My Furry Boy

No, I don’t mean the giant, despite his natural leg sweaters, and fur vest. I mean my real fur boy, Darwin. Darwin has a very interesting relationship with my other little boys. When we first brought Oee home from the hospital Darwin wouldn’t look at me for about a month. He would reluctantly follow commands I gave him but he refused to look me in the eye. He knew I had just completely ruined the life he was so accustomed to, being treated like our baby! (Apparently our dog is a misogynist and has no understanding of the birds and the bees, since according to him, I am solely responsible/to blame for our children.)

Darwin’s relationship with Oee evolved as Oee got older. The pinnacle of his torment was when Oee learned to crawl and Darwin could no longer just move away from the pint-sized maul-machine. Things slowly got better from that point and now they even seem to play together. When we brought Wossy home, Darwin already knew the drill and was resigned to his fate. There was no anger with me, just pity for himself. And boy can he ever look pitiful!

Regardless of Darwin’s frustration with ME for having brought children into our home, he has always been incredibly gentle with, and protective of, both the boys. Oee can climb all over Darwin, put whole hands in his mouth, and even ride him like a horse. (While pounding his chest and saying baby gorilla. I know, we have a strange kid with an impressive and weird imagination) We can no longer take Darwin to the park with Oee because he freaks out as soon as Oee is on any playground equipment and is desperate to “rescue” Owen from the slide or teeter totter or god-forbid another child that wants to play with him.

Oee mounting Darwin for a baby gorilla horsey ride and Darwin watching over Wossy as he sleeps.

Oee mounting Darwin for a baby gorilla horsey ride and Darwin watching over Wossy as he sleeps.

It isn’t that surprising, since Darwin has always been protective of us and he can even sound like a guard dog, when he feels like it. He is so protective that he even barks when people come to the door now. (Great job. The dog takes up barking when I have 2 little ones whose naps I desperately rely on. Awesome.) I noticed this last night, when I ran over to my sick sister’s house at midnight and returned home 20 minutes later. Darwin heard me on the porch steps and tried to wake up all three sleeping boys. But Darwin’s protective instinct seems a bit confused, since he stops barking immediately when whoever is outside gets into the house even if he has no idea who it is. So, monkey bars and Jehovah’s Witnesses beware, Darwin is ready for you, but anyone who makes it in to our house, you’ll probably be fine!

Advertisements

Don’t Mind Me While I Catch My Breath

To say parenting is nerve-wracking is the understatement of my entire life. For more than 2 years (and for the rest of our lives!) the single most important job the giant and I have had is keeping our boys safe. In spite of themselves. It is amazing that the human race has survived as long as we have, given that every baby and toddler seems hell-bent on maiming themselves. “Why sure, I should definitely dive head first down the front steps”, “Let me touch the stove-windex-whatever, while I explain to you not to touch it” “Must. Roll. Off. Couch.” or my personal favourite “I wonder what my hand would feel like inside that pitbull’s mouth”.

It is not surprising to me that there are a lot of moments of terror, which have always turned out to be ok, but leave my heart rate sky high and me scrambling to catch my breath. Even with my children both directly in front of me, any loud noise resembling something coming down a flight of stairs leaves me completely panicked.

I had these moments of near-disaster before becoming a mom, they are just a much more common occurance now. Recently, both the giant and I shared similar moments, and not even related to our children’s safety. It was however related to our kids. One night, having finally lulled all my boys to sleep, I was tucking myself into bed when my bare foot encountered something somewhat firm, clammy and the size of my hand, under the blankets. I managed to not scream outloud, but I jumped out of bed faster than ever before and threw the blankets up. The next morning, when picking out a tie the giant stepped on the same object (yes, I just kicked it out of bed and left it on the bedroom floor), which let out a wet gargling sound, followed by a high pitched squeak. Then the giant let out a terrified “What the…” followed by an out of breath, and relieved “Oh thank god”. Let me explain: Oee often brings lots of toys into the bath with him and he is never very particular about their intended use or water resistance. Sophie the Giraffe was taken into the bath and was never quite the same afterwards. And Oee has also started hiding things in our bed. Awesome.

Thankfully, my kids are fine and I will do my damdest to keep them that way. And we don’t have any vermin in the house, just waterlogged toys. But I will continue to need a moment to catch my breath on a regular basis.

Back in 2011, Oee playing with (pre-bath) Sophie and his beautiful auntie Jess.

Back in 2011, Oee playing with (pre-bath) Sophie and his beautiful auntie Jess.

The Sheer Joy of Motherhood

My boys, giving mom some amazing smiles! (Oee on the left, Wossy on the right)

My boys, giving mom some amazing smiles! (Oee on the left, Wossy on the right)

I don’t even mean the title ironically! There are a lot of moments of all-consuming joy in parenting. Having two children has reminded me of this, because I get to feel nostalgic about Oee’s baby moments, while experiencing Wossy’s. One of the absolute best parts of parenting of the past 2 year and 9 month journey we have been on is feeling the love of a baby for his mom. It can literally be seen all over their face. No one else is mom and they don’t love anyone as much or quite the same. I know the biology behind this, but won’t bore everyone with all the details of mammal evolution. This special love is amazing, and the absolute best part of my current life, but it is a double-edged sword, since it means I take on all the feeding, most of the calming and the bulk of the early baby responsibilities. But I’ll happily take it. (Maybe because we have had easy, easy babies!)

I feel that pure love from Wossy. I see the joy in his eyes when I come into his field of vision. I light up his life! But I know from experience that it doesn’t last long. And it really shouldn’t. As sad as it is to see me become less and less the focus of my children’s lives, it is wonderful to watch them flourish without me. Oee will pass me by in a second for an elmo video, or to see his Opa or Poppy, or his tricycle, or for Easter Bunny Candy or for all the things that are more exciting than mom. He still has that special love for me and I am still the one he needs most. When he is tired, or sad, or scared, or even if he just hasn’t seen me for too long he seeks refuge in moms arms. I relish these moments from both of them, knowing that growing up means my boys will inevitably need me less and less. And I remind myself that that is a great thing, and it means we are doing this parent thing right.

But I do take the opportunity to remind Oee (and myself!) that once, I was cooler than Elmo, his tricycle and candy combined!