the fascinating fours

Our son will turn 5 on Feb. 1, less than a month away now.

It’s incredibly bittersweet. I miss the baby days (although I definitely view them through the perfect Instagram filters I used to document them, and have most assuredly forgotten about the sleep depravation, the monotonous pumping and the what seemed to be never-ending teething…although it did end as it turns out).

But I have loved every stage – newborn, waddler, toddler and now preschooler. Soon to be kindergartner! We hope for a typical kindergarten experience for him, but currently we are in the middle of a pandemic, with the faintest of ends in sight, as the vaccine slowly trickles its way through our country. My husband and I will be among the last to receive it, rightly so. We can both work from home, and have no health risks (that we know of).

Despite our lack of risks, we have chosen to self-quarantine during the pandemic, and we continue to do so. And we’ve chosen to keep our son home with us during this time, even though his child care center/preschool has done an amazing job with cleaning and other precautions. We don’t have family who would be able to care for our son if either of us would get sick, so we’re being extra careful.

All this to say, we’ve been with our son 24/7 during most of his fourth year, and while it’s exhausting being around this little ball of energy, it’s also been really fun. When you’re a new parent, you always hear about the “terrible twos” (not true), and the “threenager” (kind of true), you don’t hear much about year four.

Here’s what the fours are like:

  • Negotiations – some parenting experts recommend presenting your preschooler with options – but ours will often create his own options or present a whole new deal.
  • Games – lots of invented-on-the-spot competitions and also mundane everyday tasks get gamified, like brushing teeth and walking up stairs.
  • Creativity – our son doesn’t have that negative voice in his head yet, telling him ideas are dumb or that they’ve been done before. All and any thoughts he has comes out with the kind of confidence I wish I could bottle and sell.
  • Prowess – he has more control of his body and is more graceful, and he’s more adept at things like kicking balls, and he calls upon his experience more.
  • Intelligence – his vocabulary has expanded exponentially, and he thinks through things – and he’s so clever now. He understands puns and jokes, and has memorized so many characters and plot points of his favorite shows it makes my head spin.
  • Defiance – he’s growing more independent and has learned to placate us with affirmative responses, only to do the opposite of what we asked.
  • Curiosity – our son has so much personality – he loves people, which has made our sheltering in place harder. But we’ve found ways to stimulate his mind and help him learn about the world.
  • Affection – he’s still so snuggly and continues to be an empath (something he was born with, I think).

I’ve loved year four, and I know we’ll look back on these times and be really thankful we stayed healthy and got to spend so much time with him. It hasn’t been perfect – he misses his friends tremendously and I know his teachers would have been able to better educate him on traditional things like letters (he knows his numbers but not the entire alphabet by sight yet). But, our bond with him is stronger than ever, and I can’t wait to see what year 5 has in store for him!

so many ideas

So little time.

I almost started a blog in 2007. I think it’s still hanging out there on blogger, empty with possibility.

It was July 7, 2007, in fact. The dog we got when I was 16 had just died.

I saw a rainbow that day, when she died. And I thought with the 7/7/07, that it was a sign I needed to write more, to exercise that muscle that I was only using at work.

It’s been my dream to write a book for a really long time. But I’ve found all sorts of excuses not to do it. The most recent one is that my husband and I have a busy, energetic, all consuming (in the best way) son, and it’s just us. The only help we have is when we pay for a babysitter, and with the pandemic, that hasn’t been an option, either.

It’s not very fair to blame the procrastination of writing on my son, though. The book has been on the back burner for a long time.

The thing is, I have so many ideas. I’m wondering if this is part of my problem, that I have all these ideas swirling and it leads to this overwhelming feeling.

So now I have a blog to deposit these ideas, and to stretch my writing muscle in different ways.

also, poetry

I have one tattoo, so far. It is the words “poet breathe now” on the inside of my upper left arm. It has a lot of meaning to me, each word, the poem that inspired it, and the placement of it.

Right now, it serves as inspiration to write more poetry.

I love poetry because of its looseness. The way it can be silly or serious, short or long, rhythmic or prose, or all of the above, all at once.

We are all poets.

Here’s one by me to start:

Truth
My truth
is contrary
to someone else’s lie.
Who do you believe.
We protect abusers
and shame victims.

The truth
is uncomfortable
to hear.
Who do you trust.
You permit anger
and silence crying.

Our truth
is difficult
to parse.
Who are we, really.
I honor myself,
and move on.

why blog

Why not just journal. Keep a diary. Buy a blank book and fill it up.

I kept a journal when I was pregnant. I wrote it in nearly every night before we fell asleep. My husband would read; I would write. I felt like it was such a momentous time that I needed to document it, and I hoped I would keep it up once our son was born.

Spoiler alert: I didn’t.

Newborns are all-consuming…and so are infants. And waddlers (that’s my child care’s cute description of one-year-olds). Same with toddlers and preschoolers. At least that’s how I’ve chosen to spend my time away from work, volunteering, cleaning, cooking, reading, and social media (probably too much time spent in that last category).

Also, there’s something more accountable about making your thoughts public. I think it will make me a better writer.

And, I hope my son will read these someday. There’s something creepy about reading someone’s private journal. (Sweet boy, if you are reading this, you can pore over my pregnancy journal.)

I hope to write about my childhood, my adult life, my loves, and my writing. It’s good therapy for me, and I hope for you.

you’re perfect, never change

In high school, I remember it was a thing to write “never change” in someone’s yearbook. It was high on the list of ultimate compliments to give someone.

The obvious problem with never changing is that the world changes around us, like it or not. Like, do high schoolers even write in yearbooks anymore?

And yet, a lot of people don’t change much after high school. Or after elementary school for that matter. Can people really change who they are at a fundamental level?

Will I always be guilt-ridden?
Will I always be bad with money?
Will I always be just a tad lazy?

And…

Will I always have creative ideas?
Will I always love food and cooking?
Will I always be a good writer?

That double-edged sword again. You gotta take the good with the bad, it is indeed one of the facts of life.

I for one hope I can always keep improving, especially on the things I’m already good at. Like being a better mom and partner. Being a better co-worker. Being a better person.

This is a part of my journey to better: opening up more, sharing my truth, and telling my story.