Squidbits
Between posting last month's Squidbits late and the Squid's trip to Chicago with his Daddy this month, I've only got about two weeks' worth of Squid reports. And not a lot to add, honestly - all the same stuff as last month, only more of it. More words. More repeating. More activity. More more more. Himself called from Chicago this morning and said that he can now count to 19...not with all the right numbers and sequencing, of course, but his vocabulary has expanded beyond the 1-10. He has more sophisticated spatial and temporal concepts,too. I talked to him on the phone yesterday while I was driving back from meetings and he informed me that Lolo was working, and that he wanted him to come home. Um, not in so many words. It was more like, "Lolo coming!" (hopeful), "Carseat!" (the carseat is in Lolo's car), and then "Lolo working," (sad). Still, that's a whole conceptual set of ideas about other people's location and actions that he didn't have when he left.
He's fascinated with Baby [Squid] - pictures and movies - but the moment a few months back where he said "That's me!" must have been a fluke, because he identifies the little kid in the pictures as "Da [Squid]!" He also doesn't respond to his name, though that could be the standard toddler self-absorption rather than a lack of recognition. He looked at a picture of himself making "ooo" pursed lips and said, "MOOOOO!" which totally blew my mind - I thought, that's crazy that he has a concept of what his face looks like when he makes that noise! It took me another few days to realize that he's not translating the feel of the expression on his own face into the sound, he's recognizing it because he sees it on other people's faces when they make that noise.
So quick to believe that my child has sophisticated thought processes going on! In a recent survey of almost a hundred mothers of children aged 2-5, 70% rated their own children as above average, across the board. Hello, Lake Wobegon. My reaction on reading the story: But my kid really IS above average! *koff* I know that's not true, actually. He crawled, talked and walked a little later than many of his peers, and there are younger kids doing things he still hasn't explored; which is fine, I'm just saying, kids move at varying paces on a whole spectrum of activities and abilities. I do think, however, that when it comes to friendliness, mellowness, and general good nature that he is exceptionally wonderful. He's such a happy, cheerful little guy! I miss him.
Of course, he was happy and cheerful...until I spoke to him on video chat one day. And even then, he had a good time, playing and chatting away...until I said "bye bye." His poor little face just crumpled and he started sobbing "Mommy, Mommy" and reaching for the screen. Way to break my heart. I don't think we'll be doing video chat any more when we're apart - he's fine on the phone, but apparently video chat is traumatic. The fact that he had skipped a nap probably wasn't helping, but regardless. Poor bug. He's had a great time with his Lola and Lolo for the most part, going to the park and the children's garden and the zoo, but reminding him visually that I wasn't there turned out to be a bad move.
It's been good for me to have the time off, though. I've caught up on sleep. Caught up on my piled-high inbox. Completed a craft project or two. Gone to a concert. Visited friends and family. Done some long-neglected housework. Read some books. I watched some movies in which shit blows up and sewed the projects that had been sitting unfinished on my counter for the last month and a half. I desperately needed this re-set. Even working full-time is not enough to cast a pall over it.
And Saturday I went to my pre-school reunion. That's right, you heard me. Pre-school reunion. It was awesome. My preschool was a very special liberal preschool run by some friends of my parents - I attended from the time I was three through the second grade, at which point I transitioned to public school, so I had known some of these kids for seven years, and some for more, if they ended up at the same grade school or high school as I did. It was crazy to see them all as adults - crazy good. Our teachers came, and all the parents, and a lot of us brought the next generation, too. I recognized at least three-quarters of the attendees, even after all these years, and I still like them.
It's interesting, though the difference between solo socializing and socializing avec Squid. When Himself is gone for business for two weeks, and it's just me and the Squid, I'm lonely and tired by the end of it. I never used to get lonely when he traveled, before we had a kid. I enjoyed my time alone. I'm good company for myself. But being a parent is a different way of being in the world. I can't just turn inward, replenish my energy and center by thinking my me thoughts and doing my me stuff - I have to be outwardly focused almost all the time. It's really exhausting, and it's lonely because even though I'm focused on someone else, nobody is focused on me in a reciprocal way. All the energy and attention flows one way. Which is not to complain - that's parenting, that's how it's supposed to be - just to observe. Conversely, I haven't been lonely at all the past few weeks - I mean, I've done some socializing, but it didn't feel necessary, just pleasant. Solitude and loneliness are very different beasties.
A colleague of mine is big into personality typing, and for kicks I took a bunch of Myers-Briggs analogues online a while back, so I could talk about it with her. I ended up pretty much the opposite of what I'd expected - as a kid I was an...oh, hang on...ENTP, I think. As an adult, I came out with a whole hodgepodge of ratings, but skewed heavily introverted and always judging rather than perception-oriented. Er, it is possible that time has not improved me. In any case, my colleague explained the introversion/extroversion thing to me - it's not whether or not you like to socialize, it's where you get the core of your energy - do you need time alone to recharge, or does social interaction energize you? When you put it that way, it's pretty clear where I lie. This actually has helped me feel better about my parenting in a weird way, like my need for time to myself is more justified or something. I don't know.
This is also central, while I'm in full navel-lint analysis mode, to something that's been preying on my mind for a few years now, namely, the question of a second kidlet. We had always planned on two...until I got pregnant. And my resulting depression and anxiety tipped me all the way over into "oh hell no" until November, when I finally got the right medication and stabilized. Now I'm living in a weird limbo in which I'm terrified of the concept but not entirely ruling it out. I can't stop thinking about it. I checked with the ~iatrist, and I could stay on at least half of my meds with minimal risk through pregnancy and breastfeeding. The next door neighbor sent a picture of their three-year-old son holding their newborn, and my heart melted. The Squid would be such an awesome older brother! I want him to have a sibling! My best friend just had her baby, and I am so happy for her I could burst, and making tiny onesies and thinking thoughts about tiny wee persons, and I think, Babies are so awesome! I want one!
On the other hand, it took me more than a year and a half to fully recover from the first one. I already max out my sick leave each year with one kid's germs. I've already maxed out my budget with one kid's daycare. The Squid is (and his other caretakers confirm this) a remarkably even-keel, low-maintenance, low-anxiety guy, and I'm still afraid that I've maxed out my ability to parent successfully. Particularly as anyone else who came along, while no doubt wonderful in their own ways, would probably not be quite as independently okay as the Squid is - he's unusual that way. My social life is built around my ability to travel solo with him and wrangle him on my own while spending time with friends; I'm not sure how possible that would be with two. I hated being pregnant. And solo parenting 15-20% of the year with more than one, well. On the bad days, it would be really, really hard. I'm not sure I'm strong enough. I'm afraid I'm too selfish. I'm afraid I'll make a decision and it will turn out to be the wrong decision and it will be too late to change my mind.
So I think about it all the time. And as an awful side effect of my indecision, I've realized that I've sort of cut off contact with all my friends who have more than one kid. Not because I don't love them or because I have any kind of judgment about their choices, but because when I talk to them, it's all I can think about. I want to ask them about it endlessly. My anxiety ratchets up to a peak. This isn't fair to my friends, and I only recently realized that I was doing it, but now that I've twigged to it, it's clear. It's like being friends with someone who lives at the top of a cliff when you're terrified of heights or something. If they seem happy, I envy them for being better people than I am, and if they are having trouble, it is all my fears confirmed. I need to get over it, but I'm not sure how, until and unless I can some to some sort of decision or closure of my own. Dear friends with more than one, I'm sorry; it's not you, it's me.
On that vaguely negative and bizarre note, I should wrap this up - the Squid and Himself will be home in a few more days, and I have loads of half-finished projects to tie up before then. ("Relax!" Himself said, when I mentioned possibly hand-scrubbing the grout and re-sealing it while they were gone. "Get a massage!" I forgot to schedule the massage, but at least I didn't hand-scrub the grout. Much.) I am not really very good at relaxing, but I squeezed a little in in the past few weeks. I gave up on finishing Ulysses before Bloomsday, which means I will have to put off my planned tattoo for another year, but that's okay. I needed to read genre fiction and watch episodes of Dr. Who more than I needed to meet yet another arbitrary self-imposed deadline.
I'm not sure where I was going with that tangent. I always was bad at conclusions. Shutting up now.
He's fascinated with Baby [Squid] - pictures and movies - but the moment a few months back where he said "That's me!" must have been a fluke, because he identifies the little kid in the pictures as "Da [Squid]!" He also doesn't respond to his name, though that could be the standard toddler self-absorption rather than a lack of recognition. He looked at a picture of himself making "ooo" pursed lips and said, "MOOOOO!" which totally blew my mind - I thought, that's crazy that he has a concept of what his face looks like when he makes that noise! It took me another few days to realize that he's not translating the feel of the expression on his own face into the sound, he's recognizing it because he sees it on other people's faces when they make that noise.
So quick to believe that my child has sophisticated thought processes going on! In a recent survey of almost a hundred mothers of children aged 2-5, 70% rated their own children as above average, across the board. Hello, Lake Wobegon. My reaction on reading the story: But my kid really IS above average! *koff* I know that's not true, actually. He crawled, talked and walked a little later than many of his peers, and there are younger kids doing things he still hasn't explored; which is fine, I'm just saying, kids move at varying paces on a whole spectrum of activities and abilities. I do think, however, that when it comes to friendliness, mellowness, and general good nature that he is exceptionally wonderful. He's such a happy, cheerful little guy! I miss him.
Of course, he was happy and cheerful...until I spoke to him on video chat one day. And even then, he had a good time, playing and chatting away...until I said "bye bye." His poor little face just crumpled and he started sobbing "Mommy, Mommy" and reaching for the screen. Way to break my heart. I don't think we'll be doing video chat any more when we're apart - he's fine on the phone, but apparently video chat is traumatic. The fact that he had skipped a nap probably wasn't helping, but regardless. Poor bug. He's had a great time with his Lola and Lolo for the most part, going to the park and the children's garden and the zoo, but reminding him visually that I wasn't there turned out to be a bad move.
It's been good for me to have the time off, though. I've caught up on sleep. Caught up on my piled-high inbox. Completed a craft project or two. Gone to a concert. Visited friends and family. Done some long-neglected housework. Read some books. I watched some movies in which shit blows up and sewed the projects that had been sitting unfinished on my counter for the last month and a half. I desperately needed this re-set. Even working full-time is not enough to cast a pall over it.
And Saturday I went to my pre-school reunion. That's right, you heard me. Pre-school reunion. It was awesome. My preschool was a very special liberal preschool run by some friends of my parents - I attended from the time I was three through the second grade, at which point I transitioned to public school, so I had known some of these kids for seven years, and some for more, if they ended up at the same grade school or high school as I did. It was crazy to see them all as adults - crazy good. Our teachers came, and all the parents, and a lot of us brought the next generation, too. I recognized at least three-quarters of the attendees, even after all these years, and I still like them.
It's interesting, though the difference between solo socializing and socializing avec Squid. When Himself is gone for business for two weeks, and it's just me and the Squid, I'm lonely and tired by the end of it. I never used to get lonely when he traveled, before we had a kid. I enjoyed my time alone. I'm good company for myself. But being a parent is a different way of being in the world. I can't just turn inward, replenish my energy and center by thinking my me thoughts and doing my me stuff - I have to be outwardly focused almost all the time. It's really exhausting, and it's lonely because even though I'm focused on someone else, nobody is focused on me in a reciprocal way. All the energy and attention flows one way. Which is not to complain - that's parenting, that's how it's supposed to be - just to observe. Conversely, I haven't been lonely at all the past few weeks - I mean, I've done some socializing, but it didn't feel necessary, just pleasant. Solitude and loneliness are very different beasties.
A colleague of mine is big into personality typing, and for kicks I took a bunch of Myers-Briggs analogues online a while back, so I could talk about it with her. I ended up pretty much the opposite of what I'd expected - as a kid I was an...oh, hang on...ENTP, I think. As an adult, I came out with a whole hodgepodge of ratings, but skewed heavily introverted and always judging rather than perception-oriented. Er, it is possible that time has not improved me. In any case, my colleague explained the introversion/extroversion thing to me - it's not whether or not you like to socialize, it's where you get the core of your energy - do you need time alone to recharge, or does social interaction energize you? When you put it that way, it's pretty clear where I lie. This actually has helped me feel better about my parenting in a weird way, like my need for time to myself is more justified or something. I don't know.
This is also central, while I'm in full navel-lint analysis mode, to something that's been preying on my mind for a few years now, namely, the question of a second kidlet. We had always planned on two...until I got pregnant. And my resulting depression and anxiety tipped me all the way over into "oh hell no" until November, when I finally got the right medication and stabilized. Now I'm living in a weird limbo in which I'm terrified of the concept but not entirely ruling it out. I can't stop thinking about it. I checked with the ~iatrist, and I could stay on at least half of my meds with minimal risk through pregnancy and breastfeeding. The next door neighbor sent a picture of their three-year-old son holding their newborn, and my heart melted. The Squid would be such an awesome older brother! I want him to have a sibling! My best friend just had her baby, and I am so happy for her I could burst, and making tiny onesies and thinking thoughts about tiny wee persons, and I think, Babies are so awesome! I want one!
On the other hand, it took me more than a year and a half to fully recover from the first one. I already max out my sick leave each year with one kid's germs. I've already maxed out my budget with one kid's daycare. The Squid is (and his other caretakers confirm this) a remarkably even-keel, low-maintenance, low-anxiety guy, and I'm still afraid that I've maxed out my ability to parent successfully. Particularly as anyone else who came along, while no doubt wonderful in their own ways, would probably not be quite as independently okay as the Squid is - he's unusual that way. My social life is built around my ability to travel solo with him and wrangle him on my own while spending time with friends; I'm not sure how possible that would be with two. I hated being pregnant. And solo parenting 15-20% of the year with more than one, well. On the bad days, it would be really, really hard. I'm not sure I'm strong enough. I'm afraid I'm too selfish. I'm afraid I'll make a decision and it will turn out to be the wrong decision and it will be too late to change my mind.
So I think about it all the time. And as an awful side effect of my indecision, I've realized that I've sort of cut off contact with all my friends who have more than one kid. Not because I don't love them or because I have any kind of judgment about their choices, but because when I talk to them, it's all I can think about. I want to ask them about it endlessly. My anxiety ratchets up to a peak. This isn't fair to my friends, and I only recently realized that I was doing it, but now that I've twigged to it, it's clear. It's like being friends with someone who lives at the top of a cliff when you're terrified of heights or something. If they seem happy, I envy them for being better people than I am, and if they are having trouble, it is all my fears confirmed. I need to get over it, but I'm not sure how, until and unless I can some to some sort of decision or closure of my own. Dear friends with more than one, I'm sorry; it's not you, it's me.
On that vaguely negative and bizarre note, I should wrap this up - the Squid and Himself will be home in a few more days, and I have loads of half-finished projects to tie up before then. ("Relax!" Himself said, when I mentioned possibly hand-scrubbing the grout and re-sealing it while they were gone. "Get a massage!" I forgot to schedule the massage, but at least I didn't hand-scrub the grout. Much.) I am not really very good at relaxing, but I squeezed a little in in the past few weeks. I gave up on finishing Ulysses before Bloomsday, which means I will have to put off my planned tattoo for another year, but that's okay. I needed to read genre fiction and watch episodes of Dr. Who more than I needed to meet yet another arbitrary self-imposed deadline.
I'm not sure where I was going with that tangent. I always was bad at conclusions. Shutting up now.
posted by The Stute Fish at 20:55
4 Comments:
There is no "wrong decision", but you know that. I can relate to the feeling that whatever you decide you will regret. Even though decide is maybe not the right word for my situation.
I am thinking about this one/two thing all the time too, as you know. It is hard not to let it be the main thing on my mind.
At this point you're further along with the kid thing than I. It's always kind of shocking to hear classmates have gone and reproduced, and sometimes more than once. Hell at this point we could have had teenagers. It's all very frightening to me and yet I do want my own little parasite. A friend who never wanted kids just reproduced and it just tickled at being a mother.
--Anon
Long lost howdy!
A's almost 3 and I'm constantly obsessing about a second kid...the whole yes! no! yes! no! thing.
Truth is we really like our life the way it is right now. I'm traveling a bunch for work and generally our life is close to manageable and happy.
I was talking to someone recently about kid 2.0 and she said that she could see us with a second child with maybe 4-5 years between them. This kind of makes more sense to me, should there be a second child. 3 of us to take care of a new baby, instead of having 2 babies at once. Maybe kid 2.0 when A is 4 or 5--in kindergarten!
So happy to see what you are up to!
Paula - wow, long time no talk. I'm glad to hear from you, and I'd love to call sometime. I know how it is, though, between kid and job.
And I hear you. 4.5-5 years is probably going to end up being our spacing if we do it, and it just seems much more sane to me.
Though some days nothing seems sane to me. I like my life! Why am I trying to change it?
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