I love Johnathan more and more everyday. And when I think I can’t possibly love him more, I stand corrected. The first month of motherhood was really hard for me… and especially that first week… the first night home from the hospital SUCKED. But I’ve always loved Johnathan more than anything in the world. I love watching all of his changes, and all along the way I thought each one was special. I love the newborn stage, I’d think, he is so quiet and precious. I love the three month stage, I’d think, he is interactive now. I love six months, I once thought, He is so funny, this one has to be the best. And I did the same at nine months, and one year.. and now he is in the middle of his second year, rapidly approaching the “terrific twos” with all his elaborate fits, and I love the world he is showing me. I see it through different eyes… maybe not necessarily his exactly, but I see it differently and I love it. I am fascinated with each discovery he makes, and each new word he speaks and… I could go on and on and on …and feel that I am not adequately expressing myself. I’ll try to give the abridged version.

Johnathan got sick this week, and the first sign is that he is extra whiny and testy, and the screaming and stomping feet come more often than usual. And then the snot comes, and so on. I told someone, “he is doing fine though, a lot better than his parents, WE are the babies when we are sick.” …And I proved myself right this morning when Ben and I woke with sore throats and snot and cough and fatigue… and those other strange symptoms that I can’t quite put my thumb on… yet not knowing what it is, doesn’t stop me from complaining about it. “I just feel crappy.”

And because Johnathan is a toddler, and NATURALLY testing his boundaries, he has used the opportunity of parental illness to see if those boundaries change in this condition. He, obviously, is feeling much better at this point, if he can climb every piece of furniture in the house and run semi-circles around the coffee table half a dozen times to keep me from taking my phone away from him. If anything I think I may have been a little more strict on him in efforts to keep him from thinking that he can get away with anything when Mom has dark eyes and a nasally voice, sucking on cough drops.

He tested me in the bath as well… and I’ll be honest… I was SO glad when bath time rolled around, signalling that bedtime was around the corner. I start his bath first, by water scrubbing his skin (no soap for eczema boy but once a week) and then I make a point to splash and play with him for a little bit. After that, it is MOMMY TIME, the only time I get to sit down with a book. Nap time is reserved for cleaning, and after Djai is in bed, Ben and I read with each other. I am often encouraged to do MORE for myself, than tub-side reading with one eye on my little fishy. I don’t take any classes, I don’t see friends often, I don’t work (but for cleaning other people’s houses,) I DON”T EVEN PEE ALONE in efforts to encourage potty training. But it was hard enough for me to set aside what little time for myself I have defined, and it still gives me great pleasure… so it’s good for now. And I’ll be, if I give that precious personal time up. Tonight Johnathan wasn’t satisfied with his alone time in the tub, and chanted, “Bowl? Bowl? Bowl?” To let me know he wanted me to make my hands into a bowl, and splash him with the water that he poured into them, with his cup. “No, Johnathan,” I said firmly, “this is Mommy’s reading time.” “Bowl? Bowl? Bowl?” Followed by “the lip,” and then the tears. *sigh* I want to give in. Badly. But I realized at this point tonight, more that ever, that my personal boundaries are important to me… and though it is my job to nurture my family, there is a distinction between nurturing and doing everything my children and husband want me to do at the drop of a hat. He is only 19 months old, and obviously is not disrespecting me, but if I set the pattern for that kind of behavior, it will continue into his teenage years and so on… and I want to be respected as my own person… not just wife and mother. But man, when he wants to play with me THAT badly my guilt gives in. “Okay Johnathan, three more bowls, and then I’m going to read my book,” I said satisfied, with my compromise. After three splashes followed by giggles, I return to my book. …”Bowl?” “Oh no Johnathan. It’s mommy time.”

THEN, he takes a big cup of water and pours it on the bathroom floor. “Okay! We’re done now! Water needs to stay in the bath!” I say, swiftly pulling him from the tub to his towel to dry. By this time, I am feel I am sounding like a broken record. All day long it seems, “food needs to stay on the tray!” “books go back on the shelf!” and, “juice needs to stay in the kitchen!” Over and over and over, reserving time-outs only for when he blatantly disobeys me right after I tell him not to do something, as I personally don’t like time-outs either. When we get into his room he picks out his book, “Somebodies Dog.” Somebodies Dog turns out to be incredibly boring and he chucks the book before I can even get through the first page. “That’s fine, pick another book Djai.” He grabs one of many from the Bernstein Bears books. He sits down on my lap, and as I turn the cover page he pops back up to sift through the books again. After a moment I suggest, “How about Horton Hears a Who?” He resumes mommy lap top reading position, and again, I don’t make it past the first page before he is on his feet for another. “Oh no,” I sigh, I picked him up and walked toward the switch, knowing full well what would follow the dimming of the lights. “I’m sorry Johnathan,” I breathed, before his first cry of protest could even fill his lungs. “We aren’t going to read the first sentence of every book in your collection. Do you want to sing with me?” Tonight, he didn’t participate in the Gayatri Mantra as he sometimes does, but he did rest his head on my shoulder as I started in and walked him to the crib. …and started back with the crying when I left the room, pleading, “Juice? Juice? Juice?” For the next half hour before he gave up and fell asleep. I think I am doing the right thing. Kids need boundaries… and so do mommies.

This entry was posted Monday, January 16th, 2006 at 8:41 pm and is filed under General, Johnathan. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.