Parenting

Today's highlights...

I haven't had any coffee yet today, not to mention a shower. Ari finally is down for his nap, 2 hours late (postnote: which lasted 40 minutes). The dishwasher is still full from last night's wash. Today's dishes are piled by the sink. Our cooking utensils are strewn on the floor and tucked into various corners throughout the kitchen...Ari's hiding spots. A box of colored pencils has exploded, compliments of Ari, all over the office and the contents of the trash can have been "categorized" on the floor next to the desk. The house smells like a deep fryer from last night's Hannakuh latkes and every window is open. I have a Cheerio stuck to my sock, black handprints on my sweatshirt...and something sticky in my hair. I think it's applesauce.

It's 3:14 p.m.

I'm not sure where things went wrong today. Perhaps it was the lack of early a.m. caffeine or perhaps it was the doughnut (oh scurge of the breakfast world) I ate at the Saturn dealership instead of breakfast. Maybe it was due to stopping at the beach on the way home to see the record winter waves...which threw off our schedule and let Ari get a 20 minute snooze in before his official naptime.

Or maybe it's just Wednesday.

Tired momma that I am, I was going to crash myself after the bugger went down. But I decided to brew a pot (for which I will certainly be up until 2 am) and get some words out instead. Sometimes, when you're drained beyond words...words are what you need to regain your energy. Some of you out there will get that. High five to the writers in the crowd.

Which brings me back to my chosen subject today. Parenting. I am such a novice. Sascha and I are finding that we must actually parent now. It's a verb, parenting. Discipline. Leading by example. Being firm. Trying not to actually yell "stop" at the top of your lungs (at which I failed today). For the first year, our primary job was to keep him alive and try to avoid an attachment disorder that could possibly land him in prison one day. Now, it's pro-active stuff. And he knows how to communicate "no" and use his legs to run away. Exhausting.

Sometimes my breath is knocked out of me when I consider the enormity of the commitment we've made here. I mean, this is forever. This is life. This is another human being with a personality and preferences all his own, dependent upon me 24/7 to care for him and lead the way and make sure he eats his vegetables (which he doesn't). I mentioned this "breath-knocked-out-of-me" phenomena to a dear friend the other day. She has two kids and knows all too well what I'm talking about. She replied to my wonder with, "Yeah, I try not to think about it."

Good choice.

I don't know. Frequently I feel that I'm in over my head (to our dear parents: this is not a call for help, I'm not losing it, it's just random musing). And I know almost every other new parent feels the same way. For example, today I learned that we have a biter on our hands. Lately, if I don't pick up the cat bowls first thing in the morning, Ari's sees fit to quickly and surrepticiously eat any leftover kibble. So, when I see this happen, I go swooping in with the old Mommy Index Finger to rid his baby mouth of said kibble. He HATES this. Gets so mad. Today, he bit back. Just clamped right down on my finger, hard. Then, after I pried my finger out of his mouth, he clamped down on my hand. I still have the mark from that one. What the...? From whom did he learn this??

So. How does one handle this? After an incredibly firm-yellish "no bite" from me, he walked about 4 feet away and hung onto the scratching post (notice a cat theme here) while I stared long and hard at him. Silently. We sat like that for about a minute. Me staring with displeasure. Him whimpering, stepping back and forth over the scratching post and glancing at me every once in a while. Then he started walking towards me...then apparently thought better of it and circled back around to his standoff position. After a moment, he plastered a huge grin on his face and walked over to me with his arms out in hug position. Like Jesus, welcoming a wayward lamb to his fold. I don't know if he was asking for forgiveness or giving it. Still not sure.

So this has been our day. Oy. And I didn't even mention the epic tantrums he's been perfecting. Although I hear from friends that that's pretty normal as well. Ah. One year old. And I thought it was "The Terrible Twos".

I guess that's about it for now. Sascha's home. And I'm taking a Moment for Sanity's Sake to finish my coffee and this blog before we head out for dinner. Yes, I've boycotted cooking tonight. Mom needs a burger and a beer. Let's just see Ari throw Red Robin's macaroni and cheese on the floor for a change. Luckily, he's cute.

Sticky-haired mom, out.