MY BOY

MY GIRL

THE SWEETIES

In no particular order…

1. That Wesley sort of smiled for his preschool picture. And that we actually thought to buy a few copies of the picture to keep for future memories. Wes doesn’t smile on demand, so this is a big deal.

I’m not sure why he’s wearing his jacket in the picture. Maybe he wouldn’t let them take it off??

2. This gal who is 2 months old and who smiles whenever you give her attention.

I will, however, be grateful to see her sleeping through the night. I get up with her consistently twice each night. Usually she goes right back to sleep. But then sometimes Wes will wake up and I have to get up to help him go back to sleep…

3. That Wes likes strawberries.

He’s made the sign for them before, but I didn’t know what the sign meant until I caught a snippet of his “Signing Time” DVD where they were signing it. Last night he was on the counter watching me cut strawberries for my meal, and he helped himself to one. I was kind of surprised, but he ate the whole thing and asked for more. Yay for another thing Wes will eat! He ate three more strawberries tonight. He can even kind of say the word: “Dah-Bay.”

4. My Zumba classes that I teach. I worked at a desk for seven years and truly never liked sitting at a desk. Standing in front of loads of people and making them sweat and smile and have so much fun is much more my idea of the dream job. I often come away from class thinking, “I have the best job ever.” Not that being a mom isn’t truly the best job (it is), but there is something so gratifying about a job where people come up afterward and smile and say thank you and tell you what a joy the class is to them. Wes and Carissa aren’t big into thank-you’s.

5. Losing weight. Because I’m finally losing a little more. I’ve been at it (imperfectly, for sure, but consistently, yes) for about six weeks and I’m making progress. I’m getting close to where I was before I got pregnant, and then from there I’ll just be a few pounds from my goal. Not every day is easy. In fact, most days aren’t. But as I keep working at it I gradually get closer to my goal.

6. Wes is getting so smart. He amazes me with how much he knows. Today we were watching “Signing Time,” which had a song about the colors of a rainbow. I looked over at him and he was not only signing the colors but even saying some of the words. Impressive! He is getting really good at colors. And he loves it when we count with him. He holds up his hand as we count 1-10, although he can’t arrange his fingers the right way yet. But he can make sounds that resemble most of the numbers as we count. I also started singing the alphabet song with him, and he is totally into it.

7. Wesley’s preschool teacher is thinking of increasing his school time to four days a week instead of two. I think this will only help him. He is doing so much better verbally since starting, really repeating and imitating sounds. So we’ll see what happens with that.

8. Sleep. In theory, anyway. I should go test that theory.

…still pregnant.

This is how I feel:

This morning John looked at me and said, “You know, I don’t think you can look any more pregnant.”

Well, time will tell.

This baby is definitely more normal sized, which Wesley wasn’t. I’m in constant amazement of how HUGE the uterus can grow, and how I can feel foreign objects inside me–like knees, elbows, and feet–nudging me (HARD!) in places where normally internal organs belong. To feel a foot poking out my side is pretty surreal. And it makes me think I’ll appreciate the movement more when it’s outside my body, where I can just look and not be obligated to feel.

Yesterday was my birthday (I’m officially in the “almost 30” club) and I spent most of it cleaning the house and shopping for baby things. But thanks to my sister I got some terrific cupcakes.

Let the nesting begin! The baby is taking over Wesley’s old room. I didn’t want her room to look like Wesley’s, but I didn’t want to spend a lot of time or money on making it different. In the end she gets pink hangers instead of his white and green ones…

…and some floral curtains that layer on top of his sage green ones…

…and, you know, girl stuff.

Unlike last time around, when Wes surprised us three weeks early before we’d had time to even find out where the hospital was located, this time we’ve already visited the (different from last time) hospital, figured out where to park and which entrance to use, and pre-registered. We’ve also packed our hospital bag and Wesley’s overnight bag for when I’m in labor. I picked out some baby clothes to take to the hospital, including a going home outfit for her.

I still feel bad about how when we brought Wes home from the hospital we were kind of unprepared and had to borrow a blanket from the nurses to protect Wes from the rain. So this time I’m ready with blanket, hat, socks, mittens, onesie, sleeper, and of course a dress with matching cardigan.

So now it’s the wake-up-every-day-and-wonder-“Is-this-THE-day?” routine for me. So far I’ve dreamed three times about having the baby. Amazingly in my dreams I either sleep through the labor and delivery part, or she just falls out, or I otherwise skip everything up until the part where she’s born and I’m holding her. Wouldn’t it be nice if it worked like that in real life?

A ship under sail and a big-bellied woman,
Are the handsomest two things that can be seen common.
~ Benjamin Franklin

So it’s probably about time I made mention of The Pregnancy.

I don’t have any pictures of me pregnant with Wes between weeks 26 and 36 (when he was born). So this is me today, at 29 1/2 weeks pregnant. This means I’m about three-quarters done.

I still teach aerobics three times per week. During the first four months of pregnancy I taught six to seven hours a week, and my body loved it (except I was tired a lot). Now that it’s only three times per week my stamina is actually worse, so I’m trying to attend additional classes to pick up the slack. Wouldn’t you think the body would appreciate a break from the exercise? But no, the body loves the stimulation, needs the endorphins.

One reason I cut back on classes was so I could sleep more (I was getting up early for 6 a.m. classes). But sleep still eludes me most nights. I remember this about being pregnant with Wesley; often I’d end up on the couch downstairs watching the super early morning news shows at 2, 3, and 4 a.m. Now I just try to lie in bed and go back to sleep, but sometimes it takes 2+ hours. It’s frustrating, now that it’s summer, to see the darkness brightening outside and to hear birds singing good morning when it’s scarcely 5 a.m. and I’ve been awake for two hours and desperately want to go back to sleep.

I’m pretty sure I’m picking up more weight with this pregnancy. That’s due either to A) the fact that I eat whatever I want even when it’s not really a good idea, or B) this baby is bigger than Wesley was. It’s probably a combination of the two. Wes was only 3 lbs 15 oz at birth (born at 36 weeks 5 days), and according to What to Expect When You’re Expecting, my current baby (29 weeks) is supposed to be almost 3 lbs already.

I think by this point in my pregnancy with Wes I was seriously into nesting. About a month before he was born I recall visiting Babies R Us three or four days in a row during my lunch break. I was so particular about making sure we had everything we needed to take care of him once he came. And that it all matched, or at least color-coordinated.

This time around, the only thing I’ve done so far that even vaguely resembles nesting is eying up the baby girl clothes at Wal-Mart on my way to the dairy section. I think I’ll like having frilly dresses in the baby’s wardrobe, and I admit that the other day I lusted after some sage green Mary Jane baby booties. The actual nesting will have to wait until we’re done with the basement. Then I can set up the baby’s room, move Wes to his Big Boy room with a Big Boy toddler bed, and pull out Wesley’s old baby clothes and get all nostalgic as I hang them in the new baby’s closet.

This time we’ll see if the baby comes early like Wes did, or decides to go full term. Wes came when he was ready to come, and I guess this one will too. Hopefully we’ll be ready.

Yesterday I went to a special Mother’s Day brunch for moms in my county who have kids with Down syndrome. They served us a catered breakfast, which was nice, but the best part was that I didn’t have to bring Wesley. Sometimes it’s nice to enjoy a couple hours hassle-free, not needing to expend the energy required to keep a handle on a busy two-year-old.

I sat with other moms and we chatted about our kids. Our topics of conversation are different than moms would have in other circles. We get updates about the kids’ medical challenges, compare experiences with therapists, and, for younger moms like me, pick up tips about things to perhaps anticipate in the future. One thing that kept coming up was the kids’ propensity to run away. I had heard about DS kids getting out of the house without the parents’ knowledge before, but I didn’t realize it was so common. Every single mom I spoke with whose DS kid was big enough to open the front door has dealt with their kid running away. One mom found her nine-year-old at their neighbor’s empty house, playing. She had let herself in through the backyard. Another mom opened her door to find a policeman with her four-year-old son. I’m not sure she even realized he was gone, but a neighbor a few streets over had called in to report the boy riding his tricycle down the middle of the road. The boy wouldn’t get in the car with the officer, so the policeman followed him home in the car while he pedaled his trike. And the stories went on.

We talked about speech development. It’s interesting to hear how the older kids are doing with speech when my own kid is still so young. I’m curious sometimes how Wes will turn out. I sat with another mom whose son is only two weeks older than Wesley, and we both agreed that our kids seem really smart and able to absorb information (mostly). It’s the communicating back part that’s tricky. John and I have been listening to Wes “talk” and we hear sounds that he says over and over, which apparently mean something to him, but we have a hard time knowing what he’s saying. He will even say phrases, but you have to listen carefully because his sounds are squished together and not clear. Like, he says “idahit” for “I got it” when he retrieves a ball. It took us a while to realize that this was purposeful speech.

We had a guest speaker who specializes in behavioral problems with kids. His point was mainly to take care of yourself as a mom–especially as a mom with a special needs kid. I’m sure he wasn’t trying to be morbid, but he cited several instances of moms who tried to do everything for their needy kids and ended up going a little nuts and harming themselves and/or their families out of frustration and depression.

I think I’m maybe guilty of not trying to do enough for Wes, rather than the other way around. It’s fortunate that he progresses all right even with my minimal pushing. But I know what the speaker means about that feeling of trying to do everything. The MOST exhausting part of my job as mom is Wesley’s therapy stuff. I know these sessions are meant for him but they completely wear me out, every time. Each therapy visit means a concentrated hour watching and working with Wes and assessing how he’s doing and making goals for the next visit. It might not be so emotionally exhausting except that he’s my son and I want him to do well. The therapists give me a list of things to work on with Wes for next time. It’s a heavy burden sometimes to consider that the progress and well-being of your child largely depends on how much effort YOU put into him. And when the therapists come back and review our goals and Wes isn’t there yet, well, it’s a little disheartening to realize it’s partially because I didn’t work with him enough. It’s the same with the weekly playgroup I take him to with other developmentally delayed kids. It can be exhausting, both emotionally and physically.

On the other hand these sessions can be rewarding when Wesley finally gets something new. Often it’s at these sessions that we discover for the first time that Wesley CAN do something that I didn’t realize he could do. Those times are exhilarating.

Back to the brunch–it was nice to sit someplace comfortable, eat good food, and be told by someone else that what we’re doing as moms is special. I don’t often feel special because of my momness.

The other night Wes woke up about an hour after he went to bed, crying inconsolably. He was obviously tired and nothing seemed wrong, but he was very upset. I took him into my bedroom and let him watch an “I Love Lucy” episode on my lap until he fell asleep again. When I carried him back to bed I looked down at his face with his eyes closed and his mouth puckered together, and I recognized this expression as how he’s always looked when he’s asleep, even from the time he was a tiny baby. It made me think how he’s the same kid I gave birth to at just under 4 pounds, the same kid who wore preemie-size clothes and diapers for the first two months of his life, the same kid I would carry around everywhere in one arm and hold him in front of a mirror so I could see him better while marveling that we had a baby–the same kid, but now he’s older and bigger.

We’re having another baby this year and we’ll get to do the baby thing all over again. I forget what it’s like to have a baby. It’s easiest to remember the here and now. I wonder if in another year I’m going to have forgotten how Wesley yells “doh!” (“go!”) at himself and then runs like crazy across the room. Or how I’m forever finding pretzel remnants in the carpet and his car seat. Or how our table and chairs and the lower parts of our windows and fridge are constantly dirty with smudges of food and hand prints. Or how the other day John and I were walking with Wes between us down Main Street and Wesley was trotting when his pants suddenly fell down. Or how Wes claps at the cats to try to get their attention like we do sometimes. Or the hugs Wes gives me after I’ve disciplined him by making him sit in the Bad Boy Chair for a few minutes.

…and speaking of which, I had to pause to pull Wes away from the dirty kitty litter, which he was tossing around the floor of the laundry room and giggling at. I washed his hands and put him in the Bad Boy Chair while I swept up the mess, and then we had a brief talk, and then he gave me a hug. And now he’s playing. And I can already feel the exhaustion creeping up, and it’s only 9:30 in the morning on Mother’s Day.

Today, so far, has gone like this.

1. Woke up at 8 a.m. (Hurray! My 6 a.m. aerobics class was canceled for spring break.)

2. Took Wes to a different aerobics class where kids are welcome. He lasted fifteen minutes and went downhill from there. Left a half-hour early with tears of frustration.

3. At home he played happily with toys while I went upstairs to change. Came down to find my fresh flowers dumped all over the table and carpet with petals and naked stems everywhere.

4. Put Wes in the “Bad Boy Chair” and then asked him to help me clean up. He refused: “No! No! No!”

5. Put Wes back in the “Bad Boy Chair” until he was willing to come help clean up. Much pouty lips from him.

6. Made him toast for lunch. He dropped his plate on the floor and it broke in four pieces.

7. Ate cookies for lunch whilst thinking, “Isn’t this exactly what I’m NOT supposed to be doing as a mom???”

Four hours down, nine to go.