Basically, I'm a Liar

I swore I would not be one of those mothers who babied her youngest child. This was a swear that I made AFTER becoming a parent, so it counts way more than all those swears I had before becoming a parent. All those things I said before I became a parent, about no TV and all organic food and never raising my voice, they don't count at all. I know that.

But the no babying rule was made when my children looked like this:

Notice how there are only two of them? 

That's practically not being a parent yet. I mean, I think this picture shows a 2 year old and a 9 month old. I was swamped with baby-ness. Of course I looked forward to not having a baby around. 

But now the child who wasn't even a twinkle in his father's eye when that photo was taken is FOUR. 

My baby. 

I have tried to hold Hugmonkey to the same standards as his siblings. I made him learn to put on his own shoes and to get himself dressed, despite his aversion to both ideas. He's probably had more chores than they had at his age, actually. 

But he still can't buckle his seatbelt - and usually Lovebug is the one helping him with it. 

And he still doesn't clean up very well - and usually Ironflower is the one helping him with it. 

Sometimes he has to remind me not to feed him. 

Most damning of all, my go-to nickname for him is "Baby." He did go through a phase where he would yell back, "I'm not a baby!" but that's passed. It's like he's accepted his fate. 

And I've finally accepted that I shouldn't swear to anything when it comes to parenthood. 

PS: Happy birthday to my fantastic mom! Thank you for everything, all the time. 

Baby Cravings

I didn't think it would happen to me.

I had 3 kids in 4 years. All told, I spent over 3 years nursing. I have owned and used a triple stroller and several double strollers. I had at least one kid in diapers for 6 years straight. I still don't know what it's like not to carry snacks in my purse.

But.

I haven't held a baby for more than a few minutes in ages.

That's Lovebug. 

That's Ironflower.

That's HugMonkey. I hardly have any pictures of the poor kid by himself.

I'm craving a baby. Even as I celebrate Hugmonkey heading to daily preschool, the joy of life without diapers and the fact that I don't even have to bring a sippy cup with me everywhere, I am a little sad. There are no babies in this house and there won't be ever again.*  I really thought that 6 years of baby and toddlerhood straight would cure me of the baby cravings. I thought I'd had enough. Apparently I was wrong. 

Last week, Ironflower and Lovebug asked for a little sister. It killed me. It was so sweet and adorable and impossible I actually teared up. In a perfect world, they would have a little sister. You know, if money and multiple c-sections weren't a factor in our lives. And if I thought I could deal with having a toddler again. 

You see, I love babies. I've had baby cravings for most of my life. I love preschoolers. I love elementary school kids. I can even enjoy teenagers. But toddlers? Toddlers are tough. And the thing is, even if I could still get pregnant and afford to have Zara (because that would have to be her name), she wouldn't stay a baby. At some point she would turn into a toddler. And I would become a lousy mother, because I'm pretty sure that Lovebug and Hugmonkey used up all my toddler parenting patience. Toddlers are awesome in many ways, but there are no easy days with them. Hell, there are no easy hours with them. At least not the toddlers I have. 

Clearly I need to get my baby fix another way. Any ideas? 

*I'm 41 and my tubes are tied and we are way too broke to adopt. That ship has sailed so far away that you can't even see it anymore. Unless someone goes all Baby Boom on me and leaves me one. Which would be really, really, weird. 

The Reading Bitch

Last night I watched the commercial for "Teach Your Baby To Read!", a product that teaches babies and toddlers to memorize the shapes on flashcards read. The urge I had to smack all those parents upside the head, well, it reminded me of my urges when I watch the kiddie pageant spectacle, Toddlers and Tiaras.

It's the same damn thing.

Poise, the ability to walk in high heels, reading. . .those are all great skills to have. Reading's obviously more important, but still. In our looks-obsessed society, the ability to wear lip gloss without it going all over your teeth can't be denied. But why the rush?

Four year olds don't need to look polished to do well at preschool.

And babies don't need to be able to read. And, in fact, they aren't actually reading. Sure, I saw them say the words on the cards, or gesture to indicate that they knew what the word was. But that's not actually reading. They didn't decode (aka "sound out") the word and they sure as hell didn't comprehend its meaning from the surrounding text.

I've taught lots of kids to read and I guarantee that none of them would have read for real any more quickly had they memorized the words for body parts as babies. If their parents had talked to them more, read them more stories and/or not let them spend all night watching horror movies, that might have helped. But this stupid program? Not so much.

A colleague once referred to me as "The Reading Bitch", that's how into teaching reading I was. I might have been a little militant. I might have distributed timelines and scopes and sequences and lesson plans to my elementary school teacher colleagues a little obsessively.

And yet my baby has no idea what letters even are. But I have gotten him to sit still long enough to finish listening to "Touch and Feel Farm". I'm kinda proud of that. Because it's age-appropriate.

I suppose in a world where first graders have cell phones and grandmothers attend Botox parties, age-appropriate isn't a very popular concept. Sure, everyone clucks over the pageant kids, made up and hairsprayed like teenage prom queens, but they still have their own shows. And I've yet to hear anyone talk about, much less criticize, "Teach Your Baby To Read".

The truth is, kids who memorize easily (or very early), often have a hard time reading more difficult text when they hit second or third grade. And forget about developing their thinking skills. Memorization does jack for those. But all those parents can now brag that their one year olds can read, which I guess is more imporant than age-appropriate or thinking.

Score another one for the assholes.

Now With Even More Weirdness

The preschool is closed this week.

I've actually been enjoying not having to get up and force the children to look presentable and drag them all the way to school. But for some reason sitting around the house watching me blog is not that entertaining for them. So today we went to an indoor play area with some kids from Ironflower's class.

Apparently we were not the only people to have this idea. And as I stood and watched them (yeah, it was so crowded that all the parent chairs were actually being used - the gall) duck under some obnoxious boys blocking their way, I truly thought I would be posting about the traumas of being around other people's children. But the obnoxious boys left, and things were fine.

They were so fine that I was actually able to converse with the other moms. One of whom was surprised to find out that I will not be having a fourth child, because I'm "so calm".

Clearly, she doesn't read my blog. And yes, I'm pretty sure she was serious.

I had my tubes tied when I had ChunkyMonkey, so it would be an act of God for me to have a fourth child. (Note to self: start going to church or temple or something.) There's no way we could handle another child financially or spatially (Spatially doesn't sound right. Possibly I am using it incorrectly. But you know what I mean, right?). Or mentally.

But.

Is it weird that it makes me a little sad?