Growing points / sticking points
I am starting to be ready to be done with nursing. The problem is that I knew going into nursing a toddler that weaning could become a battleground for the toddler will, so I planned to stick with it longer and basically go towards child-led weaning. But I’m finding that I really am getting tired of it - not just on a practical sort of level, but on a visceral level. It’s starting to get closer to tripping switches on body integrity and I really don’t want to get to the point that we have some kind of triggered meltdown.
So lately I have been negotiating with Noah a bit around it - offering milk or water, the same way we stopped nursing in public. So far he’s able to be distracted about 1/3 of the time, which is at least a 1/3 improvement. I’ve also started pointing out that mummy and daddy don’t nurse, and big boys and girls don’t nurse. Unfortunately today I think he actually “got” that explanation - and immediately demanded to latch on for a good 20 minute nurse. Hmmm.
Same thing with the potty, really. He has one and has removed his diaper to sit on it and even peed off the edge. Then he decided he was not interested and now if I put it out, he picks it up and puts it under the kitchen table. Which is fine; I’m not too worried about potty learning at 22 mos of age.
But both these things have me suspecting that Noah has inherited or acquired Carl’s oppositional defiance and I am starting to worry about what our family will look like, then, if there are two people whose first reaction to any feeling of being requested, pushed, or enticed towards something is to never. ever. do. that. Fortunately both also genuinely like to help people.
~~~
For the first time in a long time I had to step away from the computer yesterday and go throw the ball around the yard a bit. Someone was insisting to me that God has specific, personal plans for everyone and that it is just my lack of divine capacity that prevents me from seeing the plan God had for Emily to die. Even going so far as to point out that maybe Noah was the plan. Grr. I don’t think I am ever going to get past intolerance for that point of view.
~~~
I never thought I would see the day that I started to think Noah might just cheerfully go off to daycare/montessori/preschool/whatever. But we were at Ikea (not to shop really; we have been chauffering Carl from meeting to meeting right now and this was between meetings) and Noah saw some other kids in one of the play areas (he’s too young for the play drop off area) and just - took off. So I waited for him to look for me. Never really did. HmmmMMMMmmmm.
Characteristics
And, as a side note, I really believe children come with their own personalities that are uniquely theirs. Also a lot of behavioural traits are just developmental stages.
Even so, one of the joys of having children (and I don’t think they have to be biologically yours to play, although that’s a traditional requirement) is to speculate on which aspects are related to you. In our system, even, we play it, so here’s some of our imaginative leaps about Noah’s current personality traits.
Noah continues to be amazingly extroverted; other kids, especially, seem to gladden his heart and bring him deep wonder. I think everyone in the system would turn and point to me for this one and I think that’s true; in that, he is very like me.
Noah’s favourite foods are lima beans (he seems to think they are like candy and when they show up in dishes he digs through the dish to eat them all first), fruit of all kinds, other beans of all kinds, broccoli, and lemon cookies. I would say he pretty much has Lyria’s taste in food. Although he has recently discovered ketchup too.
Noah also has this elephantine memory. An an example: before Carl left on his trip we had to go to the driver’s licence place. Friday we had to go back on Carl’s behalf although Carl couldn’t come along, and Noah hit the door and started getting upset and saying “daddy!” Finally I sorted out that he thought Carl was leaving on a trip. But really just about everything is like this with Noah, and he remembers where everything is in the house - seriously. If I lose something I just ask him and 9/10 of the time he takes me to it. I would say this is very much like Lynn. (And Carl, but we are playing the game in system :))
Also like Lyria &/or Lynn: Noah is pretty sensitive to people’s moods. Now that he’s talking more and more he often will tell me if someone’s hurt, angry, sad, happy, etc. Sometimes I have no idea if he’s right though.
And he loves his body, which again I think is like me… before society got hold of me anyway.
First we take Manhattan, then we take Berlin
Yesterday afternoon Carl, Noah, and I headed down to Yorkville to catch the Leonard Cohen paintings. Yorkville is the ritzy shopping district (on one side of the street: Dolce; on the other, Gabbana) and also where I spent most of the time I spent skipping classes in my youth (ahhhh the advantages of the downtown private school…). Except then there was a flagship Laura Ashley store, and I liked the dresses there, but I digress.
The sidewalks are made for hanging out and seeing and being seen: the four beautiful, fashionable, and thin women on their cell phones outside the spa; the pink Bugaboos coming out of Whole Foods. And the stores are rich and divine: Paper Things, a project of the friends of the National Ballet of Canada; the relocated Maison de la Presse with its foreign rags (not just newspapers but every edition of Vogue, etc.).
Noah traipsed along as if he owned the place, awed by the steps, brick surfaces, and especially the bull statue. Carl, who likes art and some walking around, but could probably do without downtown ever if you could just move Roy Thompson Hall and the AGO and a few other artsy spots to the ‘burbs, commented a few times that Noah is definitely like me in personality. Although I think a lot of it is just toddler stuff, I also have a suspicion that Carl is right, and that Noah and I will have a lot of little urban adventures together and Noah will leave as soon as possible for a ratty apartment over a store on Bloor West or something. But we’ll see. :)
He was well-behaved while we went through the Drabinsky Gallery. Lynn particularly liked seeing (prints of) Leonard Cohen’s handwriting on some of the works, and the paintings were perfectly fine for what they were, which is really LC memorabilia. They had that sort of twist of seeing that imbues his poetry and music but I’m not sure we would have brought any home, even without budget constraints. It was still really nice to have the chance to look at them.
Afterwards we strolled back through Yorkville and I finally, after having put it on hold one zillion times, gave in my downtown gym membership. (It was worth putting on hold since it cost $17.95/mo; one of those introductory prices you never get again.)
I really felt a little panicked about it, like I was giving up a link to former, childfree health or something; I had an intense wave of nostalgia for the days I could just go to the gym without arranging childcare or worrying about nap schedules; could meet a friend and hang out or browse after. Those times will come again, sort of, but for now it felt a little rough. Condemned to the suburban gym with daycare, should Noah ever be willing to stay there. But the truth of the matter is that unless I suddenly get a job downtown (which, as I didn’t get dream job - so much for the Secret!) it’s just not going to happen.
But then we took Noah to Spring Rolls, more for the ritual than anything (there is better Thai in the area) and he was great. It’s a busy place, even at the insanely early hour of 5 pm Sat, and it didn’t bother him. Another spot I used to picture myself in with Emily and another sort of regaining moment.
Everywhere we went there were a few babes and toddlers and kids and I was freshly reminded that Toronto is generally kid-friendly. Every time I go downtown I feel better, and yet I get down there rarely still. Hmmm. Although next weekend… well that’s another post.
It was a perfect sort of afternoon for me though. Although driving back I was talking a little bit about my total creative crisis and Carl… fell asleep. (Obviously, I was driving.) I think there’s a lesson in there about how repetitive my crises are, but hey.
Got home and the power had been off for three hours; it finally came back on in time to just nudge Noah awake and have to restart most of the bedtime routine. Still, it was a very nice Toronto day.
My baby is speeshul-itis
I know I will look back on this post and laugh.
But one thing I really like about Noah’s personality is that he has a pretty long attention span. Sometimes this causes problems, like when he wants to continue to explore something where he really can’t, or the fact that it is very, very hard to redirect him because he doesn’t forget his first idea, no matter how dangerous. Still, I think if this is not a phase, his attention span will serve him well in the future.
So this morning we were at the zoo. And we were having an amazing time with the seals, because they were very active (as were a lot of the animals; it wasn’t hot) and we had a good spot in the tank-watching area, where seals would swim right up against the glass and Noah would get excited, and so on and so forth. For about 40 minutes. Because when my baby is watching seals, he is watching seals and you should let him do that.
Meanwhile, around us, and in every corner of the zoo, chaos ranged. Now I realize that elementary school kids on field trips are their own unique species and all that. But what I did not like was how the teachers and parents with them were dragging/rushing/pushing them, exhorting them to move quickly - quickly boys! - past each exhibit.
Some kids, of course, were running everywhere, wild. That bothers me only a little - our zoo, generally, is designed for running about, outdoors especially. But the way truly curious kids were getting shut down, that bothered me. Kids would stop to look only to be herded along in the name of - whatever. Getting to lunch? Getting through the entire zoo in 4 hours?
It bothered me. I do realize things will be different then, etc. etc. But it still bothered me, all that curiosity getting pushed around via a schedule.
On having a boy, so far
People who read my blogger pregnancy journal might remember that I was a bit sad when it turned out Noah was a boy. Glad too. But sad. And a little more nervous than that post sounds, I think. At least that is how I remember it.
Well I am loving having a boy, so far. Of course we aren’t really into the “look mom a booger!” stage or the socialization of other boys stage or the teenage boy stage. But this is what I have learned: I may not be knowledgeable about having a boy, or even about boys in general. But I do know Noah and that is the key. And Noah is yes, loud and wild some of the time but he is also gentle and generous.
Moments
Friday I had an almost perfect moment and I just wanted to share & record it.
I took Noah down to the playground at Silverbirch Ave & the beach. This is a particularly nice playground on hot days because the whole thing is shaded by trees, and it is lakeside, so it gets a breeze off the lake. It sits on a rise over the canoe club boathouse. Also, being in the Beaches, it’s quite easy to park a little north and get a decaff organic free trade coffee and a blue cheese and walnut muffin on the way, which I just happened to do.
Noah made a beeline for the sandbox, which has a bunch of big trucks in it left by people decluttering their homes, some of them the fantastic Tonka sort with the sharp rusty metal edges and levers that really work. He and I filled buckets of sand and talked truck “dat?” “that’s an axle.” “dat?” “that’s a blade” Dat? “That’s a…. engine thingy.” And then some other little kids were playing and he went to parallel dig with them and I sat on the edge of the sandbox and drank my coffee and looked out over the water and watched a flock of geese land and swim about.
It was absolutely joyful. This is what the part-time work is all about. Because on the weekends that playground is mayhem.
~~~
Leonard Cohen has an exhibit of his visual art and some scribblings in town (through to June 10) and we are so going, at least once.
~~~
I’m packing up another wave of outgrown clothes, carefully folding, boxing, and labelling. Right now, thanks to hand-me-downs, I have clothing from newborn to 3X in my house, as if I’m running a little consignment shop. I actually have had to buy shelves to put the boxes on.
Each time I put a piece of clothing in the box I turned the question of another child over in mind (yes, I know I called a moratorium). I think it would make my life a lot harder for a few years, especially given Carl’s work schedule, and I really am not sure about the stress of that. And yet there was nothing in me that wanted to give that clothing away or wasn’t picturing taking it out again for another baby.
Friday may have had a lot to do with this.
I still miss Emily though. I have a box down there labelled girl clothes, too. It’s funny how I just get more and more pissed off that she doesn’t get to do these things, that I don’t get to know her the way I get to know Noah. Some of the sharpness passes but the dull edge sometimes gets hammered home awfully hard.