erev shabbat thoughts

Since I seem to blog on Fridays (how?), here are my pre-shabbat thoughts of the week.

Thought One:
It can't be coincidence that babies learn to crawl right around when they have separation anxiety. I'm guessing the two feed on each other. Here's how I think it plays out, and I apologize for the unsubtle phrasings and aggressive punctuation in the following scene, but heckfire - babies are like that.

Small person, watching his mama move away from him: Hey! That's mine! I need that. (incoherent growl) I'm gonna go get that!

Small person moves towards maternal heels, one hand outstretched to grab the maternal skirt as it swishes by. Misses. Small body regroups, mutters to itself in thankfully incomprehensible irritated baby babble, and tries again.

Scene concludes either with success or the deployment of that most fierce weapon in the infant arsenal: the wail of rage and despair.
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Thought Two: My first son liked toys. Colored wood, plain wood, the odd bit of plastic. This one likes nontoys. Drawstrings on my pants, paper in the garbage can. cardboard in the recycling bin, ants from the (sigh) floor.

Both of them, however, like to play with the height adjuster on my chair, and especially liked chewing on wires. Whoops! There goes my mouse - ergh.

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Challenge of the Month: To teach my parents that you don't need to indicate that you qualify as a concerned loving parent by asking about my PhD. Or whatever the newest variant of the question may be. To teach myself to not bang my head against things (especially in public) when my parents ask this question. Also, to find a response other than an inarticulate, infuriated roar.

Chances of either happening: slim. But this particular routine's getting old, people. Worse, it's out of date. With so many other wonderful things happening in my life there's rich pickings for the 'what's going on' question. Ah, the heck with it. I'll just go find a nice wall for the next time they call.

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Shabbat shalom, all. May this weekend bring rest to your homes and not too much guilt as you celebrate the mamas in your life. I'm offering up here a special thought for the joyous, nearly-done gestating one, who will likely spend this weekend suspended between impending motherhood and an awareness that her parenting has already begun. And also for my friend and her daughter with leukemia, who are home with their family for Mother's Day. I can only begin to imagine the cascade of emotion that they are all going to be feeling this weekend. Mother's Day for me, when my eldest was more medically unstable, was a specific mixture of joy, sadness and hope. Now it's a simpler thing, as indicated by the cards my partner has on his bedside table (nice job being subtle, man!), possibly with the pedi I suggested as the Thoughtful Gift.

And that's all, folks! The newly crawling, anxious/determined baby is pulling on my shirt. As good a cue as any...

Upcoming: a post on maternal linguistics