Again today, I was without a sitter.
1. As I type this, Jeff is on a plane from Toronto heading home to us. To me. To my boys. Carter has asked every single day if today is Saturday because he knows he will see Dad on Saturday morning. And tomorrow, it is.
2. The boys were playing so well at supper time that I put their plates on the table and told them that supper was ready, but when neither really responded or seemed that interested, I just left it. I wouldn't normally do that but, honestly, they were just playing so well and were so happy that the thought of fighting with them to stop and get them to eat (which they probably wouldn't do when mad at me anyway) wasn't appealing.
Plus, I figured, they would be good and hungry when they did eat, which might actually make for a smoother-than-normal supper. And it was. Supper is rarely successful, so it's always a gift from the freaking universe when it is. Also, Grayson who does okay with veggies, but will not eat any meat (among other totally ridiculous things) actually ate potatoes today. I had to bribe him with about 8 smarties, but eff you for judging me: this was a win!
3. When Jeff is home, each of us puts one kid to bed. Usually Gray wants his Dad and Carter wants Mom, so it's pretty easy to divide. When Jeff isn't home, I have Carter come with me into Gray's room for books. The three of us squeeze into the rocking chair, read our books, and then when I turn off the lamp to rock Grayson for a few minutes in the dark while I hum him a lullaby, Carter stands by the door to wait for me. Then we head to his room where I read him a few more books.
I also always lay with Carter for a bit after we read our books. I love it. I always find it hard to get up afterwards. I'm usually so exhausted and Carter's bed is so comfy. And he plays with my hair and rubs my back. It's glorious. Anyway, since Carter has spent all week doing bedtime books with Grayson and I, he is now pretty familiar with the routine. I don't think he knew before that Jeff and I hum Gray lullabies as a part of his bedtime routine. Tonight, I was laying in his bed after books, as usual. "Mom," he says. "Can you sing me a lullaby?" So I hummed him the same lullaby that I hum to Grayson every night and after I finished, he half sat up, clapped and said, "Bravo! Bravo! Now I will be able to go to sleep." I didn't even know he knew the word "Bravo." But it was one of those moments. You know. (Consequently, it is 10:35 p.m., and the little fart is still awake. So take that for what it's worth.) Nostalgic fact: this is the same lullaby that we used to hum to Carter as a part of his bedtime routine when he was a baby. *Ugly cry face... HERE*
4. Carter is just turning into such a little grown up and my heart swells so often throughout the day at things he says or does, or even the way he looks. This is the dumbest example, that I'm pretty sure will only make sense to the parents out there:
Just now, as I'm writing this post, he gets up (obviously, he should be sleeping... like TWO hours ago) and comes out of his room saying he has to go pee. He goes into the bathroom, does his business, washes his hands and we say a few things to each other in the hallway that are not important enough to remember and then he turns to go to bed. "Goodnight, Mom," as he walks down the hall, looking so big. I don't know what it was about that. It makes zero sense, even as I write it. But just the fact that he was once this idea that I had, and then this belly, and then this tiny baby, and then this cute toddler... and now, he gets up himself, goes to the bathroom and washes his hands on his own and tells me, "Goodnight, Mom." I just don't know how this has happened. But it's amazing. I created that, I think, but it's so in my face now that he's really becoming his own person. Does that make sense?
5. My Grayson will be two years old a week from today. He calls me "Mama" now - I think because the little boy in one of the books we read a lot (I Love You Stinky Face) calls his mom that.
Parenthood is just the strangest experience. For me, I think a lot about how, when the boys are older, we will have family movie nights in the theatre room or in our big bed, how we will play games all together, and how (I hope) they will excitedly tell me what's happening in the novel they are reading. I imagine looking over at one of them on our couch, with a book in their face. I can't wait for those days, I think. And then I think about the fact that Gray is turning two a week from today and my heart hurts. Maybe not my physical heart; but something in my chest. My soul? Where would those be if humans do have them?!
I don't want another baby. Not at all. Zero percent of me wishes that Jeff didn't get a vasectomy and that we'd be either pregnant or trying to get pregnant right now. What I do wish for, though, is to have both of my baby boys again. I just want a repeat of the two little men that I have. Maybe without the sleepless nights, painful first month of breastfeeding, and the seriously broken lady parts (even after the second baby... what the actual eff?!). Jeff doesn't get this at all, but I've spoken to so many women who do. It's nice to know I'm not alone in this but it doesn't make me any less sad to watch them grow up.
I'm a sappy mom today!
Anxiety Win:
I made it through the entire week without much help, and with little-to-no me time with the boys while Jeff was away and, the winning part is, that I didn't feel anxious for much of it at all. AND that is extra impressive since I sort of felt like we were "surrounded" by the flu. I just feel like 6 days of single parenting and I'm still here, and I didn't feel on edge the whole time, and I just enjoyed the time that I got to spend with my boys. And that adds up to a big win. And I'm proud of myself. Okay. There, I said it. I am.
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