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Nov. 19th, 2005 12:27 amEverything feels so intense tonight. It makes me tired.
Jake is not only smiling - now he's grinning, and cooing, and practically having a conversation with me. There are half a dozen times a day when I'm bent over the changing table or laying in bed with him or looking at his little face in the crook of my arm, and it's just mind-boggling how beautiful he is. And, there have been HOURS AND HOURS for the past two evenings when he just fusses and cries and screams no matter what I do. It seems like gas pains (?). I can keep him happy for a couple of minutes by changing his diaper, or turning on music, or nursing him, or sticking him in the UBW. Then, he's at it again. He falls asleep once an hour for 5-20 minutes and wakes up upset again. I pace and pat and bounce and rock and pace and pat and start over with the diaper, music, nursing, UBW, and consciously force myself to feel peaceful while a part of my mind thinks that something must be wrong with him and a part of me freaks out and feels like I just don't know what to do. I'm torn between overwhelming frantic maternal upset that he's that unhappy and something could be hurting him (i.e., gas pains) and the all too human impatience, of please, please, please just be QUIET and stop yelling in my ear and let me sit down...all while Isaac finds something to get into, hits his head on something else, etc, and I wonder how to get dinner cooked. I find myself chopping two slivers of peppers everytime I bop my way into the kitchen and reading a board book everytime I sit in the rocking chair for a minute with him, and so forth. Yet...everytime he DOES fall asleep for those couple of minutes, I feel his hair against my cheek, and put my arms around his warmth, and just burst at the seems with love and wonder.
Ananda is so bitchy sometimes that I can't take it. Whether it's her WHAT?! when I call her, one hand on hip, or her meanness to Aaron throughout the day, or her attitude when I want her to do something simple, it's hard to take. And then she gets so melodramatic that I wish I had it on tape for you guys, taking deep fake-shaking breaths and saying "It's just...like...NOT FAIR...that I can't have a treat right now...". But she also cleaned up all the clutter in the entire living room, just to make me proud. I spent the last half hour she was awake reading her E.E. Cummings and telling her stories about when me and Aunt Laura were little together, and when I was a teenager at camp, and feeling her there. Feeling her curled up in my lap like when she was inside my body, talking to her knowing on some level that it didn't matter how much she understood right then, the way I used to when she was a newborn and I would read her the Bible and Wordsworth. Just watching her fall asleep in my lap, holding onto her outfit that she was eager to get up and put on for Girl Scouts in the morning.
Isaac is covered in bruises, lumps and cuts. He leaps from the couch, the chairs, anything he can find, anytime he can. He runs full throttle laughing his head off. He gets skates from the kids' closet and tries to use them, he balances atop the riding horse toy to get things off the counters. He pours giant cereal tupperwares of quick oats all over the kitchen floor, and shreds all the paper off all of the crayons while I mop the kitchen. He grins, chuckles and steps backwards in anticipation of a great chase when I say "Let's change your diaper". And then he tucks his head into my chest and wraps his arms around me, before a nap, and snuggles in under his blanket with a yawn and a "nigh nigh". He reaches for me with his lips puckered up huge, making "MMMMM" sounds, and then exclaims "MOI MOI!" with great enthusiasm, after I kiss him once. He looks at me with those bright, big BLUE eyes under all that orange hair, from his carseat, and smiles, and is so vibrant that I almost can't stand it.
And Aaron hears not a word I say. I call his name over and over to no avail; I have to go and get that one directly everytime. I have to stand there and police him, item by item, for him to pick up anything he's gotten out. I have to drag him, to get him to come inside the house, and force him, to put on his seatbelt, and every night he doesn't want to eat what's for dinner. He stands on the edge of the hallway carpet as I mop the forbidden wet tile and endlessly tries "ideas" for getting across to the living room out on me - he can walk on two toy cars, and his feet won't touch. He can hold his pillow to his chest, stand at the back of the hallway, and run turbo speed, and then dive when he hits the floor and slide on the pillow. He says each thing as if he is having a grand epiphane, and then sinks to the floor making exaggerated whines of anguish when I tell him to please, just wait a minute, I don't want him to have a wet pillow and I don't want car marks on the floor either. Aaron curls up in a ball on the floor to tell me OW, ow - the smell of a poopy diaper is hurting him, get it away. He recalls the speck of nutritious food he snacked on "so be actually I can have ice cream, right?" - having only thought of ice cream because the part of his brain that pays attention somehow heard me tell Annie that we didn't have any. And, oh, how he hugs. I don't have any other child who will drop anything, anytime, to RUN at you anytime you extend your arms, or who will stay there in them, grinning with every cell, because you're holding them...for just as long as you want to go on squeezing.
Grant is running, busy, all day everyday. Working as hard as he can work because he has barely worked this fall because of labors, NICU, hurricanes, etc. So many backed up deadlines; we're three months behind on our van payment and the tag is expired as of November 1 :x And I have to call him to interrupt because we're out of groceries..can he take time and money and get us more - again? Can he work here for awhile so I can take the van to let the kids play at the park? Can he please just try to make it home for dinner even though he's almost finished with something important and he's so tired and he has so much more to do? We lay together everynight and it's like I could PURR, it feels so good to just lay my head on his chest and feel his arms around me. He runs all day and once he's home it's "wouldyoudumpthediapersinthewashertakeoutthetrashholdhimforaminutepleasejustrealquickIneed...." until he drops, asleep, and I miss him, knowing that when I wake up he'll be gone again, and feeling so grateful for him, and missing him. Having to remind him about every checkup I have to make it to and thing I promised Aaron we'd go to and conflicting appointments he's already made and guilt because he hasn't even seen Jake smile.
And I'm here just crying. Not because it's bad, or because it's good. Just because it's a lot. A whole lot. And I'm tired.
Jake is not only smiling - now he's grinning, and cooing, and practically having a conversation with me. There are half a dozen times a day when I'm bent over the changing table or laying in bed with him or looking at his little face in the crook of my arm, and it's just mind-boggling how beautiful he is. And, there have been HOURS AND HOURS for the past two evenings when he just fusses and cries and screams no matter what I do. It seems like gas pains (?). I can keep him happy for a couple of minutes by changing his diaper, or turning on music, or nursing him, or sticking him in the UBW. Then, he's at it again. He falls asleep once an hour for 5-20 minutes and wakes up upset again. I pace and pat and bounce and rock and pace and pat and start over with the diaper, music, nursing, UBW, and consciously force myself to feel peaceful while a part of my mind thinks that something must be wrong with him and a part of me freaks out and feels like I just don't know what to do. I'm torn between overwhelming frantic maternal upset that he's that unhappy and something could be hurting him (i.e., gas pains) and the all too human impatience, of please, please, please just be QUIET and stop yelling in my ear and let me sit down...all while Isaac finds something to get into, hits his head on something else, etc, and I wonder how to get dinner cooked. I find myself chopping two slivers of peppers everytime I bop my way into the kitchen and reading a board book everytime I sit in the rocking chair for a minute with him, and so forth. Yet...everytime he DOES fall asleep for those couple of minutes, I feel his hair against my cheek, and put my arms around his warmth, and just burst at the seems with love and wonder.
Ananda is so bitchy sometimes that I can't take it. Whether it's her WHAT?! when I call her, one hand on hip, or her meanness to Aaron throughout the day, or her attitude when I want her to do something simple, it's hard to take. And then she gets so melodramatic that I wish I had it on tape for you guys, taking deep fake-shaking breaths and saying "It's just...like...NOT FAIR...that I can't have a treat right now...". But she also cleaned up all the clutter in the entire living room, just to make me proud. I spent the last half hour she was awake reading her E.E. Cummings and telling her stories about when me and Aunt Laura were little together, and when I was a teenager at camp, and feeling her there. Feeling her curled up in my lap like when she was inside my body, talking to her knowing on some level that it didn't matter how much she understood right then, the way I used to when she was a newborn and I would read her the Bible and Wordsworth. Just watching her fall asleep in my lap, holding onto her outfit that she was eager to get up and put on for Girl Scouts in the morning.
Isaac is covered in bruises, lumps and cuts. He leaps from the couch, the chairs, anything he can find, anytime he can. He runs full throttle laughing his head off. He gets skates from the kids' closet and tries to use them, he balances atop the riding horse toy to get things off the counters. He pours giant cereal tupperwares of quick oats all over the kitchen floor, and shreds all the paper off all of the crayons while I mop the kitchen. He grins, chuckles and steps backwards in anticipation of a great chase when I say "Let's change your diaper". And then he tucks his head into my chest and wraps his arms around me, before a nap, and snuggles in under his blanket with a yawn and a "nigh nigh". He reaches for me with his lips puckered up huge, making "MMMMM" sounds, and then exclaims "MOI MOI!" with great enthusiasm, after I kiss him once. He looks at me with those bright, big BLUE eyes under all that orange hair, from his carseat, and smiles, and is so vibrant that I almost can't stand it.
And Aaron hears not a word I say. I call his name over and over to no avail; I have to go and get that one directly everytime. I have to stand there and police him, item by item, for him to pick up anything he's gotten out. I have to drag him, to get him to come inside the house, and force him, to put on his seatbelt, and every night he doesn't want to eat what's for dinner. He stands on the edge of the hallway carpet as I mop the forbidden wet tile and endlessly tries "ideas" for getting across to the living room out on me - he can walk on two toy cars, and his feet won't touch. He can hold his pillow to his chest, stand at the back of the hallway, and run turbo speed, and then dive when he hits the floor and slide on the pillow. He says each thing as if he is having a grand epiphane, and then sinks to the floor making exaggerated whines of anguish when I tell him to please, just wait a minute, I don't want him to have a wet pillow and I don't want car marks on the floor either. Aaron curls up in a ball on the floor to tell me OW, ow - the smell of a poopy diaper is hurting him, get it away. He recalls the speck of nutritious food he snacked on "so be actually I can have ice cream, right?" - having only thought of ice cream because the part of his brain that pays attention somehow heard me tell Annie that we didn't have any. And, oh, how he hugs. I don't have any other child who will drop anything, anytime, to RUN at you anytime you extend your arms, or who will stay there in them, grinning with every cell, because you're holding them...for just as long as you want to go on squeezing.
Grant is running, busy, all day everyday. Working as hard as he can work because he has barely worked this fall because of labors, NICU, hurricanes, etc. So many backed up deadlines; we're three months behind on our van payment and the tag is expired as of November 1 :x And I have to call him to interrupt because we're out of groceries..can he take time and money and get us more - again? Can he work here for awhile so I can take the van to let the kids play at the park? Can he please just try to make it home for dinner even though he's almost finished with something important and he's so tired and he has so much more to do? We lay together everynight and it's like I could PURR, it feels so good to just lay my head on his chest and feel his arms around me. He runs all day and once he's home it's "wouldyoudumpthediapersinthewashertakeoutthetrashholdhimforaminutepleasejustrealquickIneed...." until he drops, asleep, and I miss him, knowing that when I wake up he'll be gone again, and feeling so grateful for him, and missing him. Having to remind him about every checkup I have to make it to and thing I promised Aaron we'd go to and conflicting appointments he's already made and guilt because he hasn't even seen Jake smile.
And I'm here just crying. Not because it's bad, or because it's good. Just because it's a lot. A whole lot. And I'm tired.
