Finally....quiet

The only sounds I hear right now are the washing machine cleaning yet another load of endless dirty clothes, the dryer preparing another load for me to fold and put away, my fingers on the keys....but blissful silence from upstairs. For the past half hour, I heard nothing but "NEMO!" at top voice, an entreaty and battle cry in one. See, I recently made a Goodwill trip and picked up a few new books for Kade and there's one book full of sea creatures that he has decided is his favorite, mostly because one page has a picture of you guessed it, a clown fish.

 I had prepped the napping room with meticulous care today; a bottle of water and some animal crackers on his shelf, his two current favorite books, Nemo and a train book, on his pillow, both of his stuffed dogs, his three current favorite blankets, and a video of trains playing softly in the background. I assured myself that with our morning walk and housework that he'd worn himself out enough for his nap, right at the same time daycare starts it. 

Instead, I was treated to a half hour or so of protest, and no amount of soothing, bribing, sternness, or laying with him convinced him it was nap time. We haven't had this particular fight for so long that I was reduced to my last card: waiting him out. This is torture to me now, since my parenting class gave me so many other tools to use to make things like this flow with a certain smoothness, and I feel like I've missed something when all I can do is fold laundry downstairs while he screams defiance upstairs, locked from a tumble down the stairs by the baby gate.

On the other hand, I understand Kade's point. It's a beautiful day outside, full of birds and squirrels and things to climb and balls to kick, who wants to bother with taking a nap? But now that he has finally fallen asleep in an exhausted heap right next to the gate (didn't even make it to the bed, and I'm not waking him up by trying to move him to the bed, at least it's carpet up there), I can move on to the original purpose of this post: It's been two years plus a month (plus nine months on top of that) that Kade has been my daily reality. The rest of this post I managed to write while at work, between calls of clueless parents wondering what their kids are up to and other people affected by system wide issues that I have little control over and less control over fixing. 

In the blur between training for a new job, settling in at the office, dealing with bills and a messy house and a messy diet, the Wild Rumpus quietly turned two. Even though I'm so deep in the forest of daily life that I'm not even really aware of the mountain rearing above the treeline anymore, I had to take a step back and realize what that meant, Kaeden's recent birthday.

For two years, more if you consider the pregnancy months, Kaeden has been a presense in my life, some part of my brain always occupied by his care and giggles and love. It has at times been a struggle to accept that he is always the first priority in life now, my first consideration in all things.

It boggles my mind, two whole years of loving, tickling, blowing noses and washing laundry for the whirlwind of the Wild Rumpus. Two years of pictures, some breathtaking, some blurry, some snot covered. Two whole years of playing catch up, of learning who this little person is and watching him change every day from a screaming purple bundle of newborn displeasure to blonde haired, chubby cheeked train obbsessed little boy. Every day, Kade changes and grows and every day, I fall a little bit more in love with him. Most nights we cuddle and have tickle fests where I can end the day, no matter how long, challenging or rough, by hearing that high sweet toddler giggle...and also get kicked in the gut, boobs, and head as he thrashes to escape the "mommy tickles!"

Thanksgiving has come and gone for the year, but every day I realize how much help Kade and I have received, and I'm aware of where we could be without that help. I'm trying to write this in such a way so as not to sound like a Hollywood starlet accepting her first Oscar, thanking everyone on down to the hairstylist for her recent success.

The hands extended to us both are too numerous to count. My parents are always there without reservation when I really need someone to be able to watch Kade or pick him up when I'm running late, and their flexibility and love for Kade is the only thing that enabled to me to keep my new job with the schedule it demanded it of both of us. Their pride in how healthy and just so very smart Kade is shines from them, every time I visit my mom at work and she shows Kade off to her coworkers or in the patience Corey shows at watching yet another demolition derby youtube video, while Kade sits in her lap narrating. "Car crash! Fire, car fire! More car! Car go boom!"

It's been over two years now that my primary identifying characteristic has not been, "teamster" or "college student" or "crew member". Two years of fighting and finally achieving the ability for my first thought of the day, my first consideration to always be the little tow headed boy I'm half responsible for bringing into the world, for raising him up strong and polite and courageous.

No one tells you during those initial nine months when, like a Time Lord from Gallifrey, your body carries two heartbeats, how amazingly quick and yet gradual that take over is. When I was struggling with breastfeeding a screaming, purple faced 1 week old, my thoughts contained this wriggling bundle of joy, but also thoughts from life before, including when I was going to get my old body back, the body that did everything I ever asked from it without me having to really think about it. Now I rarely have a thought or consideration that doesn't in some way circle back to the Wild Rumpus.

What to cook for dinner? I have to cook a meal that will sneak in veggies so both Kade and I will eat them, and not be too high in sodium. What show to watch? Keeping on eye on how much TV we've watched this week, and I want to catch up on my shows but I don't want Kade watching those, so one of the few compromises is Top Gear.  When do I really need to do laundry? (Answer: probably before we both run out of clean clothes to wear, but before that point isn't really necessary...right?)

Work? I'm at work so Kade doesn't know want or cold or hunger because I couldn't pay the bills. I keep a picture at my desk, the only personable thing there, so between calls or when dealing with a difficult customer, I can glance over and see him smiling at me with a mouth full of the strong, white teeth that drove us both nuts when they were growing. I can't help but smile back at the picture, no matter how frustrating or just plain boring the day has been.

At the end of the day, I have a blonde haired kid to help me make dinner and a paycheck for the bills. I keep circling back to this thought, because it manages to keep me grounded and help deal with the frustration with waiting, waiting, paying bills, commuting, planning healthy meals, lack of riding time, and all the rest of the unpleasant adult crap I signed up for and am now managing, mostly, alone.

But I can hear now that the laundry needs to be switched, and it's time to get Kade up to go to a birthday party, where he will hopefully spend the afternoon getting sugared up and wrecking havoc with other little death defiers  and I will keep one eye glued on him while trying to make conversation with other mothers. At least it's turning out to be another gorgeous Northwest spring, which means temperatures nearing bearable and more time outside, in the sun, my old friend.