Making one's way

It is said that each child in the family must find their place, and I suppose that statement could be extended that each person in the family must find their place. In our house, we have ministries. Ed is the minister of all strange noises, and since Connor was born and I took on primary responsibility for feeding him, I've been the minister of children's health. Prior to Connor's birth, the position of finance minister used to rotate between the two of us, but somehow I talked Ed into keeping it as long as I was breastfeeding - and let's just say that offers a very big incentive to never wean Helen. I'm going on over 3 years of not having to hold the position. This person is stuck with making sure all bills get paid and that we can afford to do whatever it is we're planning. We used to split it up because both of us are equally qualified to hold the position (unlike other positions which draw on our unique skill sets) but neither of us wants the position. If the finance minister position did not exist in our house, I swear we would be facing foreclosure and our lights would be turned off because neither of us would ever pay the bill.

Upon Connor's birth, he seemed to take up the position of Minster of Being Awake at Odd Times - a position that he took seriously until he was six months old and we told him the position was being abolished (though on occasion he still vies for holding this prestigious title). He then took up being the head of the Ministry of Mess Making and together, we argue over who will be Minister of Having Too Much Crap. For now, Connor is winning, but I can make a good run at this when I want. We also compete over Minister of Talkativeness. Connor strives to be Minister of Nice in our house, but that's something that we all try and hold jointly. Most of all, though Connor is Minister of Doing Freaky Intellectual Things That Nobody Expects Him to Do. In fact, the one label that most people give him when they are labeling him is being smart.


When Helen came along, Ed and I wondered often if all of a sudden what we saw as pretty smart things Connor did would turn into being a regular kid, as we saw childhood unfold for another person. After all, each new development amazed us with Connor, but then, we didn't really have a baseline comparison. Maybe all kids were like him. We worried a lot about pigeonholing Connor into being intellectual, leaving no space there for Helen, and perhaps guiding him along a path that he was not interested in.

Once Helen came along, she decided to be Minister of Puke, but thankfully she has grown tired of that position, so she's now feeling her way around for what ministry she'd like to head up. She is clearly Minister of Happiness in our house, because she has always lit the room with her smile and blue eyes and it is obvious that she has no cares in the world. Things that Connor did that our rookie parent selves labeled as "smart" (which other people labeled as "pain in the assness") didn't always apply to Helen. After all, Connor would read books for hours from birth and Helen enjoys looking at the pictures, but is often happier without anyone controlling when the pages turn and where the story goes. Connor would play with the same toy forever, while Helen seems more intent on discovering everything in the room. We've revised our labels, and definitely label behaviors anthithetical to Connor's "smart" as Helen's "smart".

Lately, though, Helen has decided that making people laugh will be her special skill. Seriously. When we are at dinner, eating peacefully I might add, she will all of sudden give a big whoop and start bouncing up and down laughing, which always makes Connor start laughing, and then Ed and I will be laughing as well. A few days ago, she climbed on top of a little director's chair that the kids have and stood there laughing, even as I repeatedly told her to come down, that it was not safe. Her laughter, of course, is infectious and as she climbed on the chair over and over, Connor couldn't help but laugh. Helen finds any and every way to make everyone around her laugh. If she's doing something and no one notices, she will actually do whatever is in her power to get their attention, seemingly with the goal of making them laugh. Everywhere we go, she seems to make new friends. Where Connor was stand-offish to many people until he turned about 2 (and we thought that was really smart!), Helen seems to embrace everyone - unless they try and hold her and she has to leave my arms (and we think that is smart too!). While the joy is lovely, I've started wondering if she's carving out her niche as "class clown", and that doesn't seem all that lovely to me.

Elaine

Dancing Queen!

When Ed and I lived in Crystal City, I made some bet with him and lost. As a result, Abba was banished from our home. Shocking and sad, I know. I contend that the ban was limited to that home, so Abba can be played in our current home, though Ed disagrees. With or without the band, Helen is still my Dancing Queen!

Elaine

Scheduling?!?

Before Ed and I embarked on our journey with children, we declared (with an air of naiveté only people without children can have) that under no circumstance, would we allow ourselves to become those over-scheduled parents who spend their whole lives figuring out how to get their kids from point A to point B. OK, I’ll give every seasoned parent who just spit their morning coffee onto their computer as they shouted “HA” a moment to wipe their screens off.

OK, that should be enough time.

I have just sat at the computer flipping between websites for two indoor playgrounds and the County to figure out which flippin’ music / movement class I will put Connor and Helen in and trying to decide whether I would also put them in swim lessons, not to mention getting tickets to a puppet show for Connor and me, penciling in our trip to the paint-your-own pottery studio, and figuring out whether I should go ahead and book a few other theatre events that I’m planning to take Connor to. Sheesh. Maybe I should not enroll them in anything so they can finish handcrafting my Christmas cards!

Stumbling Around

She's a two trick pony now - three if you count the combination of stumbling and clapping together.



In fairness to Helen, the video was taken several days ago and she's much more stable now.

Crafts

"The only thing that rivals Connor's enthusiasm for his crafts is my hatred of them."

I'll let you guess which parent said that today!

Elaine

Projects

This afternoon, I look leave of the family and headed out to coffee with a couple girlfriends - a rare treat, indeed. When I arrived home, Connor, Helen, and Ed were all on the front porch. My girlfriend asked them if they were waiting for the fire department to show up. No, they were not. They were busy sanding a board, in preparation of painting it red and installing it in a toy wood stove I purchased off Craigslist for 10% of its original price. The stove is in fabulous condition, minus the missing shelf. Assuming the toy kitchen I've asked my parents for shows up at Christmas, this will provide the kids two stovetops, which I'm hoping will make cooking a little easier.

Finding his religion

On the way to school today, Connor asked if we could go to church. I asked him "church, as in, school" - because his school is located in a church. "No. I want to go to church." As I related the conversation to Ed tonight he looked at me and said "uh...that's your department". I'm actually not so sure it is my department. Any volunteers out there?

Someday, I may be mainstream

In college, as I was sorting through the discount book bins, I came across the book "In Labor". The book chronicled the move of birth from inside the home to the hospital, and with it, the displacement of midwives. This, by the way, is a unique feature of the US medical system. In other countries, as birth moved into the hospitals, so too, did midwives. But here, OBs had a rather forceful campaign against midwives as they sought to "professionalize" what they did. Apparently, OBs used to be sort of the bottom run on the medical profession totem pole, and part of this lack of respect came from them doing "women's work". Never underestimate the power a book can have in a young person's formative years when the phrase "rabid feminist" would not be at all too harsh.

When Ed and I first decided we'd have children, I went to the bookstore during lunch one day and was flipping through the pregnancy books. The one that caught my eye? "Baby Catcher" a lovely book with many vignettes about primarily home births, but a few hospital births as well. It's a midwife's tale of her practice in CA, at what she considered to be the height of the home birth movement.

When I became pregnant I knew I wanted a midwife attended birth, so I went to my insurance provider's website and searched for a midwife, and BirthCare came up on the list of approved providers. I went to their website and OMG, I discovered that they attended births at home, and this was just the coolest thing ever and I knew right away I would have a home birth.

And then I told Ed my plans.

He wasn't completely convinced of the sanity of my plan, but I had a few reasonable sounding arguments that appealed to him like - the last time I was in a hospital my ex-boyfriend was dying from leukemia, and frankly, I don't have a lot of happy memories there - and doctors like to do things their way, and if that's not my way, we already know who will lose (and there may be rational reasons for this in our litigious society) - and this may be our only child and I would hate to miss out on this opportunity, because I just know in my heart I am a homebirther - and by the way, did I mention how high the c-section rates in this area are and do you really want to see me cut open because I will totally make you watch the surgery. And by the end, Ed agreed to read this book, and I told him how I'd already made my first appointment and he should come with me.

At BirthCare, Alice (one of the midwives and a cofounder of the practice), interviewed us to see if I was a good candidate for home birth. At one point, she asked me why I wanted to have my baby at home and after I told her, she turned to Ed and asked how he felt and Ed responded "I don't actually have a full voting share in this matter" and Alice laughed and said "I think that's true a lot of the time, but most husband's don't usually tell me that". And after I'd been examined, I was officially a home birth candidate.

I told everyone about my plans and my friends who know me well often said "that's so cool, I want to hear all about it" and then, of course, there was a story about a home birth where the woman ended up delivering a breech baby and wow, was that scary and painful - but everything was fine, and then of course my sister told me I was nuts and my mom somehow knew this was sensitive territory to tread on, so she maybe said something like "it's not what I would choose", but that was about it - if even that. I think she knew my sister would do everything she could to talk me out of my decision so what was the point in her ganging up on me (thank you, mom). But by the end of my pregnancy, my mom had met another home birth grandma on the golf course and this was possibly the best day of my entire pregnancy because all of a sudden, my mom appeared totally zen about the idea.

I have only second guessed my choice twice - and that was moment before each of my children were born. Apparently, this is a classic sign of transition, when a woman has serious doubts about her ability to give birth. What possible biological function this serves I cannot even fathom.

I am intensely curious what Connor and Helen will think about when they learn they were born at home. Will they think I was crazy? Will Helen someday have her babies at home? Will Connor be the dad of kids born at home?

It's been a rough year for home birthers. ACOG and the AMA keep hammering their unfounded point that home birth is unsafe. My only guess as to why they care so much is because if insurance companies in the US ever figure out what a cost savings they could enjoy if they promoted midwifery care, many OBs could find themselves unemployed. After all, presumably c-section rates would fall more in line with the rest of the world and the need for those specialized surgical skills would just be a lot lower. They'd still be needed to handle anything out of the norm and high-risk pregnancies, but pregnancies like mine would never make it into the hospital (or woudl only be there for a few hours if a stubborn baby was lying transverse too close to her due date and needed to be turned downward - like Helen!).

Today though? Today was a good day because rather than reading another story about how midwives are getting the shaft, I read a story in the
New York Times that says home birth is coming back - and I love it!

Elaine

Happy 13 months, Helen!

Dear Helen,

I used to tell people if I had to describe you in one word, it would be "happy". But this month, I need two words "happy" and "mobile". It seems as if once you figured out that motion was possible, you just haven't looked back. Let me be the first to officially welcome you to the upright movers club. It's not that you don't crawl around still when you need to get somewhere fast, but starting this month, you have often shown you would prefer to wobble your way upright. Because, as you have so keenly figured out, you can carry things in your hand when you are not using them to support you.

You can follow simple commands, know how to sign "more" and "all done" and can say "mama", "dada", "du" for duck, "buh buh" for bye-bye and occasionally still bust out with a thank you, but it's rare, at best. I think you're trying to figure out a word for Connor but what it is, we do not yet know.
You took many steps this month guided first by two helpful hands, then one helpful hand, and now you can walk the distance of the hallway without any help at all, though you do appreciate having a wall to lean on every now and then. It's hard work balancing for so long.

You also showed your adeptness at motion by climbing the attic stairs, climbing up Connor's kitchen stool, climbing any staircase that was nearby, and generally getting into even more stuff than you used to get into. For a while, I thought you had lost interest in your previous favorite game of unroll all the toilet paper while Connor and I brush our teeth in the morning or while I shower, but you have embraced it with a newfound love the past few days.

At the beginning of the month, we were instructed by our realtor to stop using the top of the refrigerator to store baggies, saran wrap, and tin foil, so instead we moved them to a cabinet. You, naturally, discovered these "toys" immediately and proceeded to pluck every baggie out of a very full box and scatter them about the floor while I prepared dinner. Small price to pay for a content toddler, I suppose.

You are officially a member of the play group that previously you were only allowed to attend because you had "sibling" status. And, after being surrounded by 6 boys Connor's age, a girl your age joined, so now you have an actual peer to play with, or beside, I should say.

You love the idea of being able to color with crayons, markers, pens, and pencils, but I am less thrilled. I only allow it when you are seated at the dinner table in your chair and have no ability to escape. The swing in the basement gets a lot of use these days because I cannot leave you for even a moment without worrying you will be halfway up the stairs. You have the sweetest laugh, and you love "finding" someone. It's funny every time, my dear. Your dad and I took you swimming one day and were reminded how much you love the water. I'm thinking of starting my regular swim dates at the indoor "beach entry" pool up with Connor again now that winter is here, but this time, I'll have TWO kids with me, and I'm very excited about that.

The one thing that continues to perplex me is that while you love to look at books and flip the pages, you almost never want anyone to read them to you. Instead, you take the book and sit next to whomever was reading it and pretend to read it on your own. Well, I think you're pretending, anyway.

Love,
Mama

Happy 39 months!

Dear Connor,

Tomorrow, you will be 39 months old. It's been a very busy month around here, and you have done an incredible job of not noticing and digging in and helping, when appropriate. It's been a real blessing to everyone near you. The big thing that happened this month is that we sold our home. Yes, your birthplace will soon belong to a young couple who's planning on starting a family soon. And while I'm sad that you will likely have no memories of this home, I'm not sad to avoid the renovation we had planned. That could have been really tough on everyone.

What does this move mean to you? For starters, we had to keep the house super clean for about 10 consecutive days as first realtors and then potential home-buyers trounced through our place. This meant that many of your toys were displaced and we were in a state of near constant vacuuming. Luckily, I got a new vacuum and you pulled out the vacuum we gave you when Helen was born and together, we logged a lot of miles. I think everyone is grateful the home sold so fast. You are already making plans to paint your new room "rainbow" which will be very interesting, I'm sure.

Outside, there were also plenty of jobs to be done, but that didn't mean we didn't take the time to rake up a bunch of leaves just to jump in. I have to admit though, you were probably more enthusiastic about bagging them up than anyone. You've become quite meticulous when it comes to the outdoors. The first week of school, you announced that you were going to keep the path that leads to the playground clean and every week you have kept your word. You probably spend half of your playground time each week cleaning up the path, but it does look mighty good when you're done. More recently, you've started treating the deck this way and since we always have magnolia leaves falling on it, you have plenty to do whenever you choose.

Occasionally, your dad or I will call you Henry to get your attention and this month, without missing a beat when your dad called you "Henry", you responded by calling him Bob. It was as if you had been planning your come-back for a long time. Smooth, Connor. Very Smooth.


I always enjoy seeing my speech tics show up in your speech, if for no other reason than it seems to show you listen to me. Of course, it also points out to me phrases that get a bit overused. This month, I have been trying to say "unfortunately" and "fortunately" less, as they have crept into your vocabulary with amazing zest. Often, you will pose a query such as "Mommy, can we go to the inside park today" and I will respond "unfortunately, Connor, the inside park is not open today". You have taken this speech pattern to a new level proclaiming everything to be either fortunate or unfortunate - often mixing the the two.

Observing you at school brings pleasure to me every week. Once this month, you picked up a rather large board to add to the train station you were building and shouted "I'm carrying an ENORMOUS board" and Mrs. T. looked at me smiling, so proud of how much you've changed since last year. A big Waldorf principle is that children should be able to hold different relative positions - so while you were the youngest in the class last year, this year you are among the older. You do everything at school with vibrancy and a real sense of purpose. One week we were out on the playground and you hopped up on the balance beam and then announced you were going to fly. You started flapping your little arms and then you leapt, and I almost could not catch you because your arms were waving so wildly. When you were safely on the ground, you looked at me and shouted "did I do it, did I fly?". Later that day, you tried flying out of your carseat as you left the car and nobody was there to catch you, and as it turns out, you probably didn't fly earlier in the day, and you certainly didn't fly then.

You and Helen had an incredible month. You celebrate her achievements, engage her constantly, and the two of you laugh uncontrollably at least once each day at and with each other. You very much try to keep her out of harm's way and will pick her up and move her when you deem it necessary. So far, no harm, no foul.

Today, you and your dad spent his day off heading off to the hardware store to take care of a few small issues that came up in the home inspection and then you took Helen with you to the petting farm. I'm told that everyone had a great time, though you and Helen seemed to have a bit more energy than you dad did when I came home from work.

The days are getting cold and short, but this just means we have to dress warmly when we go out each day and that it's dark in the morning, so the odds of you sleeping in increase. This latter thing is a very good thing, indeed.

Love,
Mommy