Snippets

Me: Luke, are you feeling sick?

Luke, lying on a pile of cushions on the floor: No. I'm feeling like a polar bear. I'm conserving my energy for the seal hunt. 

Me: Do not lick your brother. 

Weston: My tongue stayed in my mouth, so it wasn't licking. 

Luke: Aaaggghhh, he drooled on me! Disgusting!

Weston: It wasn't me. It was a disgusting ghost. 

Me: Please put your pajamas in the hamper. 

West: I did. 

Luke: He did not. They're right there on the floor. I see them. 

West: Well, I don't see them. 

Me: West. Pajamas. Hamper. 

West: I did, but they flew out and came back to the floor. 

Luke: Hey, Mama, can you go upstairs and bring me some stuffed animals?

Me: No. But you can. 

Luke: Ugh. I need a robot who can go upstairs. Hey, Weston, wanna play robots? 

West: Yeah!

Luke: Great. You be the one that goes upstairs and brings down animals and I'll be the one that plays with the animals. 

Keeping Things Interesting

In the entirety of their lives, my children have been on antibiotics a total of four times--and that's for both of them combined. Three of those times? Have been within the past month.

Back when Luke was a wee toddler, he had antibiotics for an ear infection while we were traveling abroad, which led to weird skin things until we realized that hey! This kid is allergic to this kind of antibiotic! And from that time to this, we have not had cause for any more antibiotics until last month, when all manner of crazy infections descended upon our house. As a result, we have been to the pediatrician's office on a weekly basis and they now know us by name, age, and relationship. (Relationship doesn't seem like a big deal until you realize that most of the time, I have 1-2 children who are mine and 1-2 children who are not and that enough of those children physically resemble each other in enough ways that people assume they must all be related.)

So when we went to the doctor for an Illness Had By Luke back in November, they prescribed an antibiotic that was not within the family of antibiotics that causes him allergic reactions and all seemed fine. So when we went again about 2 weeks ago, they prescribed the same thing again because--he had JUST had it! And was fine! So no worries, right?

Wrong, as it happens. Because two days ago, he suddenly turned red in patches and the next morning, woke up with hives all over him. So off we went to the doctor. Again. Heaven forbid we miss a week. And there, while talking to the doctor, the following pieces of conversation were had:

Me: Yeah, the kids have had a couple of skin infections this winter.
Dr: Oh, like MRSA?
Me: Like...MRSA?! Ummmm....no?

(At the time of this appointment, I thought MRSA was THE DREAD DISEASE. I have since come to realize that no, it isn't. And actually, it's rather common. I had no idea.)

Dr: And you'll have to get him allergy tested because he's now considered to be allergic to two of the most common families of antibiotics, which leaves us with very few treatment options for him in the future.
Me: Ok.
Dr: There's definitely a good test for penicillin. I'm not so sure about the cephalosporins, though. The best option for that might just be to give him some while you're at the allergy clinic. But don't worry--they have the equipment there to bring him back from a major allergic reaction, should he have one.

I'm sorry. "Bring him back?" They have the equipment to BRING HIM BACK? Cuz I kinda thought that the whole goal of parenting was to avoid situations which required BRINGING HIM BACK.

Every time I think I've got this parenting thing figured out, they throw me another curveball.

A Little Quiz

When a person is merging onto a busy interstate, it is a good time to:
(a) scream loudly that you're starving to death and need food immediately.
(b) initiate a conversation about sales tax with the driver.
(c) sit quietly and allow the driver to concentrate on her task.

When a person is fast asleep in her bed, the proper response is to:
(a) climb into the bed with her, poking her with your elbows, knees, and various other bony parts.
(b) stand an inch away from her face and breathe on her until she wakes up halfway panicked that an ax murderer has entered the house and is about to kill her.
(c) leave her ALONE so she can continue to sleep because she is not a happy camper when woken during the still-dark hours.

When playing with the dog, an appropriate game would be:
(a) licking her ears.
(b) pretending to be a dinosaur and chasing her around the house.
(c) throwing a ball.

When playing with the cats, an appropriate game would be:
(a) licking their ears.
(b) cats? Who can be bothered to play with a cat?!
(c) No, really, cats are not playful creatures.

Appropriate activities at bedtime include:
(a) sneaking out of the bedroom, jumping on the bed, hiding in weird places.
(b) staying awake forever, kicking the wall, throwing stuffed animals at the fan in an attempt to get them to perch on its blades.
(c) sleeping.

Answer guide:
The answers according to Weston are (a), the answers according to Luke are (b), and the answers according to a rational human being (ahem--me) are (c).

The Dreamer and The Realist

This morning in the car, Luke and Weston did a fantastic job of expressing their current personalities.

Luke: When I'm sixteen, I'm going to buy a car. I'm going to save enough money for two cars and then I'll just buy one car so I'll have lots of extra money. And then, I'll earn even more money and save it.
Weston: When I'm a grownup, I'm going to buy two race cars. I will drive one and you can drive one, Mama. It will be so much fun! I'm excited!!
Luke: Race cars?! You'll need about $30,000 for a race car.
Weston: $30,000? Wow!
Luke: Yes, and if you want two, you'll need $60,000. That's a lot, Weston.
Weston: Yeah! I will find those coins on the ground and save them in my piggy bank.
Luke: I will not buy a race car because that's too much money for me. I will buy a car that is $10,000. That means I need to save $20,000.
Weston: And I will buy a police bus and a helicopter and two snakes. Three snakes. Twenty, fifteen snakes. And a snake house for them to live there. Aaaaaand a submarine ninja. Robot submarine ninja. Hey! Where is my robot sweater, anyway?!

Differences

I've noticed some stark differences in my parenting between Kid 1 and Kid 2.

Sleep
The first time, I read the books, I scheduled activities around his naps, I tried all manner of things to get him to sleep "like he's supposed to." The second time? He slept. I slept. Sometimes, we slept at the same time. Those times were magical. The books were used to prop the door open so the cats wouldn't scratch on a closed door right as we were drifting off. At some point, he slept through the night and moved out of our room and started falling asleep on our own. I don't remember exactly when those points were. I take no credit for any of it.

Food
First time: I steamed, pureed, and worried over his first foods. I made sure all his meals were perfectly balanced.  Second time: who needs to steam or puree when you can just hand your kid a piece of food from your plate?! He figured it out. He eats all of the things. Again, no credit here.

Preschool:
With Luke, I had a preschool spreadsheet. It listed different programs in the area, their reviews, their distance from home, the cost, and what was special about their program. Weston got none of that. He goes where Luke went. He loves it way more than Luke ever did. He kisses everyone. Guess it was a good choice.

Teacher conferences:
With Luke, McMoose and I would consult the night before, come up with questions and concerns, and I'd clear my schedule so I could go to them. Weston has them coming up tomorrow and I'm grumpily looking at my calendar, thinking, "Seriously? Why am I leaving another commitment early and driving all the way across town for this? He's Weston. He's awesome. I already know that! Can't the teacher just email me her notes or something?" (I'm still going. Mostly out of second-time parent guilt.)

School
When Luke was about two, I started researching our various options for Elementary school. Pros, cons, distance, special things about the school, whatever. Like with preschool, Weston will probably do whatever Luke is doing at the time, at least at first. Like with preschool, he will probably love it and kiss all of the people. That might be slightly more problematic as he gets older.

Poor Weston. And also, lucky Weston.

Be The Change

There's a grocery store a few blocks away from our house and I love being able to walk there to pick up whatever random thing we just have to have RIGHT THEN. So last week, we were walking there to pick up some ingredients for dinner and Luke noticed that there was some trash on the grass beside the sidewalk, and being the child who must pick up all specks of trash and carry them to a trash bin, he started collecting things--with his bare hands. At this point, I died of the grossness and then came back to life and told him to cut it out.

Me: Ew, Luke, don't touch that!
Luke: It's trash. It should go in a trash can.
Me: It's also gross and should not be touched. But yes, someone should clean it up.
Luke: WE should clean it up. WE are someone. And if we leave it here, it'll be blown by the wind to the ocean and then a sea turtle will think it's a jellyfish and eat it and die. ALL THE SEA TURTLES COULD DIE. They're already endangered and that means that THEY CAN ALL DIE AND TURN EXTINCT!!!
Me: I understand that you're concerned about the sea turtles--
Luke: And the dolphins. And the whales. And the jellyfish. And the puffins.
Me: Yes, fine. But we still are not touching this with our bare hands. We can come back this weekend with gloves and you can clean up then.
Luke: What if there's a windy day between now and this weekend and it blows all of this to the ocean? EVERY DAY, ANIMALS ARE DYING!
Me: *Sigh.*

After calming down a highly irritated child, we continued on our way home, but I did take him back to that stretch of road yesterday, where he picked up every tiny speck of trash that he could find. He went under bushes. He went up hills. This kid was thorough. And as he picked up trash, he grumbled about how people should put their trash into trash cans and didn't they know how much animals depend on us to keep their habitats clean? And then, the grumbling turned to talk of deforestation and did I have any idea how many rain forest trees are being cut down EACH AND EVERY DAY? After a while, he began telling me all about how shade grown coffee is good for the world and the coffee I drink every morning had better be grown in the shade. But then, THEN, his talk turned to how we can help. Pick up trash. Talk to people we see who are littering and tell them about ocean animals. Buy trashcans for people who don't have them.

It was an inconvenient way to spend a cold and windy afternoon. It was also the most important thing we could have done with that cold and windy afternoon. It's easy to say that in a world filled with litter, what good did picking up one bag of trash from one roadside do? That one trash bag represents, what, 0.0000001% of the trash strewn across the planet? Maybe less? But that one trash bag also represents 100% of a small child's efforts and ideas and passion. Six months from now, he might no longer care about picking up trash or saving the ocean animals but my hope for him is that he'll always care about something and be willing to put his efforts toward whatever that thing might be. Shine on, kid.

Digressions

• Every morning, Weston feeds Elsa--his one and only chore, initiated because he wanted a way to earn money--and then solemnly asks me, "How many cents do I have now?" Every day, the number goes up by ten cents and he never fails to comment, "Wow, that's a lot! What can I buy with that?"
• This morning, I made the mistake of being inspired by facebook. Go with me on this for a moment. A friend of mine had posted pictures of her adorable child playing with some homemade "cloud dough," and I thought, "Oh, yeah! I used to make that for Luke! I should totally make some for Weston." And then, an hour or so later, I remembered that the reason I stopped making it for Luke is that cloud dough (and other similar, homemade play-doughs) is apparently irresistible to the four-legged members of our family. Yellow Cat stepped in the bin I used to contain the dough and then tracked it all over the house. When I moved it outside to get it away from the cats, Elsa ate a fair amount of it and as a result, she now has flour all over her face. The 20 minutes of playtime was so not worth all the trouble. (Though if you asked Weston, he'd say that the playtime certainly was worth the trouble!)
• I find myself eying the brown leaves covering my back yard with a sigh. Didn't summer just begin? And yet, here we are, thinking about raking and putting covers on our outside faucets already. Come on!
• Many people I know are happily anticipating the time change this weekend. I am not. Yes, fine, the sun will be up earlier in the morning. But people. It will be dark by 5:30 in the evening. Who enjoys that?!
• The geese have been flying very quickly today. I wonder what this means. Usually, they migrate at a normal goose pace, but today, they have been flying faster than geese really should. This morning, a flock of them passed quickly over us and Weston and I both looked up, expecting to see a low-flying airplane or something because of how quickly their shadow moved across the lawn.