why the playground scares me

I'll be the first to admit it. I am impressionable. If someone I like and respect tells me something or points out something to me I hadn't seen before, the seed is well and truly planted.

My grip in my parenting is often wobbly. I am finding scores of really interesting blogs and reads about kinds of parenting, ways to be positive, be connected, stay calm,  be an example, etc. It is just the kind of reading that hooks me and also frees me. Gives a bit of direction to point my sorry ass self in when I am stuck with my own temper or cluelessness about how to best help Lew.

(Here's just a few I am particularly obsessive about consulting)

• Ahaparenting.com
• Positive Parenting - Toddlers and Beyond
• Natural Child Project
• Dr Sears

So I read these and I feel good. I feel like I have some ways to "be" and a bit of extra confidence that I am doing OK by my boy and not totally screwing him up yet.   We are happy, we are connected, we are making it!

And then we go to the playground. The playground in the park near our house is really designed for bigger kids, but tell that to sweet Lewis, who has been conquering the big steps and big slide since he was 1.  It is fun it a little daunting to let him explore and play, albeit with a sharp eye, possible hovering and lots of "carefuls".  He loves being around other kids and part of the "scene." 

Here's where I go tense and want to leave:

 ... the big kids come.  3-5 year olds are HUGE. They are STRONG. And FAST. And truly are not yet wired to care about a toddler's feelings ("Go away" "Stop following us" or ignoring small Lew's wave hello) or well being as they zip by him or knock him over. So that gets me. I don't expect little kids to get it. I do expect their parents to be 1% watching though. And so often they just aren't paying a lick of attention.

 ... I also sometimes see parents treating their kids in a very different way than I want to treat mine.  Not listening. Bullying. Not watching. Ignoring. My stomach knots. I know know know that I do not have the answers and everyone deals in their own way.  My parenting instincts are mine -- I get that. It is just very hard to witness upset kids being ignored. Here I am full frontal faced with my fears of bad parenting. And. I. Must. Flee.

I sometimes think Lewis and I need this cocoon of time together for me to get better and clearer about what kind of parent I want to be. My impressionable side at this point simply cannot watch parenting behaviour that I do not want to copy.

I do not want to judge any parents. I don't WANT to be judged. It is a serious job and  we are all in our own boat. And yet I find that my incredibly helpful resources (see above) direct me in such a different way.

Until I can start to look at other families with more compassion, and be more rooted in my own gentle parenting, and Lewis can get up those slide stairs on his own, I think you'll see us at the playground only during the quiet hours.

Hopefully I'll be listening to Lewis, letting him play without too much direction, helping when he needs it, watching him, giving lots of love and we'll be walking home holding hands. 

19 (really??) months

Lewie loving Lambie

Alas, I look up and notice the time.
About a month since I last blogged.
About a minute since I did my last load of laundry.
And a million seconds of L's everyday getting bigger.

Today, my sweet sausage is 19 months.
Closer to two years than to one.
He is a boy.
A mama loving, dadddieee playing, wheel-obsessed, charming small person.  He knows who he is and says no when he doesn't want something. Although he still says it so sweet (noo noo) that the novelty hasn't worn off.

He discovered the love for stuffed animals lately, which melts my own personal heart into a quivering sop.  He kisses them, he feeds them (hello gross, stained furry mouths) and he gives them tight cuddles. Right or wrongly, I feel a certain pride that he may have learned how to treat his fuzzy pals in a gentle way, hopefully because we treat him that way.

It is a reminder that we are his models for human behaviour.  How to manage not getting our way, how to be when we are tired, how to treat each other, how to take care of ourselves and how to interact with the world. 

I must say I am enjoying this part of parenting way more then the wordless babe stage.  Now we communicate and we share and truly *do* things together. I feel and see the impact.

It is tender and hard and lovely and scary.
He sees us.
He is listening.
And is waving hello to make friends on the playground. And kissing boo boos - mine and his own.  And throwing things when he is angry. And melts into a fury when he is tired.
Oh yes, he is watching.
He is holding up a giant mirror showing me how I am.
What a powerful little mirror.
Hope I can keep seeing sweetness and be brave enough to change for both of us when I don't

what I've learned in 12 months

People have been asking me how I feel about having a 1-year old. And to be honest, it never occurred to me to be anything except relieved.  And didn't it go fast? Well, only in retrospect.  The days were often an exercise in Getting Through. Nights sometimes a blur.  I felt like I was often riding the crest of managing it all only to fall into near collapse as soon as the boy had finally fallen asleep for the night.

Honestly, I found this year many things: Surreal. Testing. Surprising. Lovely. Engrossing. Frustrating. Scary. Tender. Enriching. And, well, HARD!

Maybe it is because I never ever babysat or had any experience with babies except for an occasional, quick and fearful hold of a pal's offspring.  I've never been broody.  Babies seemed nice, if foreign beings.

And my own sweet boy really was no exception. I remember going out with him in total fear that he would kick off crying and I Wouldn't. Know. How. To. Make. It. STOP.

And in fact, that did happen on occasion.  I often felt like he was an unpredictable bomb which may go off at any time.  It made me twitchy and jumpy.  Not that he was by any means a particularly fussy or troubled wee babe.  I was just a fussy and troubled mum. 

Slowly, very slowly, I started to trust myself. Started to understand what he wanted, needed and took pride that going into MY arms often made it all better.

And now. Yes, Really only now, 12 months later, do I feel a bit calmer.

More space to relax into motherhood. Relish in the sunny, clear and uncomplicated love. Soak in the loveliness of holding hands. 

And in getting to know my very sweet, smiling, curious, affectionate and heart melting boy, I am growing into the mother I want to be.

But the best thing is hearing my very favourite all time word.

Mama.

fast forward

Since the invention of DVR on TV I can't stand to watch commercials anymore. Now that you can fast forward through them, it is painful to watch Live TV and have to endure them.

I'd like you all to think of my blogging absence as skipping the commercials.

In the life of an infant, 1.5 months is very very long. Many giant leaps can happen. Motor skills develop. New sounds emerge. Clothes are outgrown.

So many things have happened in the life of Lewis that I can barely keep up.

Let me catch you up, fast forward now that he is 5 months and 3 weeks old!

• we have rolling over 
• wearing 6-9 month clothes
• getting very *handsy* with hair, glasses, straps on one's bra, other babies
• bbbbbbbb, fffffffff and high pitched terradactyl singing
• infectious giggles and smiles and silliness
• FOOD! We are starting baby led weaning a little earlier than the recommended 6 months as Lew ticks all the boxes, can sit in highchair, interested in food (ours!), can put things purposefully in his mouth.

So we bought the BIG BIBS (OK smocks) and have been letting Lew experiment at meal time. So far he has tried, avocado, banana, pear (too slippery), roasted potato, and toast! Loves it.

I am filled with odd pride when I see him tucking into toast like a proper person. It is as if suddenly, it dawns on me that he is a tiny human, not just a baby.

He was to start in nursery 2 days a week and we bailed. Too chicken and too attached and too not necessary. Revisit in September when he is a big boy of 11 months

What else has shifted is us as parents. We are starting to *get* him a bit more and we are (to borrow a phrase from my pal Rhona) both in love with the same little person. It is like the perfect complete shared and engrossing hobby that you are both crazy about.

And that's nothing to fast forward. I really want to just pause.

12 days after birth

• eyelashes coming in
• sleeping 3.5- 6 hours at a shot
• gaining 2 oz a day
• outgrowing smallest outfits
• discovering and admitting my own melt down hour
• trying desperately to sleep when he sleeps and insure a daytime nap
  
• seeing Mark as baby whisperer and ultimate Lewis calmer
  
• witnessing more consciousness emerge when we lock eyes
  
• adorable baby sneezes and hiccups
• setting up nursing station with laptop, jug of water, ipod, pillows, remote, blankets, house phone, reading material, snax and mobile phone.
  
• giving up being house chef and laundry folder to allow Mark to showcase his skills
• out and about in slings -- enduring the curious stares -- and questions "is that a dog in there? you shouldn't carry a dog like that."
• being in charge of Input and Mark in charge of Output (wonder how long I can get away with that one)
• feeding like a champ. both of us
• falling more in love everyday
  

Finally. Deliriously. Happily. Here.

The wait is over.
The boy has arrived.

He waited and waited.
And we waited and waited.
It was hard.
16 days.
An unsuccessful induction.
Raging hormones.
Fear and stress.
A scary 5 day hospital stay.
And finally we went to go get 'em.
A very successful C- section.

And now he is here and the memory of how he got here is fading as is the first scary sleepless nights.
He is one week new.
And all I see is soft milky boy
Sweet and light and love

Lewis, we are glad to have you
Welcome to us
Welcome to the world
We are all the better with you here