Week of May 1st, 2002
Owen has figured out how to stand in his crib. Perhaps this shouldn't have surprised me, he stands constantly, but I was still taken aback in the morning to find him holding onto the rails like a prisoner. He's been calling to us at 4 and 5 a.m., wailing to be set free.
He's also discovered that the closet in his room will lead him to the kitchen. He had a good time zooming around the apartment in a circle.
He's fixated now on water, anywhere he can get it. He drinks from his sippy cup all the time, and loves to drink from our cups too (well, first he sips and then he tries to stick his hand into it). He also loves cat water dish and the toilet. We realized this belatedly, when caught him splashing in the water, taking things from the trash and putting them in the toilet, poking at the toilet paper. We now keep the toilet closed (and got a clamp), bought a heavy duty little trash can with a lid, and we've moved the toilet paper to a less convenient location. Now he stands by the toilet, whacking it with frustration. It's the same disappointed face he makes when we pull the little shreds of paper out of his hands, before he can stuff them in his mouth. Or shortly after he's stuffed them in his mouth.
He's intently observing everything. At the Campus Center this week, he was a bit overwhelmed by the crowds. But as he gaped, you could see his eyes taking in as much as he could process. He's our little sponge and I anxiously wonder just what it is that he's taking in. How do parents manage this process?
When we pick him up from his daycare lately, he's totally occupied with various toys. Recently he was playing with a little garage, and rolling something with wheels on the garage's roof. He was standing, using one hand to roll the car and the other to keep his balance. Standing, he looked so much older than the baby I'm used to -- I was touched and horrified simultaneously. I know in a short time, he'll be a genuine toddler, but I'm still having trouble watching the time pass so quickly. One nice thing about being childfree was that there were no physical markers with which to measure the passage of time. Okay, we look older but you can shrug that off unless you're looking at old pictures. But with a child, there is no escape. Suddenly each week, month and year has a skeletal structure from which I cannot hide.
The first few months went so slowly, as Scott and I struggled into our new roles as parents. Caring for Owen became our consuming task, and we were a bit overwhelmed with all that we had to learn. Not just about caring for a child, but learning how to let go of our old lives, our old habits, our old selves - Owen, out of necessity, pushed so many things completely out of our lives. It was hard.
And then, sometime between the 4th and 6th months, it eased up a bit. We were getting better at what we were doing, we started to see glimpses of our selves. We had time to sort the mail, and at least consider vacuuming. Owen became easier -- he started to sit up on his own with proficiency by Christmas (his 1/2 birthday). This allowed us to have our hands free some of the time. And we tried the infamous Crying It Out in mid-January. That awful 3 or 4 weeks, eventually gave us room to function by giving our fogged-brains some overdue sleep. (6 months of never getting more than 2 hours of sleep at a time had taken it's toll. I was better off than Scott since I can fall asleep easily, but Scott's sleep was completely destroyed. He'd wake up each time Owen or I woke, and in between, he'd lay there unable to return to sleep.) Crying It Out was horrible, but we felt compelled to try it. And for the first time, Owen was able to sleep for longer chunks. Life for all of us improved. Once we felt a little better, the weeks started to fall away. Zoom, zoom, zoom. And now he's 10 months old. Amazing.
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