babby thalia crawls, is cutting some more teeth, and is getting big opinions about things. like: when i leave the room. that is a bad thing.
or like yesterday, when i left her with jim while she was napping and went to meet someone for tea for an hour. when thalia woke up, she shoved jim away every time he tried to pick her up and she preferred to crawl around the apartment, crying, looking for me. he let her wander by herself for a bit then went ot get her and once she had established that i wasnt there and i wasnt coming when she called, he was allowed to hold her. she calmed down a bit. when i got home she greeted me with a huge smile and a clingy-hug and then SCREAMED. like shrieking, high pitched, im fucking pissed off i hate you so much screaming. I got that treatment for a while, and once she worked out all her anger she was all cuddles again. the message was clear: do not leave me. she then spent the rest of the day grumpy at me, and told me so every time i tried to do something that wasnt hold her. like, you know, pee. ever tried to pee while a baby tries to climb your leg while yelling? i am pro at this activity. and when it happens, i kinda take a mental step back and think “how did i get here? since when in peeing while a small person claws my leg and tells me she feels totally abandoned and betrayed because i put her down on the floor next to me my life?’
i always have a tangled mess of ideas about what i should be getting accomplished. just regular, ‘make ordinary life tick on by’ stuff. clean out the cat liter, wash the laundry, pick the guinea pigs the garden weeds, organize something for dinner…. and nope nope nope. thalias plan for the day is for me to hold her. one of the best things i did around here was to paint the fridge with chalkboard paint and keep a bucket of chalk on top. now i just scrawl all the half-baked ideas in my head down directly on the freezer door. book meeting with client, schedule meeting with sondra/tynan, remember to buy new bed sheets. on the side of the fridge is the grocery list.
today i had an alarmingly long nap. got thalia down to sleep around 10:00, and somehow ended up joining her, despite my list written on the freezer door. I woke up and it was 1:00. we don’t sleep so well at night, i suspect its the teeth? i don’t really know. and i’m not concerned about finding out why either. currently she just doesn’t sleep so awesome at night. that is all. it will change, she will sleep better soon. maybe in a week or maybe in two days. babies just do this, and i don’t care to find out WHY, because it wont make a difference anyway. just know that it will change, and then she’ll sleep fine but it’ll be something else thats difficult next.
what is hard at first, but by the third you get used to it and it doenst seem like such a big deal, is that adults wake up with firm ideas about what they need to do or want to do during the day. perhaps i wanted to clean the cat litter, wash two loads of laundry, put in 20 minutes of knitting onto a current project. but once you let go of these plans, it gets a whole lot easier. now i sit down and think ‘i would like to watch that documentary about british scientists from 150 years ago, and i will see if i can’ and 15 minutes in thalia has grown tired of playing with plastic eggs and a rubber giraffe and is begging me to pick her up. don’t fight them off! don’t think “eurgh, this baby is getting in my way, i want to watch this show and eat this sandwich and shes interrupting me” just say “well, its not working. move on.” and pick up the baby and kiss her. like, whatever. its not important. drop the attachment to your own plans and just embrace the babys plans and it makes the whole thing so much easier to sail through.
your last baby is precious. shes only been here for a year, almost. a few more months and i wont have a baby any more i will have a toddler. i will never have a baby this young again. my first baby just turned six years old. my first baby speaks french and reads french and has complex ideas and does things like take up a clipboard and go around her classroom interviewing her classmates about if they like cookies or brownies better then reports back to us that we are to send brownies in to school for her birthday treat because she had a vote, without her teachers even realizing she was doing it. my first baby, who we talked about aborting when we found out that a squishy blob of cells had accidentally taken up residence inside me, just turned six.