So we had a drs appointment on Monday. HB is turning two in about a week or so. He's in the 20th percentile in weight (25 pounds) and 45 in height. His brother is a chunky monkey. He's over 11 lbs and in the 90th percentile for weight.
HB is obsessed with letters. He's not quite two and he sings the ABC song all day long to himself. And he's been identifying letter. Yesterday, he brushed my hair aside (it's very long these days I plan on donating it soon) because he noticed the word "STAFF" printed on this old work t-shirt that I was wearing. And he identified every stinking letter on it. I didn't even have to prompt him to find a letter. He knew what they were. Today, he got ahold of a Pyrex lid that has the name stamped into it. He identified two letters before tossing it aside: P and R. Now he can't identify every letter; some aren't that common. But he identifies most letters.
His brother is my mellow child. I can usually set him down long enough to change HB's diaper or throw something in the oven before the wailing starts. And he never cries once he's in someone's arms unless he's really really hungry which is rare. Unlike HB is obvious when he's getting hungry. HB was my high needs kid. His godmother said whenever his eyes were open so was his mouth. He had to be swaddled constantly. He's still a little high needs at times. And truth be told I thought all infants were wailers until I met Knee who just goes to show you that most infants aren't like that.
And this brings me to my next thing. So I've been reading two very gut wrenching articles one from Calah and one from Cam. Calah is raw. She talks about resenting her family. I don't share her feelings but I understand where she is coming from. Being a parent and giving up your selfishness is really really dang hard. (BTW she said she was being selfish so I'm not saying that she is selfish because I don't know her to make any judgement as to her character before children or after) I can't really relate to the whole children thing. I've always wanted children. To me having children and sacrificing self was to be expected. I worked with children my whole life. Having my own was just the final step in that.
But I can relate to selfishness on a different level. I think Cinderella ate me. Oh, I'm realistic about children, but I'm still working out the realities of marriage. I was looking for a kind gentle husband who on Saturday's would bring me breakfast in bed, who would notice when I was frazzled and step in, who would occasional run me a hot bath and force me into it. The reality is that my husband, while a very loving person, is not very perceptive or observant. I have to tell him that I'm frazzled and ask for his help. He doesn't seem to catch that I am frazzled. And talking to him about it, I realize that it's not that he's mean or anything it's just him. He would run me a bath but he doesn't think to it from time to time. Or he thinks about these things but the timing is all wrong and he simply forgets about it later. That's Hubby for you.
So I've had to learn to tell him things like I haven't brushed my teeth in four days because I haven't the time and when I have the time my oldest screams his head off at me while brushing my teeth and it's just too stressful. I cave and would rather deal with shrieking about his brother being fed or his diaper being changed. I would rather him get upset about things/luxuries others receive than to have him mad at me for "indulging" myself by brushing my teeth. Did I mention that I live with a high needs toddler? Death to self meant death to my child. Death to self meant my knight was supposed to rescue me. But I've mentioned the lack of hygiene so many times that you would think Hubby would remember to let me brush my teeth in peace. But that hasn't happened yet and I don't think it will. Unless I yell about it.
Does this mean my husband is a mean man or a dunce? No. He's just a normal person. And I have to get over it. Instead I can lavish him with romantic messages on the bathroom mirror and put on slow jazz to dance to for Valentine's Day and make him rice crispy treats just because. Or I can be resentful and not do any of those things because he never does those type of things for me. Is it disappointing? You bet you. Am I upset about it? Sure, I've cried about it.
But it's like Calah said you can resent it or you can grow from it.
Cam's article was dealing with an Anonymous blogger who in the midst of trying to mean well said a bunch of hurtful things like that Cam was in a hurry to have a ton of children or that children were trophies. I've heard of trophy wives and living through our children vicariously, but really. I never got that impression at all. So I don't know where the blogger got that idea.
I know what trophy children look like. Their parents are usually referred to as helicopter parents, parents that hover around their children and over schedule them. I don't always agree with George Carlin, but in one of his skits he addresses this issue head on. He basically asked the question to children even know what a stick is or how to play with one. It's sad, but true that there are parents out there like that. Cam doesn't strike me as the person who wouldn't let her children dig in the dirt with sticks.
The only thing I would worry about with Cam, if I had to tell my Anonymous blogger person, is that she worried me half to death trying to work and stuff while needing bed rest. That's it. She sacrificed herself a little too much, but who am I to talk. I finally after four days realized that I needed to brush my teeth before they rotted in my head. Sometimes death to our children gets a little out of hand and we need someone to rescue us from it. And Cam has a husband whom I'm sure did a good job of making her lay on the couch.
But I should go to bed. I'm loosing too much sleep over the whole dang thing that it's not worth. Sacrificing myself to the blog....well, that ain't gonna happen. It's not even on the list of priorities.