Awkward

Nora runs over to hug Miss L. She gives her a big hug that gets returned very willingly. I’m a teacher – so I know you’re not supposed to have favorites, but when I see that exchange, I think that Miss L has broken that teacher rule. And that’s ok with me. Ken and I are walking out of the room, saying and waving goodbye to Nora, who smiles sheepishly and sucks her thumb. “You all need to get home and work on having another baby!” Miss L proclaims. I blush and giggle, embarassed in front of the two other parents in the room. “You’ll be the first to know,” I lie to her. And I walk out the door and ask Ken if he heard what she said, which of course he did.

This really started last week when Miss L relayed an odd story of her daughter, who also works at the daycare, playing a trick on her that Nora was going to have a little sibling. Miss L said she got so excited at the news and then was crushed when her daughter told her it was a joke. I laughed politely and said I wasn’t sure that was really a very nice joke. Miss L said she thought we really should consider adding to our family since Nora is so sweet: “How could you not want another when you have one like this?”I took it as an awkward compliment and forgot about it mostly.

Until she did it again today. It’s nice she loves Nora. I too would like to give her a sibling in the not too distant future, but I find these conversations odd – and a bit awkward.

What happens to your body when you have a toddler

Everyone focuses on your body during pregnancy – the weight gain, the vericose veins, the stretch marks, etc. There is some focus on the “post-baby” body that has larger than life breasts that can scare you when you look at yourself in the mirror (my favorite breastfeeding book said your “breasts may grow astonishingly big,” an understatement if I ever saw one), a belly that fails to return to normal shape as quickly as you would like and veins that bulge to signify milk production. But no one tells you what to expect when you have a toddler and those initial worries and problems are things of the past. So here is my list of what happens that no one warns you about:

1. You get diseases that make you sound either like an animal or like a five year old. Case in point, Hand, Foot and Mouth disease. Yes, I had it – Nora’s special gift to me at Christmas. It was horrible. A random fever, followed by an annoying sore throat, followed by a horrifying and painful rash on – you guessed it – your hands, feet and in your mouth. And now, as I sit typing this, I have one weepy, grossly crusted pink eye. Nora never got hand, foot and mouth. She doesn’t yet have pink eye. I caught both from daycare even before she did. Lovely.

2. Your body parts may not be your own anymore. Nora reaches up and says, “My hair!” No. It’s not hers. It’s mine. But she thinks it is hers. She plays with it constantly. She puts her thumb in her mouth and sticks her pinky finger out into my locks and soothes herself. I did this to my mom too. I took her ear lobe. My brother claimed her thumb. I guess I deserve to no longer own the hair on my head.

3. If you have a young one who joins you in bed for any span of time, you will suffer from kinks and pains that make you feel like an old woman many mornings. This morning I awoke in such a precarious position that I could not feel my arm anymore. After I moved it with my other arm and tried to pump blood into it I realized that my neck also had a crick in it. And then I went to the bathroom to see my eyes were beginning to crust over.

4. Your hair will begin to gray. I’ve found too many to count. And I blame not only my students, but my toddler too.

I had a whole list in my head when I sat down to write, but that’s all I recall now, after stopping to wipe the “boogies” out of my eye five times. Speaking of “boogies,” when I was watching Nora play with her play-dough tonight I started to blow my nose. She screamed, at the top of her lungs, “Mommy’s blowing her eye! Mom, blow your eye!” I hope that isn’t the next strange thing that happens to my body. I don’t want anything else coming out of my eye.

Roller Coaster

I am frustrated and pop Nora’s bagel in a ziploc and throw it in her lunch bag. I chase her around again and attempt to put socks and shoes on her uncooperative feet. Ken steams about the house being a mess despite the fact that I was home all day Sunday. Nothing is going well. I am late for work, frustrated by Nora’s uncooperative behavior (though I can’t really blame her – she has no concept of being at work on time). At daycare, I tell Miss L to feed Nora the rest of her breakfast at snack time and walk out the door, hoping I am right that the day can only imrove.

Twenty-four hours later I am watching Nora play calmly with play-dough as she eats all of her bagel without me even asking her if she is ready for another bite. She happily gets dressed and puts her shoes and socks on while holding her nebulizer cooperatively to her face. She dances in her chair as the music on Sesame Street changes. I am dressed, have had my coffee, straightened my hair, and we even have time to spare. And to top it all off, when I put Nora down at daycare, she runs over to Miss L and gives her a giant excited hug, pushing any possible mom guilt way to the back of my mind. I thank Miss L and walk out the door, hoping that the day is going to stay as good as it started.

How can these two morning happen right in a row? Well, that’s life with a toddler, I guess. You never know what the next moment is going to bring. It could bring hopping around the house with a huge grin and a proud clap; or it could be tears and clinging and constant “no.” Ah, the roller coaster of toddlerhood.

Good Day

The day ended with bath-time – as usual. But it ended with a quotable, blog-able, quote. Nora was playing in the bath – and playing with herself as she sometimes does. We ignore it. She looked up at me all of a sudden and said, “Mama, I hurt my butt.” I said, “You did? How’d you do that?” Nora replied, “I put my finger in it.” And then Ken and I tried to stifle laughter so as not to alarm her.

This was just one of those days, though. A day when I wish I could stay home all the time. Yes, it was a holiday. The weather was beautiful, it happened to be toddler-time at the children’s museum this morning. All the stars aligned to make my yearning emerge. If today had been yesterday (bad sleeping night, muddy weather, moodiness of mom and baby) I wouldn’t be writing this. But today was today and so I am.

This morning I decided that I would take Nora to the Austin Children’s Museum for their baby and toddler time. I had done that once over the summer and decided it was time to try it again. When else do I have these opportunities? I had no one to call to invite with me, so I mused to Ken on my way out the door that I need more mom friends. I have one good mom friend – she was busy today. I have a few mom acquaintances, but not really a good “supply” of people to call for a play date. I imagine that comes partly from working- I don’t have time for play dates.

At the museum I stood in line behind a woman and her two daughters. I recognized her. She lives down the street, in a nice house with an enviable play set. I said hello, introduced myself, talked about a mutual acquaintance who just had a baby – and who decided last minute not to return to work. “How could you go back to work?” This mom asked.

I chose not to be offended. She doesn’t know me. She obviously hadn’t registered that I knew this mutual acquaintance from working. I can imagine myself asking that same question in different circumstances. I moved on.

Nora and I had a most excellent two hours at the museum. The best story of the time there is of diapers. I only took one with me. Nora requested a new diaper since hers was pretty wet and she thinks its great to get her diaper changed in a public restroom. After changing into a clean diaper she decided to make the new one dirty again. I didn’t want to leave – we had just been there 40 minutes. I asked the desk if they by any chance had diapers for sale. The nice teenage boy got one from the back, which Nora put on and called her “museum” diaper for the rest of the day.

Taking her back to the toddler time made me realize that she is so much more “grown up” than she was in July when we last ventured out downtown. She talks. She is much more sure-footed. She is curious in a whole new, in-depth way. In the last two weeks there have been a number of things that have made me realize she really isn’t a baby anymore. Today was just more proof that that is true. Maybe that’s why my longing emerged. She is growing so fast. I am working so much.

After nap she wanted to go for a walk in the neighborhood and I chose to go in the direction of the neighbor mom’s house since I had forgiven her statement and really do think it would be great to have a play friend for Nora that close. Sure enough, we ran into her and her girls right around the corner.

“So are you around in the mornings?” She asked after re-introducing ourselves and our kids.
“No. I work. I am a teacher.”
“Oh.”
“I am around on school holidays like today and all summer.”
“Well, you’re welcome over anytime – I guess on the weekends. We have a great playset.”

I wanted to not sense condescension or judgement. I really want a mom friend. But it was there. And so was my longing to be able to say yes – I could come play with her and her kids any morning of the week. But she doesn’t know that about me.And so I walked off bothered and feeling sad.

On days like this I wonder. I wonder if I really would be good at staying home (I’m terrible at all the “domestic” stuff. Ken is so much better at it). If I would be more understanding of working moms than this neighbor is. If I am right to assume that working is good for me in many ways – and daycare good for Nora in some ways as well. I wonder if there ever is a “right” choice (if there is a choice).

Really, the point of all of this is that Nora and I had a great day off together. She’s quite a funny, smart and opinionated little girl. It’s days like these that I realize I’m lucky to be her mom – staying at home or not.

Yep, She’s Two

Cranky and exhausted after her first day back at daycare, Nora came home set to prove she really is now two. Several tantrums into the evening, she sat on my lap, shaking her head and saying “no” to every single thing in the room. She included herself: “No playdough. No milk. No crayons. No pens. No books. No shoes. No baby. No blankie. No chair. No Mommy. No Daddy. No Nora.”

She was clearly exhausted. And two.

Personal Day

Nora slept until 7:15 today. I can write that because I am sure it was a fluke and will never happen again even if I do put it out to the universe. But it was amazing. Amazing. A great beginning to my day dedicated to me.

I had planned a few weeks ago to take a “personal day” today – on my first day of my two week school break. I had determined that I would put all my mom guilt about daycare aside for a day and just think about me. I would send her to daycare and I would stay home. Alone.

Ever since I started sending Nora to daycare last year I have had this horrible nagging guilty feeling from the second the bell rings at the end of school to the time 10 minutes later when I pull into the church parking lot to pick Nora up. If I am not in school I should be with her. Now. Even being 2 minutes later than normal makes my heart race. It is irrational, I know, but I can’t stop it.

Or, I couldn‘t stop it. Sometime in the last three weeks, as Nora’s health returned to normal, I realized that I was tired. That I hadn’t really had a guilt-free gone-from-Nora moment in two years. That I needed to kick that awful guilty feeling to the curb and relax on the couch. Take a day for me.

I prepared myself for this for a while. I confessed to Miss Laura this morning when I dropped her off that I was taking time for myself. I felt that guilt rise up. But I kissed Nora goodbye and went out the door to begin my day for me.

I had pictured myself reading a whole book wrapped in the covers of my bed. Or watching trash TV on the couch all day. Or napping all day long to catch up for two years of sleep deprivation. I warned Ken that I was not to be bothered about chores on my day to myself. He complied.

None of my super-relaxing scenarios turned into reality. I didn’t have a book to read. Trash TV got boring really fast. And I did nap, but after sleeping to 7 am today I didn’t feel as wiped as I sometimes do. I left daycare, went to the post office to mail my Christmas cards, came home and did the dishes, watched some Ellen, surfed the Internet. Ken and I went to Ikea to get Nora’s Christmas gift. And then I did nap for an hour or so after we got home. Then I went to get Nora. And we went to the park.

I did enjoy being in the house without Nora around for a bit. But it got quiet. And all the little reminders of her – including the ornaments she hung on all the knobs around the house before she left this morning – made me miss her at the same time I was relishing my silence. The nagging guilt left me alone today, as I had hoped it would. And now, after taking time for me, I am more than ready to spend my two weeks with little “me” time and lots of “us” time.

I Prefer Sidelines, I Think…

The daycare used to tell me that Nora didn’t talk, that she just sucked her thumb, that she was quiet and calm all day. And I worried. As I wrote before, I worried that all of that observing and “playing” on the sidelines meant she was unhappy at daycare.

Well, as I knew deep down would happen, Nora has broken out of her shell. She talks much more (at home and at daycare) and she also is more interactive. Today I dropped Nora off and Miss Laura told me that Nora has been “lovin’ on” all the boys, holding hands and kissing them. On Monday I had to sign an accident report since she had walked into the corner of a table and scratched her nose while holding tightly onto one of the boys’ hands. Today that same boy screamed for joy when Nora arrived, “NORA!” And then he proceeded to take his shirt off.

It just so happens that this boy is notorious for his energy and crazy dancing. Miss Laura said that if this is the kind of boy Nora is going to go for, we better start worrying now.

As Nora like to say, “uh-oh.”

Oh – and all this kissing has led to yet another sickness for Nora. She came home with a fever today.

Great. Be careful what you wish for, I guess.

Sick

One of the worst things as a parent is when you feel helpless. For me, Nora being sick makes me feel that way. All I want to do is help her get better, feel better, avoid future sicknesses. In most of those arenas, I am powerless. I can soothe her, rock her, cuddle her, but I can’t make the pain go away; I can’t wave a magic medicine wand; I can’t promise her that I’ll quit my job and never send her back to germy daycare again. That’s the big one. That’s the mom guilt I can’t seem to shake.

Nora was sick this week. Really sick. I’ve blocked out bout number one with pneumonia, but I’d venture to say that she was sicker than she’d ever been before. It started with a virus – one that did not test positive for swine flu. It progressed into croup, which progressed into pneumonia. Horrible. She was crying in pathetic hoarse voice that even the hardest of hearts would have melted at – I’m sure of it. She wouldn’t eat – sometimes she wouldn’t even swallow. And she wouldn’t sleep. Who can blame her really.

When Nora is sick I get teary. I know it annoys Ken – that when she cries I most of the time do too. And I don’t mean to. I would stop doing it if I knew how. But I just want to help my poor sick baby. I know he does too. His brain gets more focused. Mine gets more fuzzy. I lose my focus on anything other than her. The house gets more messy. I forget everything when I leave for work. I just can think about Nora and what I need to do to make her better. Thankfully Ken thinks effectively about everything else and the whole house doesn’t fall apart. But this time Ken was sick too.

I have to send Nora back to daycare tomorrow. She was a big strong Panda for Halloween last night. I hope she can use some of her fierce roar to ward off future illnesses.

From the Sidelines

Before I sent Nora back to daycare I worried about her napping and eating. I worried about missing her too much and about her getting sick. I didn’t worry about her being social, since she always seemed to be a people baby – as evidenced from her game with the hat shown below.

On Tuesday when I picked Nora up after school she ran over to me as usual and started blurting out so many words at once, trying to tell me all she had done that day. As I smiled at her enthusiastic talking, Miss Liz told me that Nora hardly talks all day, that she cuddles and sucks her thumb for much of the time. “She laughs,” she said. But she isn’t the social butterfly I had thought her to be. Miss Liz said that she and Miss Laura had decided that Nora will either be a rebellious teenager or one who makes such astute observations that you wonder where she learned it. I vote for number two.

I left daycare that day upset. I want Nora to have fun, to interact, to show all her beautiful words and songs she sings while she’s home. I took her quiet thumb-sucking as a sign of unhappiness.

My mother reminded me that when I was two and a half and spent my days at Aunt Mary’s with other kids, I had to be bribed to play. I didn’t suck my thumb, but I picked apart my stockings for comfort, refusing to interact with even my cousins or friends I had known for a while (if you can know anyone for a while at 2?). I would report to my mom when she asked me if I deserved my prize that indeed I did not. I didn’t want to play.
I actually remember some of this (scary and cool that Nora may remember soon…), and I don’t remember that I did any of this because I was unhappy.

And then at school I thought about some of my best students who are quiet. One in particular came to mind. She listens intently all class and then usually stops and chats with me on her way out, making very intelligent observations that I wish she would add to the discussion in front of everyone, but that’s not her style. And it wasn’t mine either. I’m sure my high school teachers would be shocked that I stand in front of a group and speak all day. I probably didn’t utter one word until forced in most of my classes. And I think Ken was the same way.

But, like Nora I did have my moments. In kindergarten I was the doll in the play – the center of attention, and I screamed out my lines and belted out my songs to make sure everyone heard what I had to say.

And today, when I got to daycare, Nora ran over and hugged me as usual. But then she ran away, through the tunnel they had open on the floor. She looked at her friend Emily and laughed when she came out the other side. And then she ran up the plastic slide and did her little stomp dance around the room. She was having fun. She didn’t want to run out the door.

So I guess I have to remember that quiet isn’t always bad. That she’s clearly learning (see the ABC video below) that she’s happy all day and sometimes silly. That cuddling isn’t a sign that she misses me all day, but that she loves many people. And that she will have her moments when she steps on the stage and moments when she wants to watch from the sidelines. And it will all be ok.

Clearing the Hurdles

Nora ate cheetos for dinner tonight. They were the “natural” kind, but still a horrible horrible dinner. A symptom of the larger problem – we have not established our school year routine yet. Thus we have no plan for dinner each night.

We didn’t feed her the cheetos on purpose. Ken was snacking on them and thus Nora wanted them. He gave her one. I said, “oh-no,” knowing that one cheeto is never enough for any normal human being. And Nora proved to be normal, wanting cheeto after cheeto until they were “ga-ga” from dad’s bowl. So when I offered her three different choices of things at dinner, she was already full.

This cheeto dinner made a great ending to a day that began at 4:30 am. I hope that it is Nora’s teeth and the change of routine that is causing the sleep disruption. She was doing so well! I was feeling so rested! But I guess good things have to come to an end. And hopefully bad things do too.

As I’ve written earlier, routines are really important to me, and I think to Nora too (as evidenced by the 4:30 wake up). This first real week back at work is so hard because, not only am I taking Nora to daycare full days for the first week, but I am not at school for my normal routine. I have to be at different places at different times for different trainings, all of which seem pointless to me. Next week, when the kids come, my routine will be a bit more set, but I have to survive this week first.

So far Nora is a star at daycare. They told me last Friday that they hoped to have a cloning closet this week so all the new toddlers would be as agreeable as she is. She didn’t cry at all last week, not once when I left and not once all day while I was gone. She didn’t eat all of her lunch or snack, but I think she is doing better this week. And she did cry yesterday when one of the teachers was giving someone else some attention after a fall. Nora wanted attention too.

She comes home so happy it makes me happy too. She jabbers about buses and taxis all the way home in the car. She comes into the house and immediately finds something fun to play with. I wonder if I think she is so adorable just because I’ve missed her, or if she does just get cuter as she learns new things every day. Or maybe she is trying to be extra cute so I don’t hate her when she cries at 4:30 am.

Aside from the routine being all out of whack and messing with our healthy eating habits, despite her cuteness and resilience, it just isn’t the same to be away from Nora all day. Tonight before bed, Nora whimpered and said “butt.” She has a terrible diaper rash, and as I put layer upon layer of aquaphor on it I couldn’t help but feel so guilty. If she was here with me her little butt wouldn’t be so red. I would change her diaper more often since I know she is teething.

So the first hurdles of the year back at work. We will get over them just like we did last year. It is just painful having to start the journey.