Funeral Home Frenzy

Another one for the book of "Funny Things Tucker Says": Driving to preschool today, Tucker started chanting excitedly, "We're going to pass the funeral home!" He was right; we were moments from passing it, it sits on the same road as his school. It's a place he's asked me about several times, and I've never understood the fascination. It looks pretty much like a house, set back from the road across a wide front lawn. It's one of several similar, unassuming houses along the road, but something has made it stand out for him.

It's probably weird for a 3 year old to even know what a funeral home is, right? But I was at a loss as to how to answer his question, "Mommy, what is that place?" a few months back. So, as you do, I did the best I could to be truthful and age-appropriate and probably ended up making no sense at all.

Everything with Tucker was - and still is - seismic. His very entering into our lives, and every new thing he does and says, is a change for us and we are awed, surprised, and completely overtaken by it. But Carter has not had this effect. With Carter, everything is just ... easier. We've seen it, learned from it, know what to expect, and handle everything with more ease, if we even consider it something to be handled at all. Often I have to remind myself that I HAVE AN INFANT. Remind myself that THIS IS A BIG DEAL. That infants are THINGS TO DEAL WITH. Carter flys under the radar a lot. I don't worry so much about him as I tend to with Tucker. I feel guilty that I don't worry enough? Is this an indication of Carter's future personality? Will he always be flying under the radar? Granted, he doesn't talk or move around much yet, so I'm certainly overstating his likelihood for future sluggishness. And Tucker is in the time of life where he is just SO THERE. He is LOUD. He is VOCAL.

He has in the last few days discovered the interesting distraction of clucking his tounge. I've tried to ignore it, though I fret that it could easily become one of those annoying habits people develop that they don't even realize they are doing. Then today he told me that his teachers have told him he can't do that at school. That he has to do that only at home. I asked him why they told him this, and he didn't know. But I immediately started to worry that he's already become one of those annoying people. It's begun - he is his own person out there in the wide world of morning preschool and I am not there to excuse or explain away his behaviors. He has to account for them - or not - on his own. The first little bit of me learning to let go.

I think at some point I started buying clothes that were cute, yet comfy enough to wear in my current profession of work-at-home mom. Meaning, I wouldn't cringe at the idea of throwing them on rather than staying in my pjs all day. Yet they would be presentable enough for say, a trip to Kroger or the playground.

I hope that's what I've done.

Like the yoga pants I was already wearing this morning. I decided they would look just fine, paired with a simple long-sleeved t-shirt from our last beach trip and my $45-a-pair flip-flops, to pick up Tucker from preschool today. Casual, but cute and sporty, right? I even put on makeup. Hair in a loose ponytail? Is that okay? Do all those other moms in their matchy-matchy tennis and exercise outfits really work out while their kids are in school?? (Whose hair looks that good when they work out? Seriously. I'm asking.)

Carter was asleep while I was doing my toilette, or I could have gotten his grinning, gummy opinion on my outfit. There really isn't anyone else to ask. I ended up relying on my increasingly dated - and already lacking, even in my pre-mommy years - sense of style to confirm the appropriateness of my ensemble. I hope I looked okay today, other moms. Otherwise, my sense of what's "presentable" has gone farther down the toilet than I want to admit.

The Mama Body

How does my body know to wake up moments before Carter begins to fuss for his middle-of-the-night feeding? It doesn't happen every night; often I hear the "nyah, nyah, nyah"s in my dreams and am halfway down the hall before I become conscious. But just as often I wake, fully, and hear nothing. Check the clock. Decide to visit the bathroom - quietly and without flushing so as not to wake the children. Pause by the door and listen into the monitor ... do I hear him? Will he stir? He might as well since I'm already up ... Nothing. Pad back to bed. Sip water. Must have just had to pee. Ahhhhhhh ... settle comfortably back into the pillow. And that is when the "nyah, nyah, nyah"s begin.

Maybe it's not my body that knows my baby will momentarily need me. At least not my regular, non-nursing, all-mine-and-no-one-else's body. It's this mommy body that appears when I am pregnant and stays and lactates for me while I am nursing. My hum-drum, conservative, straightforward body becomes a liberal, crunchy, earth mother body that knows and responds to things far beyond the reaches of mere brain power. It's not something that's easy to discuss or compare notes on with your spouse (because he's doubtless asleep through the whole thing, not one to need 3AM potty breaks or to hear the "nyah nyah"s before they become wails). And it's less taxing for a tired mom to shrug off this so-called phenomenon as a sleepy delusion that's forgotten well before morning, probably by the time you trudge carefully back down the hall to pray for a quick return to deep sleep before the alarm goes off.

But I know that it's true. That I'm woken by a deep down pull that must be residual tugging from the umbilical cord. We are still attached, this nursing baby and me. And I miss that attachment with Tucker. Though his cord still tugs me more often than I realize. When I hear him calling for me in the night while I'm tending to Carter, and I know he hasn't heard me moving around - he's still sleeping. But his baby body knows Mama is just there and wakes him moments before he needs me.

Parenting Milestones

I know it happened awhile ago, but as is everything surrounding life with kids, it was one of those two-steps-forward-one-step-back type of things. It's not as if we've been on the edge of our seats in the evenings, waiting and wondering when we'd hear the summons and what we'd do when we did. But for some reason, this week it's really hit me that we have TWO children in our house, and they are both going to sleep, for the night, at a fairly predictable hour. And we aren't likely to hear from them until another, far distant, and also predictable hour! This very fact, this certainty and confidence in our children's nighttime sleep pattern is such a revelation! By 8PM - earlier if we're on top of our game - Brooks and I are guaranteed at least two, uninterrupted hours of time to ourselves! (Assuming, of course, that we don't fall asleep on the sofa first.) I think this must be one of the great milestones in families with multiple children; that moment or day when you realize you have succeeded in getting ALL OF YOUR KIDS TO SLEEP AT THE SAME TIME. Wow. It's awesome. I feel as if someone should present us with an award of some kind.

I'm realizing that all of the legendary milestones of parenthood focus solely on the child: first smile, first tooth, first step. And those are great, of course. But what about the real parenting milestones?

Crooked Smiles and Giggle Fits

With all the big boy things Tucker can do, I had forgotten how exciting those tiny little baby milestones can be. Now that T has started back to school, Carter and I have more one-on-one time together at home where I can focus on his unique babyhood.

Yesterday, Carter and I were playing a simple game of blowing raspberries at each other and we both got so tickled that we had a full-fledged giggle fest between us. We couldn't stop laughing at how silly the other was. It was a hoot!

The other precious thing I love about Carter is his unique crooked little smile.

Brooks always scoffs at me when I remark upon differences in Carter and Tucker at this age, but it truly amazes me when my kids reveal the intricacies of their burgeoning personalities. It's hard to believe that we created these whole little people who are wholly themselves. Comparing the two of them is just one way I try to wrap my head around the whole idea of their very being!

I am so blessed to be a part of their growing into this world.

On starting a blog

In 10 years, my boys will think this blog is completely archaic, yet it is a completely new medium for me! Since I'm still shunning iPods, iPhones, and the like, I figure it's time I jump into the 21st century utilizing the technology I already have (though some would say this beast of a desktop PC isn't exactly "technology"). At any rate, publishing photos and tales of the precious Baggett Boys is reason enough to blog away!