Tips, tricks and adventures in parenting two kids.
Hayden continues to “workies,” but his job is taking various forms these days.
Some days he is a world-class photographer. Methinks he has an excellent grasp of the use of negative space. Or just a poor grasp on the camera. . . .
Other days, he’s in what’s now become his primary office, the pantry:
And some days, he just has to sit down in his thinking chair and think, think, thi-i-ink. And take notes. A PI in training if ever I saw one.
Wonder what he’ll really do when he grows up.
Hayden reached another milestone this week. While he’s made a play attempt or two at praying, he usually pretends to be shy when I try to help him through a prayer. Until Tuesday night.
Hayden was at the table getting ready to eat, I was getting ready to leave to visit someone from church and Ryan was getting his dinner. We reminded Hayden that we needed to say a prayer, and he dutifully folded his arms.
And then we heard what he was saying. “Hebely fader. Hebely fader. Hebely fader.”
Ryan and I quickly folded our arms and walked into the dining room. “Thank you for this day,” I prompted him.
“Dates day.”
“Thank you for this food.”
“Dates fud.”
“Please bless it.”
“P’ease b’ess.”
“In the name of Jesus Christ.”
Blank look.
“In the name of Jesus Christ,” I tried again.
Blank look.
This could be simpler for a two-year-old, I guess. “Jesus,” I tried.
He knew that one. “Dee sa.”
“Amen.”
“Amin.”
Not bad!
Like most children, Hayden has picked up on adult mannerisms and intonations long before he’s mastered the words to go with them. Yesterday, for example, I told him something and he tilted his head to the side as if to say “That’s silly, Mommy. You can’t be serious.”
I tilted my head the same direction to joke with him and he said, “Awwww! Sad?” (To Hayden, everyone is sad, except for outlines of his hands, which should be happy.)
This morning, I was getting Hayden up and I had a song in my head. I started singing it at the line “Tried to touch the sun.”
Hayden looked at me and said, “No touch uh sun. Hot.”
I have no idea how he knows that.
Brownie points to anyone who can name that song—but members of my family should give someone else a chance to get the answer before you post it!
Brownie points not redeemable for actual brownies.
One of my friends is a couple months away from having her first, and was looking for suggestions for her hospital bag. I tried to pare down my packing list for the hospital before going, and I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to pack lighter this time. If you’re wondering what to take to the hospital, here’s my list, with “BTDT” comments (“been there, done that”) in square brackets.
For L&D
Add to the list: any birthing/coaching materials you need, insurance card (duh).
Toiletries
You know, the bathroom supplies you’d take anywhere else.
Going home
Now, for a lot of these things, the hospital provided (lots of) them. This will, of course, vary, and yes, I suppose I did eventually pay for most of them in one way or another. However, I did look at my hospital bills and they didn’t charge me per baby wipe and sanitary napkin—but some hospitals do nitpick like that.
So, what could you not live without in the hospital?
Hayden’s at the age where he learns new words every day. Here are some of the latest additions to his vocabulary:
With my parents and most of my sisters around all last week, I got called by my first name a lot more than normal—enough that Hayden started calling me “Dordee,” and especially “Mom—Mom—Dordee.” (Don’t worry, he doesn’t really know what he’s doing; today when I asked him what my name was, he said it was “Haydie.”)
Yesterday I went in to get him up from his nap and he was jumping in his crib. He looked at me and said “kay see” several times, then shook his head wildly.
It took me a minute to figure out that he was saying “crazy.” Which is usually one of the first things I say to him when he wakes up in one of these (wonderful, entertaining) manic moods.
This morning, we were in the grocery store and I sad, “Oh man!” Hayden repeated his version, something between “Oh men!” and “Oh min!” And then he added something that—I swear—sounded like “Bite me.” No idea where that one came from.
Today we were sitting in my room and he started gathering up loose clothes and papers from around the room, stuffing them into an empty box. As he did so, he would burst out with “Eee op! Eee op!” Luckily, I know the words to that song: “Clean up.”
Hayden’s newest favorite hobby is a bit alarming to me. He hops up in front of any available computer, starts playing with the mouse and keyboard and proclaims “I worky!” He is very devoted to his profession (whatever that is; probably something as nebulous as mine).
I promise, I really don’t work that much while he’s awake. I’ve been a bit worse lately about working while he’s awake, with him so obsessed with Blue’s Clues and all, but this? This is dedication.
I have to be honest. While spring is my favorite season of the year, it didn’t really have much to do with my choice of the GWP theme for March/April. Instead, the theme was inspired by a quotation, source long since lost, that a good friend’s mother shared with her:
Wise is the woman who cherishes each season
and cheerfully anticipates the next.
My friend shared this quotation during a lesson in church on having patience. Most of us in the room were mothers, many with young children—and I think we all recognized the very common human tendency to want to rush or move on through the difficult times of parenting.
Focusing solely on the future, the next season of our lives, robs many of us of the joy of today. We dwell on the difficulties that bedevil us now: lack of sleep, kids’ eating problems, overwhelming amounts of housework, lack of time with our children and/or spouse, kids’ tantrums, and on and on. We could all likely spend hours listing the things about motherhood that leave us dissatisfied. For me, at least, after I’ve done that, all I’m left with is dissatisfaction.
When I stop brooding over the “bad” parts of motherhood, however, suddenly my charge is less of a chore. When I look at the cute and sweet things that my son already does, when I marvel at the ways he’s grown and continues to grow every day, I don’t think about the drudgery that it was.
Perhaps hindsight is 20/20; perhaps memory is blind. But as I look back over Hayden’s brief life, my chief regret (aside, possibly, from mildly spoiling him 😉 ) is not enjoying him more, even during the difficult times.
So today, I’ll savor the season. Today, I will do the work of motherhood, and I will choose to be happy. Tomorrow I’ll be able to look back with fond memories of the time I spent today. And I’ll be ready for the challenges—and joys—that tomorrow will surely bring.