Yesterday Mabel and I met some friends at the park. It was a gorgeous day-- one with high temps, lots of little kids cavorting about the playground, and activity everywhere we turned. We eventually grabbed the kiddos from the playground area (after Mabel's tenth or eleventh time down the slide) and put them in the strollers so we could chat about some stuff for my friend's upcoming writing course, for which I am flattered to help out. Both of our little ones sat while we talked, taking up the gorgeous sights and sounds of the historic park around them.
I had put Mabel's pink hat with the chin- tie on her as to avoid sunburn (she was also covered in SPF-- but with that little sweet apple face you can never be too careful). Somewhere in the transfer of playground to stroller, she either got the hat off and dropped it, or I took it off and left it on the ground. Because we have a sun shield on the stroller, I didn't even notice the absent hat until we were across the street in the lot, packing up the car to take off for home. I felt a pang of devastation when I saw the hat was gone-- I knew looking for it on those expansive park grounds, with a toddler at my shins, would be an unwieldy process to the say the least. Alas, we let the hat go.
As I drove back onto the highway, I couldn't stop thinking about this stupid hat. Trust me- we have lost our share of baby items over these 14 months-- a "Luvy" blanket, a car seat toy, a snow boot-- and I have always chalked it up to the nature of parenthood and haven't really cared. So what was it about this hat?
The hat was a plain one, rose- colored. I'm not even particularly a pink person, so it certainly wasn't the aesthetics of it that was making me sad. My aunt gave Mabel the hat, but she has given Mabel lots of clothes... so it wasn't a sentimental "the only thing you've got from your grand- aunt!" reaction. And we've got three other tie- hats at home. So what was it??
I kept driving, and next to me on the passenger seat was the diaper bag I had brought with us to the park. I glimpsed Mabel's sunglasses sitting near the top of the side pocket. And I immediately thought of the first time we brought Mabel down to Newport-- she was three months old, still using one of those Bumbo chairs. She wore a new pretty little royal blue jumper, her sunglasses, and... her pink hat. It was the first time she wore the hat. After that day, we took Mabel on a lot of firsts in that hat: first time at the beach, to the pool, and out in the yard to play. And that's when I had a sort of epiphany: the hat was Mabel when she was a baby, and now she's a toddler. The loss of the hat was weirdly symbolic, a la Holden giving his little sister his red hunting hat in The Catcher in the Rye. I was nearly choked up. The hat was gone, somewhere on the fields, for someone to find and probably throw in the garbage bin. My sweet little baby, that sweet little hat-- it's all... disappearing.... so very, very fast.
I told my mom once that Mabel's growing and learning new skills kind of made me emotional-- and a little gloomy. She was confused. "She's turning into a such a fun little girl! You should be happy!" she pointed out sensibly. And of course I'm glad to see Mabel do new things and change. Of course I want her to make discoveries. But there is this crazy sentimental tag attached to those first few months-- when she was a stranger in our house- a teeny- tiny teddy bear of a stranger. We didn't know what we were doing, but the newness of it! It was amazing, and if you know me, you know I HATE the word "amazing." But is there a word more fitting? Every time we left the house with her and did something new-- be it a trip to the grocery market or a meal at the deli-- it was an adventure. Mabel's teeny (though big!) infant eyes would sometimes open and look around, and sometimes she would just sleep. It was all so beautiful and insane and novel and scary and difficult and awesome. And the hat was those days. The hat was that little sleepy teddy bear.
Somehow the hat still fit her as of late, which surprised me. It was great as an infant (was probably huge on her back then), and yet still covered Mabel perfectly these past few weeks for outdoor play at day care. Since I didn't know I cared about the hat, I was sending her to day care with it in case she got dirty. We wouldn't wreck any of the nice new ones before summer. The hat has left us. I feel a wistful longing for the hat, but I had to swallow hard and accept it was gone. Mabel needs to start wearing her new yellow and white hat, which is slightly larger, even though she will need to grow into that one too. She is growing into that hat as I type. And soon, that one will blow away or be tossed into the charity bin. This whole transformative thing is really something I am going to have to get used to.
Monday, April 29, 2013
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
Plagiarizing
All I can say is an honest OMG. And that's between laughs.
My coworker recommended a Tumblr called "Reasons My Son Is Crying." (http://reasonsmysoniscrying.tumblr.com/)
If anyone actually reads this blog, please, please visit that site. Future me, go back to the site and have some hearty laughs.
Basically, this guy or lady (I am bad and didn't read the profile) created this collection of ridiculous reasons why his own baby would cry-- with accompanying pictures. Other people now submit theirs.
The tone of the reason-- coupled with this picture of a kid wailing his little arse off-- is often very direct and dry. Ex: (with pic of kid on plane) "We are not free to move about the cabin."
It's a relief of a reminder that parents are, as the cliche dictates, all in this together, and these little monsters cry at the weirdest times. Mabel has just recently started these little temper tantrums-- tears when shiz gets taken away from her, or when she can't, say, climb up the fireplace. The wailing is sometimes grating, but now that I have seen her do it, I am onto her! There's a stark difference between the "I am honestly hurt" cry and that for which she has decided to be a brat.
To completely plagiarize the idea of this Tumblr, I thought I would share a few reasons Mabel has cried as of late:
~ She was not allowed to color the carpeted stairs with a green and a brown crayon.
~ I was upstairs and she was downstairs (being watched by J, of course).
~ She was not allowed to carry a raw, uncleaned potato around the house.
~ She was not allowed to go to the basement.
~ We would not let her keep her hands in the freezer.
~ She was not allowed to eat a flower from the yard.
~ I did not let her dump a carton of puffs on the carpet.
More to come!
My coworker recommended a Tumblr called "Reasons My Son Is Crying." (http://reasonsmysoniscrying.tumblr.com/)
If anyone actually reads this blog, please, please visit that site. Future me, go back to the site and have some hearty laughs.
Basically, this guy or lady (I am bad and didn't read the profile) created this collection of ridiculous reasons why his own baby would cry-- with accompanying pictures. Other people now submit theirs.
The tone of the reason-- coupled with this picture of a kid wailing his little arse off-- is often very direct and dry. Ex: (with pic of kid on plane) "We are not free to move about the cabin."
It's a relief of a reminder that parents are, as the cliche dictates, all in this together, and these little monsters cry at the weirdest times. Mabel has just recently started these little temper tantrums-- tears when shiz gets taken away from her, or when she can't, say, climb up the fireplace. The wailing is sometimes grating, but now that I have seen her do it, I am onto her! There's a stark difference between the "I am honestly hurt" cry and that for which she has decided to be a brat.
To completely plagiarize the idea of this Tumblr, I thought I would share a few reasons Mabel has cried as of late:
~ She was not allowed to color the carpeted stairs with a green and a brown crayon.
~ I was upstairs and she was downstairs (being watched by J, of course).
~ She was not allowed to carry a raw, uncleaned potato around the house.
~ She was not allowed to go to the basement.
~ We would not let her keep her hands in the freezer.
~ She was not allowed to eat a flower from the yard.
~ I did not let her dump a carton of puffs on the carpet.
More to come!
Tuesday, April 23, 2013
My Week with a Sunrise
Last week I was on vacation from work. Mabel and I were buds, hanging out together each day and enjoying the beginnings of spring. Flowers are blooming in our yard (planted by previous owners-- while I wish I were, I simply am not [yet] a green thumb), and we delighted in time on the slide and playing with beach toys. Mabel also accompanied me on errands- to Target, the post office, AutoZone, to name a few-- and was a fabulous lunch date at Panera.
The week's placidity was certainly broken by the despicable Marathon bombings. J and I became coverage- obsessed (I blogged once before about my need to know it all when it comes to these tragedies-- how it's an odd coping mechanism for me, but one that strangely works). But we all went to bed Thursday unaware of what would transpire in the wee hours of Friday-- a more- than- city- wide manhunt, a multi- community lockdown, and a state of raw anxiety for people living in those towns-- as well as for the onlookers-- the folks like us watching from afar. It was an honest relief when I gave Mabel lunch and put Sesame Street on for her. She lit up, as she always does, when she heard "Sunnny days, sweeping the clouuuuds away!" Mabel had no idea what was going on in the background of Abby Cadabby's Flying Fairy School and Elmo's World. I longed to be her, actually, in that the ignorance was bliss, and I enjoyed a carefree hour with her until we had to get into the car. Every radio station-- every single one-- aired news coverage, and there we were back in the mire. Don't get me wrong-- there was a twisted excitement to the ordeal, and I was bummed we were away from the TV when we had to go to a charity event that evening, but being away from it all was also sort of freeing by the 5th day.
But as everyone knows, they got the guy. The city and the state and the nation came together to support Beantown. The Red Sox gave a great tribute, and the Bruins did too. Bradley Cooper came to victims' bedsides. The governor and even the Vice- President of the country attended funerals. Donation funds were organized and have raised unfathomable amounts of money for victims. Memorials have been erected, flags flew at half- staff, and people have commemorated the deceased and injured on Twitter and Facebook. But now, as it's all over, people have to just go on. Parents have to live without the children they lost; adults and kids alike have to learn to walk without legs. People must return to the city for work, and we must keep at our daily routines. It's got to be the hardest part now. Grief has surely set in its purest form, and onward people have to go, despite the fear and terror and despair. When I think of these victims and their families, I hope they get to experience some "human sunrises," as Maya Angelou wrote about, and that I blogged about once before. I suppose it's all they've got.
And so while I don't want to insinuate in ANY way that I was gravely affected by what happened, I do want to say that on a much lesser scale, Mabel was my human sunrise all week. What joy there was in seeing her play, knowing that she knew nothing than what was right in front of her in our little house and in our grassy yard. We had a marvelous week together, and it seems the perfect time to explain just HOW she was a sunrise...
- Mabel is no longer allowed to come with me to Target-- at least for a while. :) The strap in the baby seat is just loose enough for her to turn around fully, shimmy up, and FULLY STAND. She insisted on this during our trip there last Monday. For safety's sake, I was left to take her out of the cart, and hold her in one arm while pushing the cart with the other. She demanded to be out of that seat, so this was her only alternative. While I was annoyed, her feisty way was also funny.
- She loves animals and babies, but recently, everything has been a "doggie"-- from the actual dogs she sees and hears (if she hears barking from afar-- even on TV-- she exclaims, "DOGGIIEEEE!!") to the red kangaroos we saw at Capron Zoo last Tuesday to little baby C, my friend's son who visited us on Thursday. She's said the word "baby" before but was cracking us up as she stood above C. repeating, 'Doggie!' while pointing at him. It's ok-- I get it-- puppies and babies are both cute, and you want to snuggle them
- Mabel also proclaims 'Doggie!' when you lie on the ground. She comes over and slams down over you, and all I can gather is that this is how she lies on my parents' dog (it's pretty effing cute), so she is reminded of him. So, yes, folks, we are all a bunch of doggies, really.
- She's still obsessed with going up the stairs, and when she enters the house, she runs over to them to see if by chance the gate isn't up. If we let her climb, we are always behind her.
- Mabel will now sit through an entire episode of Sesame. It's odd because we never forced it. But she loves to sit in a trance as she eats dinner. Hmmm... not sure if we are promoting Couch Potato- ism, but we will go with it because it is an educational show, not the crap I sometimes like to watch. If she were into the Kardashians, we would have an issue.
- Mabel also likes to say "cheese" and "shoe" (after she has taken her shoes OFF-- every single time we get in the car) and "tee" for TV, as she points the remote at it. She fusses if we refer to "night night?" if she isn't tired, as she fears a premature nap! And Mabel seems to have just discovered "no" while shaking her head that way. She's "saying" a bunch of other things repeatedly but I can't figure them out ("bubbyyyy??' not to be confused with "baba"; "naya- naya"; and "gaaa" and "geee" to name a few). Though, I do believe "meh" is milk. And as she has been for a while, she's still got the old stand- bys "mama" and "daddy" and "baba." When she hears J's key in the door, she runs like a mad-lady toward the door, chanting, "Dadddyyyy!"
- She loves to put on my bracelets and wear them around, and to put on J's shoes. She cracks up at that one.
- Alas, the little slugger still has only enough hair on the sides to be put into any kind of "style." Thus, she can rock these sweet little pig- tails, and that's about it. We sported the tails on Thursday, and it's funny how still and relaxed she gets when I do her hair. She must like it!
- Mabel likes arranging her babies and animals in her carriage and traveling about the house. She seems a woman on a mission. Her walk has evolved into a-- sometimes reckless- run. Poor Elmo and Abby probably have whiplash.
I could keep listing fun shiz that she is up to, but I remember that brevity is the soul of wit, and I think I've captured aptly a number of ways why my week with my Mabel was my week with a helper. A helper to see some of the cute and silly and light and airy when the condition of the world around us seemed dark.
The week's placidity was certainly broken by the despicable Marathon bombings. J and I became coverage- obsessed (I blogged once before about my need to know it all when it comes to these tragedies-- how it's an odd coping mechanism for me, but one that strangely works). But we all went to bed Thursday unaware of what would transpire in the wee hours of Friday-- a more- than- city- wide manhunt, a multi- community lockdown, and a state of raw anxiety for people living in those towns-- as well as for the onlookers-- the folks like us watching from afar. It was an honest relief when I gave Mabel lunch and put Sesame Street on for her. She lit up, as she always does, when she heard "Sunnny days, sweeping the clouuuuds away!" Mabel had no idea what was going on in the background of Abby Cadabby's Flying Fairy School and Elmo's World. I longed to be her, actually, in that the ignorance was bliss, and I enjoyed a carefree hour with her until we had to get into the car. Every radio station-- every single one-- aired news coverage, and there we were back in the mire. Don't get me wrong-- there was a twisted excitement to the ordeal, and I was bummed we were away from the TV when we had to go to a charity event that evening, but being away from it all was also sort of freeing by the 5th day.
But as everyone knows, they got the guy. The city and the state and the nation came together to support Beantown. The Red Sox gave a great tribute, and the Bruins did too. Bradley Cooper came to victims' bedsides. The governor and even the Vice- President of the country attended funerals. Donation funds were organized and have raised unfathomable amounts of money for victims. Memorials have been erected, flags flew at half- staff, and people have commemorated the deceased and injured on Twitter and Facebook. But now, as it's all over, people have to just go on. Parents have to live without the children they lost; adults and kids alike have to learn to walk without legs. People must return to the city for work, and we must keep at our daily routines. It's got to be the hardest part now. Grief has surely set in its purest form, and onward people have to go, despite the fear and terror and despair. When I think of these victims and their families, I hope they get to experience some "human sunrises," as Maya Angelou wrote about, and that I blogged about once before. I suppose it's all they've got.
And so while I don't want to insinuate in ANY way that I was gravely affected by what happened, I do want to say that on a much lesser scale, Mabel was my human sunrise all week. What joy there was in seeing her play, knowing that she knew nothing than what was right in front of her in our little house and in our grassy yard. We had a marvelous week together, and it seems the perfect time to explain just HOW she was a sunrise...
- Mabel is no longer allowed to come with me to Target-- at least for a while. :) The strap in the baby seat is just loose enough for her to turn around fully, shimmy up, and FULLY STAND. She insisted on this during our trip there last Monday. For safety's sake, I was left to take her out of the cart, and hold her in one arm while pushing the cart with the other. She demanded to be out of that seat, so this was her only alternative. While I was annoyed, her feisty way was also funny.
- She loves animals and babies, but recently, everything has been a "doggie"-- from the actual dogs she sees and hears (if she hears barking from afar-- even on TV-- she exclaims, "DOGGIIEEEE!!") to the red kangaroos we saw at Capron Zoo last Tuesday to little baby C, my friend's son who visited us on Thursday. She's said the word "baby" before but was cracking us up as she stood above C. repeating, 'Doggie!' while pointing at him. It's ok-- I get it-- puppies and babies are both cute, and you want to snuggle them
- Mabel also proclaims 'Doggie!' when you lie on the ground. She comes over and slams down over you, and all I can gather is that this is how she lies on my parents' dog (it's pretty effing cute), so she is reminded of him. So, yes, folks, we are all a bunch of doggies, really.
- She's still obsessed with going up the stairs, and when she enters the house, she runs over to them to see if by chance the gate isn't up. If we let her climb, we are always behind her.
- Mabel will now sit through an entire episode of Sesame. It's odd because we never forced it. But she loves to sit in a trance as she eats dinner. Hmmm... not sure if we are promoting Couch Potato- ism, but we will go with it because it is an educational show, not the crap I sometimes like to watch. If she were into the Kardashians, we would have an issue.
- Mabel also likes to say "cheese" and "shoe" (after she has taken her shoes OFF-- every single time we get in the car) and "tee" for TV, as she points the remote at it. She fusses if we refer to "night night?" if she isn't tired, as she fears a premature nap! And Mabel seems to have just discovered "no" while shaking her head that way. She's "saying" a bunch of other things repeatedly but I can't figure them out ("bubbyyyy??' not to be confused with "baba"; "naya- naya"; and "gaaa" and "geee" to name a few). Though, I do believe "meh" is milk. And as she has been for a while, she's still got the old stand- bys "mama" and "daddy" and "baba." When she hears J's key in the door, she runs like a mad-lady toward the door, chanting, "Dadddyyyy!"
- She loves to put on my bracelets and wear them around, and to put on J's shoes. She cracks up at that one.
- Alas, the little slugger still has only enough hair on the sides to be put into any kind of "style." Thus, she can rock these sweet little pig- tails, and that's about it. We sported the tails on Thursday, and it's funny how still and relaxed she gets when I do her hair. She must like it!
- Mabel likes arranging her babies and animals in her carriage and traveling about the house. She seems a woman on a mission. Her walk has evolved into a-- sometimes reckless- run. Poor Elmo and Abby probably have whiplash.
I could keep listing fun shiz that she is up to, but I remember that brevity is the soul of wit, and I think I've captured aptly a number of ways why my week with my Mabel was my week with a helper. A helper to see some of the cute and silly and light and airy when the condition of the world around us seemed dark.
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
Spuh- ringggg!
Spring is finally here after a lengthy and chilly winter. We had lots and lots of snow this year (is it okay yet to use past tense?? Am I jinxing things?!) and people were cooped up. It's been great fun over the past week to see people outside.
I'm lucky being a teacher, in that I can get Mabel from day care by 4, and we have time to frolic on the lawn at the house or visit the local playground. Mabel really enjoys the outdoors-- true to form for a toddler-- as she's got uncharted territory on which to run around and get all sandy and filthy. For the first time, she has been PISSED when I make her leave day care, as it means removing her from the toy car or the mini- bike or just the lawn. She is so strong now that she grapples with me to be put back down onto the grass-- and is almost successful-- shimmying her little body down the front of mine to get to the ground for more playtime. Feisty little thing!
Yesterday I took Mabel to the local playground, and met a friend of mine with her two kids there. The older kids-- above 2, that is-- took to the various play items, but Mabel was just on a mission to explore. Staying upright on such uneven and rough terrain is a challenge, and she was tuckering herself out. The funniest part was that Mabel wanted nothing more than to touch this other family's stroller. I kept trying to redirect her to the horsies and playcars and sandbox, but she would squirm and then run back to this stroller. The mom was good- natured and found it funny, but I know Mabel was probably bordering on annoying, so I continued to scoop her up repeatedly-- but man, would she whine! She's going through this fascination with babies right now, shouting "ayyyy-bee!" at any real baby, fellow toddler, or doll. Hence, the appeal of the stroller. Eventually I got her into the sandbox, and she had fun scooping sand into piles, despite the sand making its way into her eye a few times. She was perfectly content in her little sun hat-- scoop, dump, repeat. Ruin pile. Start again. As she sat, and I chatted with my friend C, I watched the "big kids" jump all over the playground-- the slides, bars, etc. And I got this chilling and startling feeling of, what if Mabel doesn't make friends? Obviously she was playing alone because she is one, and she can't truly socialize yet or keep up. But I couldn't help but feel a pang of heartbreak for moms and dads who have to watch their older kids sit alone at the sandbox. I nearly cried. That sadness was summarily obliterated by a few boys cheerily chanting, 'Bye Jack!' to some other boy. It was so innocent, so sweet, so non- judgey, so non- cliquey, so non- mean- girl/ boy. I hate to think that their unadulterated friendliness ends at some point. Sometimes I am so scared of the evils of the world and what they will do to Mabel that I want to block her from everything. I know that's the worst thing I could do though.
To end on a happier note, she loved the swings-- as always. She laughed uproariously when I pushed her, and into the wide open air she went! What a joy it was to finally be outside. She started calling out for both daddy and doggie while we were there-- all I can assume is something there made her think of them, but I'm not sure what. I love the brain associations-- my friend Doris told me her sweet little girl was shouting "Elmo!" on a walk, and she didn't know why-- until she noticed the RED fire hydrants!! Sooo cool!
Today is cloudy but still warm. If the rain holds off, we shall venture into the yard for some swing and slide. As a mom, it's so wonderful to have the time outside. Yeah, they have fun, and that's great, but all the playing and running also tires them out excellently. :)
I'm lucky being a teacher, in that I can get Mabel from day care by 4, and we have time to frolic on the lawn at the house or visit the local playground. Mabel really enjoys the outdoors-- true to form for a toddler-- as she's got uncharted territory on which to run around and get all sandy and filthy. For the first time, she has been PISSED when I make her leave day care, as it means removing her from the toy car or the mini- bike or just the lawn. She is so strong now that she grapples with me to be put back down onto the grass-- and is almost successful-- shimmying her little body down the front of mine to get to the ground for more playtime. Feisty little thing!
Yesterday I took Mabel to the local playground, and met a friend of mine with her two kids there. The older kids-- above 2, that is-- took to the various play items, but Mabel was just on a mission to explore. Staying upright on such uneven and rough terrain is a challenge, and she was tuckering herself out. The funniest part was that Mabel wanted nothing more than to touch this other family's stroller. I kept trying to redirect her to the horsies and playcars and sandbox, but she would squirm and then run back to this stroller. The mom was good- natured and found it funny, but I know Mabel was probably bordering on annoying, so I continued to scoop her up repeatedly-- but man, would she whine! She's going through this fascination with babies right now, shouting "ayyyy-bee!" at any real baby, fellow toddler, or doll. Hence, the appeal of the stroller. Eventually I got her into the sandbox, and she had fun scooping sand into piles, despite the sand making its way into her eye a few times. She was perfectly content in her little sun hat-- scoop, dump, repeat. Ruin pile. Start again. As she sat, and I chatted with my friend C, I watched the "big kids" jump all over the playground-- the slides, bars, etc. And I got this chilling and startling feeling of, what if Mabel doesn't make friends? Obviously she was playing alone because she is one, and she can't truly socialize yet or keep up. But I couldn't help but feel a pang of heartbreak for moms and dads who have to watch their older kids sit alone at the sandbox. I nearly cried. That sadness was summarily obliterated by a few boys cheerily chanting, 'Bye Jack!' to some other boy. It was so innocent, so sweet, so non- judgey, so non- cliquey, so non- mean- girl/ boy. I hate to think that their unadulterated friendliness ends at some point. Sometimes I am so scared of the evils of the world and what they will do to Mabel that I want to block her from everything. I know that's the worst thing I could do though.
To end on a happier note, she loved the swings-- as always. She laughed uproariously when I pushed her, and into the wide open air she went! What a joy it was to finally be outside. She started calling out for both daddy and doggie while we were there-- all I can assume is something there made her think of them, but I'm not sure what. I love the brain associations-- my friend Doris told me her sweet little girl was shouting "Elmo!" on a walk, and she didn't know why-- until she noticed the RED fire hydrants!! Sooo cool!
Today is cloudy but still warm. If the rain holds off, we shall venture into the yard for some swing and slide. As a mom, it's so wonderful to have the time outside. Yeah, they have fun, and that's great, but all the playing and running also tires them out excellently. :)
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