Keeping up with a wild blonde rumpus

Ever since I moved back to Portland and started the toddler parenting class, I've been taking careful note of Kaeden's behaviors and what's he is learning. He comes home from daycare everyday with something new, something a little different.

A new found fascination with water fountains. I'm not allowed to walk by one anymore.

 As much as daycare is a huge relief and a large weight off my shoulders, I miss being with him all day, watching him play and learn and dance. I know his daycare is one of the best in the city, and I know his teachers Mary and Sandy and the assistants love him and cuddle him when he's sad and make him giggle and sometimes when I pick him up he's got stray splotches of paint hiding in his neck folds and chubby hands. I sneak in earlier some days to spy on him, and I can see he's happy looking at books, eating snack, and charging around outside. 

He did not want to leave the Hello Kitty pack behind. 

I know he's nicknamed Linus by the teachers, because in his first few weeks back at daycare he wouldn't go anywhere without one of his blankets (which are now looking a little threadbare with the thrice-weekly washing's). I know he has a friend, a slightly older girl with whom he shares random hugs, the most adorable kisses in the history of cute kisses, and generally copies her. I love how at the end of every day, Kaeden catches a glimpse of me and comes galloping up to meet me, yelling "Mamamamama!!!!" As soon as I hug him, he's off again to give all the nearby adults (including teachers, assistants and other parents) his goodbye, thanks for the great day high-five, before grabbing his blanket and commanding me to pick him up again.

 I can't help but laugh when every time he gives a kiss, he sticks his lower lip out as far as it can go, tilts his head back, then waits for you to come closer. His new favorite game is pointing to every vehicle we see, declaring it either a "Car!" or "Truck!" or "Bus!" The train is also a favorite.  Lately the wild rumpus has turned into the wild parrot, repeating what I say when I ask him to. An excerpt from Sunday night: 

Me: "Kaeden, say 'I'".

Kaeden: "I!"

Me: "Say, 'want'".

Kaeden: "WANT!"

Me: "Say Cookie!"

Kaeden: "Want Cookie please! Cookie!"

Me: "Close enough."

So far, he can reliably ask for a lot of things following "I want", including cookie, water, bottle, blankie, and up.  He's starting to enter the "terrible twos" because as often as he can politely ask for something, he can also demand, get told no, and throw a huge, the world is ending tantrum, or just a small, you are a terrible Mommy Lady fit. For the most part he's fine (and I have become the ninja master of the redirect, even during our commute to and from daycare) but his newest problem is bedtime. No matter how set his routine of bath time, brush teeth, wiggle into PJ's, crawl over mom tickle time, bedtime story and lights out and bedtime song time is, he will disagree with the necessity of going to sleep no matter how tired he is. Sometimes I can persuade him to quiet down in less than five minutes, and I can go to work or curl up downstairs without guilt. Other nights his disagreement lasts quite a bit longer and louder, and I have to keep glancing at Christine, hoping she won't reconsider our roommate status or think I'm a terrible cruel mother. 

For the most part, he is well settled in to life back in Portland. His teachers have noticed a huge difference in his behavior and his confidence in the past two weeks.The first few weeks after we returned, it took him awhile to settle down after I left, he dragged a blanket everywhere, and all he really wanted to do was cuddle.  Every day I spend a few moments checking in with his teachers, and lately they've told me he's able to go without his blanket most of the day, except nap time of course, and how much happier he seems to be at daycare and more willing to explore. 

I miss him when he's in daycare, and I'm already planning and trying to determine which career will him to work with me a bit more. Even with our life splintered,  I feel less guilt now than I did when I was trying to make a go of it in Eagle Point alone. When I'm with Kaeden now, I'm well rested and  less stressed and I can focus on him instead of the million things I still have to take care of-including sorting myself out for the custody dispute I'm caught in. 

I've been afraid to write about it, or really talk about it, for fear that I'll end up saying something and it will come back to bite me. Even now, there's so much I can't say, so much I have to be careful of. I have a ton to work through, coming to grips with what happened, what this means for our future, and the new path I'm suddenly forced on. Most days I just concentrate on doing the best job I can at work, at keeping in touch with my friends, and enjoying Kaeden and making sure he's healthy and happy and wild. Most days I avoid overtly being the bitter one, the scorned woman. Most days, this is enough, but other days end up, "I need an emergency infusion of puppy breath and chocolate, STAT." Thankfully I have enough friends and family, and now personal control, to combat the latter type of days. I go back through the videos taken of Kaeden, but I still flinch and sometimes cry when I see or hear Tristan. I'm caught between wanting to throw breakable things or write a teary letter when I hear mention of Tristan's name or have to deal with him in any way.

Right now I'm caught in the struggle between what I emotionally want, what I think is best for Kaeden, and the utterly, ruthlessly practical letter of the law. I'm trying to set aside the petty, bitter, scorned bitchy side of myself, and focus only on the cold logic of what the law requires. I feel stuck in a holding pattern and hemmed in, unable to move in any direction or share what I really feel publicly. I hate when I explain I'm a single mother, or I say I'm separated from the person who was supposed to be my partner. 

But then I go and kiss my finally asleep wild rumpus, and I spend a few moments just watching him breath and whispering "I love you, you are beautiful and smart and wonderful" in his ear. Loving him and being his mother is what I need right now, what I'm good at, who I'm striving to be better for. 

My Wild Blonde Rumpus.