Wednesday, March 14, 2007

encouraging habits



In case you were wondering how the 18th lunaversary dinner went, here's a visual: apparently, someone enjoyed his vegan, gluten-free cake. But with that much chocolate, who wouldn't?



Little, fascinating moments have been cropping up lately - odd conversations, new fascinations - and nudging me out of complacency. Okay, out of an imperfect complacency, but that's not really the point.

*************************
a mother and child are sitting in a car. This might just have been a tactical error - it's hard to escape when one is strapped in.

Eldest: Mum, how do people die?
Vaguely Maternal Person: (surveys coffee-less, breakfastless self, considers dropping head onto steering wheel) Give me a moment, sweets. I'm not quite awake enough to answer that question.
Eldest, consideringly: Okay. I'll give you until you start driving.

Few things are as relentless as a small boy with a question. But then, of course, there's the unexpected small boy, answering questions....

*******************************
Me (pointing to self): Who is that?
Toddles: Mummy!
Me (pointing to Toddles): Who is that?
Toddles: Emmo
Translation: Elmo

long pause, as I contemplate the silent, ancient TV downstairs.

Me (pointing to Eldest): Who is that?
Toddles, gleefully: Ai-Yai!

Hm. Ai-yai-yai-yai-yai. Not so far off, some days...
**********************
and then there's educating the offspring, whereby the maternal figure teaches her children the best she has to offer.

Eldest: Mum, what was that scream upstairs?
Me (ruefully, remembering the 20 minute struggle to get the Toddles' new shoes on): a primal scream, hon. It's what you do when you are so frustrated that you have to explode.
Eldest: And you exploded in a primal scream?
Me: yup.
pause, as the Eldest digests this
Eldest: could you teach me to do that?
Me: don't think I need to, dear one. Don't think I need to.

****************************

The Man, in case you were wondering, is hiding. When he comes into the study, I make him look at wraps for sale (Nino vs didy? 4.6m vs 5?), show him YouTube clips of people wrapping, and tell him about how I tried my very first wrap.

Which, by the way, I did - I wrapped the Toddles today, and he loved it. We borrowed a moby from the sample stash at Magic Beans in Brookline, and I took it and the instructions to the play area. Every so often, I'd capture a boy and tuck him in/wrap around him. My most successful wrap was a back carrying arrangement - heaven on my back, the weight mostly on my hips, and comfy! The moby is way, way to stretchy for long-wrapping comfort (so stretchy that despite my best efforts, the Toddles was able to put air between his tum and my back - ugh), but I'm so excited to have finally tried the process. Yay!

This should be obvious as something I'd end up doing. I adore snuggling my boys - most of the time. I adore night nursing, when I'm still awake and the Toddles is delighted and silly about seeing me. It's the highlight of parenting my children. Anything for a cuddle, to get to hug warm solid happy little boyness - and then watch them tear across the room on some mysterious errand. This wrapping business is going to only egg me on, to hit me at two of my weakest points: spending money and getting cuddled. Oh, dear.

But pity the Man, who is now digging his way to freedom with a zester... Hey, hon! What do you think - a hemp-cotton mix wrap, up on the For Sale or Trade boards! Do you think I could ever learn to dye things?

Hon?

Hon?

Sigh.

2 comments:

Lois Grebowski said...

Odd conversations" Just a part of growing up...I just adore those brown eyes! He's gonna break some hearts growing up with eyes like that...Already broken mine... [sigh] Such a cutie pie!

mama o' the matrices said...

Oh, and did you notice the eylashes? Ridiculously long and thick. His father's lashes, of course..

I spend way too much time admiring my boys' aesthetics. For example, did you know that the Toddles has two kinds of eyelashes - one long and thick and black, and the other shorter, golden-red and curling? Yowza.

Dangerous children.