Wednesday, November 19, 2008

An Unfinished Post

When Bo was born, there were long nights, early mornings, exhausting days. We struggled for a while to figure out the parenting thing, and to know our roles. There were times when I didn't know what he needed or how to soothe him. My body ached from delivering him, it throbbed from feeding him, it was weary from caring for him. Everyone said it was just a phase, and before we knew it, he wouldn't be a newborn anymore. It felt like forever when I was in it.

I remember telling someone he was 13 and a half weeks old. I actually knew that at one point.

Suddenly he wasn't a newborn and he was a little human being crawling, walking, communicating.

When he was learning to talk he got frustrated a lot when I couldn't understand what he wanted. Like the time he was asking if he could go pee in the grass, even though he wore a diaper. And we wondered if he wanted pineapple. Or salsa. It was just a phase though. He learned to say anything he wants to say, and some things he shouldn't.

When he was 2 and a half we were in a car wreck and spun out of control across the freeway. In his carseat in the back he felt the car spin around several times and then crash against a guard rail. It was terrifying for all of us, but he couldn't get over it. For months, afterwards he screamed and clutched his carseat anytime a corner was turned sharply or he heard any kind of loud noise while we were driving. It broke my heart that he had been traumatized and I thought he'd never go back to feeling safe and secure driving with me. My mom told me it would be hard for him, but it was just a phase and he'd get over it eventually. He did.

When he was in diapers and I was dying for him to not be, it felt like an eternity before he was ready to be done with them. I waited and waited for him to say when. Everyone said to give it time, he'll give up diapers and never go back. That brief period of training can be rough, but it's just a phase. Now, he thinks it's a joke when we tell him that he used to wear diapers.

When he was 3, in the backseat of our car he practiced counting to 100 over and over and over. What comes after 24? 27? 38? 42? and how about 56? I thought I would lose my mind hearing those numbers over and over and over. It's just a phase, I reminded myself. Soon enough he'll get it, and he'll move on. Now he counts to 1000 and doesn't even think about it. Except to brag that he can, once in a while. Oh yeah, and to stay up 2 and a half hours past his bedtime, counting to it.

There were days when I just wished I could get through it without having someone crawling all over me. Wanting a drink, needing a nose wipe, sharing a kiss, craving comfort, reading a story...

Moments when I wished for the good ol' days of solo bathroom visits.

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