesn't always come in handy as I'm parenting. One of the things people most often say when you have a baby is, "Cherish this time. They won't be this small forever." But most of the mothers (at least first time mothers) I know get too bogged down in the day-to-day exhausting minutia of caring for a baby, a toddler, a preschooler, to really enjoy what's happening right in front of them. I do, at least. Especially in the past few years I've tended to focus on the negative and my brain just gets stuck there.

Well, I knew it was time for a change when I realized that my negativity was starting to annoy me. I was getting sick of my own carousel of thoughts that just went round and round and did nothing for me. So recently I've been trying to make a concerted effort to change my thinking habits. To enjoy fun, happy times as they're happening. Not necessarily documenting them for posterity, but just being joyful in the moment.

Over the weekend we went to a birthday party where the boys each received huge bubble wands. So yesterday afternoon we headed to the backyard to try them out. I wasn't expecting much. Ben usually gets sick of blowing bubbles pretty quickly and Sam just gets mad when I won't let him stick the soap in his mouth. But this time both Ben and Sam were content to let me be the bubble master. As I filled the air with huge bubbles I realized that this was A Moment. I willed myself to mentally put down the to-do list and simply exist with my boys. I listened to Sam erupt into giggles every time a wave of bubbles came for him. I watched Ben stick out his arms and fly through the bubbles as a plane. I gazed at the blue, blue sky and enjoyed the shade of our backyard. I tried really hard to ignore the fact that my hand was getting all sticky from the bubble solution.

Overall, I think I succeeded. Admittedly, I did start writing this blog post in my head before we were even done playing, but I think it helped me take notice of details I might not have otherwise. And admittedly, I got bored with the bubbles long before they did. But I had a lot of fun imagining that what I had wasn't a plastic stick and some soap, but a magic wand creating bubbles out of thin air.

PTO mom

I have become a PTO mom. It's bizarre because I never envisioned myself being a stay-at-home mom who goes to PTO meetings. Even typing that I have a sort of visceral negative reaction. PTO moms are super bubbly and annoying and they only live vicariously through their children. And I've met some people like that, but most of the people I've met have been pretty down to earth and just want to invest some time and energy into their child's education. Some have even been people I'd like to hang out with.

So I volunteered to help organize Ben's school's trivia night, which is the biggest fundraiser of the year. I didn't quite know what I was getting into, but Heath and I love trivia nights and have been to quite a few, so I thought my "expertise" could help. It pretty much took over my life for the past few months, which explains the dearth of posts here, but now it's OVER and I don't feel like I have an anvil hanging over my head. It was a very successful evening and everyone seemed to have fun. I definitely won't be in charge next year, but I'll help and maybe in a few years, once I've forgotten all the stress it caused me, I might volunteer to organize one again. I suppose in that way it's like having a baby. After a while you forget all the horribleness and that's what allows you to want another one.

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.

Communication 101

One of the hard things about caring for a baby is not being able to communicate in any significant way. The only way for him to get his point across is crying, which is super annoying for the parents. Now that Sam's a full-fledged toddler we're making some strides in that department. He's to the point where he understands a lot of what we say. So if I say "milk" he looks at the refrigerator and if I say, "Do you want to turn the light on?" (one of his favorite activities at the moment) he looks at the light switch. Sometimes if I ask him to do something ("Come here," "Hand me the fork," "STOP!") he'll even do it. It's awesome!

He's not talking yet, though he's starting to parrot some of the sounds I make. The first I noticed was "All done!" He says something that sounds remarkably like it (to me), but there's no meaning behind it yet. He says it all the time, even when he's obviously not "all done." But even without real words, he's definitely communicating. He'll grunt and point at the bananas when he wants one (which is all the time), he'll try to lunge from my arms when he wants to get down, he'll stand by my legs and lift his arms when he wants to get up. Again, it's awesome.

We're also to that less-awesome toddler stage of EVERYTHING NEEDS TO BE ON THE FLOOR NOW! Drawers and shelves aren't safe. Not that we have much of anything on shelves anymore. The lone surviving bookshelf in the house is in our bedroom and I have to monitor it very closely when Sam's in the room. I said, "Those are Mommy's books. Mommy's books stay on the shelf." about 1,000 times this morning while I was getting dressed. And since I still can't trust Sam in the house by himself while I shower he pulls every last towel off the shelf in the bathroom EVERY SINGLE DAY.

The good thing with second kids is that you have concrete evidence that it's just a phase. Ben doesn't pull my nicely folded towels off the shelf anymore. He can even put books BACK onto shelves now (though ability has no connection to willingness). It's still not fun to put towels away after every shower, but I can breathe and know that eventually it will end.

Gender Bending

As I posted a few weeks ago, I painted Ben's toenails at his request. Only minutes after I finished he wistfully said, "I wish we could paint our fingernails, too." Since Uncle Todd and Aunt Sarah's wedding was the next day, and I wasn't sure how they'd like a ring bearer with red fingernails, I told Ben we could do it after the wedding. I wasn't sure he'd remember, but he did, so the next week I painted his fingernails red. A few days after that I was going through my jewelry box and found an anklet I'd forgotten I had, so I put it on. Ben saw that and asked for one, too. I found a bracelet that would fit around his ankle and there we were: Mother and son with painted nails and matching anklets.

This is something that would probably make a lot of people uncomfortable, but I'm actually having the opposite reaction. I'm giddy because my son is asking for things based on his interest and enjoyment. It's another one of those proud mothering moments, because it means that so far I've been able to stick to my morals and not restrict Ben's idea of gender. That's something that's very important to me, because I don't want my children to be restricted by what's between their legs. Sexism is bad for men as well as women, because it puts everyone into these little boxes that don't necessarily have anything to do with what we're really like as individuals. And I'll admit, with Ben's love of trains and cars and construction equipment I was kind of afraid I'd completely lost him to "stereotypical boy land." There's absolutely nothing wrong with those things, but I was concerned that I hadn't done enough to make it clear that he can play with or be whatever he wants. But apparently I was wrong.

It's not like he got his nails painted and suddenly only wanted to play tea party with dolls. No, he got his nails painted and then promptly got them all chipped up running around on the playground like a crazy person. He just wanted pretty nails while he did it. And I've been very pleased with the reactions he's gotten, which have either been positive or none at all. There's been only one negative reaction and that was from a girl in playgroup who said boys can't have painted nails. Ben reported that to me, but didn't seem phased by it and when she said it again in my presence I just simply said that anyone can have their nails painted.

I feel very hipster, liberal feminist for being so proud of this... But I always wonder if my boys are catching on to what's important to me, and it makes me happy to know that in this instance Ben has. That being said, he's not even four yet, so I've had it pretty easy. He's gone to one year of preschool, but it's a very nurturing school and his best friend at school ALSO paints his nails, so we haven't come up against much gender stereotyping yet. And maybe we won't. We live in a pretty liberal area (though in a conservative state), so I doubt too many people would make a stink about a boy's painted nails. We'll see. At this point pretty much all the polish has chipped off and he hasn't asked for more, so perhaps it was just a one-time thing. But at least he knows that if he wants some in the future he can ask.

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.

A pat on my back

As a stay-at-home mom it can be very difficult to know when I'm doing a good job. After all, what is my job? It's to raise my children and help them become good people. That's not exactly a goal that gives me weekly progress reports and promising statistics. It's very hard to quantify "turning someone into a decent human being."

Honestly, most days I feel like I'm doing an awful job. I let Ben play the iPad too much. Sam's clothes are always covered in spit up and drool. I'm not consistent enough in my rules and punishments. I never come up with fun games or projects or adventures for us to do. I yell and get annoyed too often. There's no boss to swing by my desk and tell me she likes my work (and I'm getting a raise!). So I take my solace where I can get it, if Ben says "Thank you" without a prompting, or if I make Sam laugh.

But sometimes I get a big thumbs up from the universe. Ben's been taking soccer classes all year and recently graduated up to the class without a parent. We get to watch and I've been utterly delighted. Not by his soccer skills, but because he's one of the best behaved kids in the class. He always listens to the teacher, follows directions and he rarely runs off to do his own thing. It makes me proud to watch him out there. Proud of him for being such a good student and proud of me because I DID THAT.

Comparisons

I suppose this is a problem all parents of two or more children have, but I'm having a tough time talking about Sam without comparing him to Ben. Sam dislikes wet diapers; Ben never minded. Sam hates the car seat and often screams on car trips; Ben always fell asleep. Sam weighs 12 lbs at two months; Ben weighed 16.

It's almost impossible not to compare. Ben's the only other infant I've had prolonged exposure to, so it feels natural to think about his milestones as Sam reaches them himself. I don't think any of it is judgemental, but it doesn't seem like a good habit. I don't see myself becoming the, "Why can't you be more like your brother?" mom, but you never exactly know what kind of parent you'll turn out to be.

Part of the reason it's so hard not to compare them is because I can already tell they're different. It's amazing to me that two kids from the same parents could be so different. Obviously I know it's true because my brothers and I are all different in significant ways. But it seems stranger when it's your own children. However, it's been so fun to watch the mix of Heath and me emerge in Ben. It'll be interesting to see what our second mixture is like.

But look at these pictures:

Ben at three months

Sam at almost three months

Same outfit, same chair, same withering stare. They look like brothers.

Playing favorites

Fairly recently my mother reminded me about one of my biggest complaints in childhood. I had actually forgotten about it, but as a kid it always really bothered me that I didn't have a "partner" in our family. My parents had each other. My brothers had each other. I felt left out.

Remembering that feeling made me realize that I was feeling the same thing watching Ben favor Heath all these years. I've felt left out of my own family. And having to take care of a newborn 24-7 hasn't been winning me popularity points with Ben. When we first brought Sam home Ben reverted back to his worst bout of favoritism. He wanted absolutely nothing to do with me, to the point of crying even when Heath just went to the bathroom. As he's getting more used to our "new normal" it's gone back to an almost tolerable level of favoritism, but it still stings. Especially since I can't spend one-on-one time with him while Heath's at work anymore.

It makes total sense that Ben would favor Heath. Heath has more energy, he's loud and fun and he sings silly songs all the time. Ben and Heath also have a lot of similar interests and a similar mindset. I'm reserved and prefer reading or coloring or playing quiet games to running around like a crazy person (which is often what Ben and Heath do). I think (and hope) that I'll be the one Ben turns to when he needs quiet in his life, but I really can't imagine a time when I'll be his favorite.

And that's where it gets tough for Sam, because I'm really hoping he's "mine." I know it's a possibility that he'll gravitate toward Heath... But I'm openly and un-apologetically stating that I want him to be an introvert and prefer me. It's completely unfair to put those hopes on him, but I'm already the odd one out because I'm female. I don't want to be the only introvert and the un-favored parent in the family, too.


Sam's only seven weeks old and he doesn't even recognize us on sight yet, so I still have a few months before he could even feasibly pick a favorite. And who knows, he might not pick one. Not all kids do and some go back and forth during different phases of their life. But if he picks Heath it's going to be very tough for me.

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.

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.

Mr. Happy

Despite my previous post about his aggressive behavior, Ben is actually a very friendly person. He's much friendlier than I am. He takes after Heath in that way. If we arrive at the playground and there are no other people there, he doesn't want to play. However, when there are other kids he says, "There's my friends!" Even if we've never met them. To Ben, everyone is a friend. He says hello to everybody and can usually get a smile out of even the surliest teenage boy. And as far as older people go... Sheesh, they're putty in his hands.

As much as I don't relish the thought of being the only introvert in the house, I'm glad Ben is so outgoing. Ever since I was very young that's always what I've wanted to change about myself, because it makes life so much easier to be an extrovert. Ben is cheerful and charismatic and affectionate. He's forever doling out hugs at the end of playgroup (which is so freaking adorable) and sharing his snacks with his friends. I think he's going to be one of those annoying people who everyone likes.